JennySugar
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Thoughts and Dreams
Welcome to my World! ^^
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Amazing Grace
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Grace Carson was just your ordinary everyday slightly introverted transgendered woman trying to make her way through life. She never expected to be tested, ran through the fires of hell, and face the very worst humanity has to offer. But, who does? This is her story.
Author’s Note: Everything in this story representing the more fundamentalist beliefs in our society is unfortunately very true. One only has to visit Westboro Baptist’s hate site, or Jack Chick’s deranged fundie cartoon world. Your author has attended Holiness church services and Southern Baptist in her formative years — so nothing Westboro or Chick says is new or shocking. There’s some explicit violence and bigotry contained herein — I firmly believe you cannot hide hatred and make it go away. You must expose, educate, and in some cases punish people to make it finally stop.
Please let me know in the comments if you liked it, hated it, or have some critiques! - Jenny Sugar
Chapter 1 Amazing Grace
“Of all tyrannies a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive.” — C.S. Lewis
It was a typical Monday morning for Grace as she gathered up all of the stuff that she needed to start her day. Her cell phone dropped into her purse — a lovely Coach purse, her favorite. She opened her cigarette case — checked to see how many were in it… then grabbed a spare pack and dropped it in. Keys, sunglasses, and then she made one glance around to make sure everything was turned off. She stopped near the front door and checked herself in the mirror. Brunette hair pulled back into a French twist, light makeup — earth-tones as always. Gold stud earrings, but nothing ostentatious for Grace Carson.
It was a beautiful day with not a cloud in the sky. Grace looked forward to the drive ahead and to her appointment with her therapist.
She locked the door and started for her tired old car when her phone began blasting Meredith Brook’s song “Bitch” from inside her purse. She always meant to change it to something more modern but she always stopped herself. She just really adored the song. She paused on the cracked sidewalk outside of her apartment and made the fateful decision to answer the call.
The caller must have blocked CID, as no number showed on the display, but Grace hit the button and answered,
“Hello?”
“Hello is this Grace Carson?” replied a soft female voice with a very slight southern drawl.
“Yes it is. Who is this?”
“I’d… rather not say my name. Someone gave me your name and number and asked me to call you.” There was a short pause. “Madeline Seaver?”
Grace recognized the name right away and replied “Yes, I know Madeline. Is something wrong?”
“Well, sort of… look, Grace… I can’t afford to get too involved here in this. I have to keep my name out of it and you can’t go telling anyone I even called you ok?” The woman sounded quite nervous, and slightly upset.
Grace replied while walking back to her door and unlocking it. “Look, Miss, just please tell me what you are calling about and what’s up with Maddy, would you?”
Grace sat down and quickly dipped into her purse for her cigarette case, and as the woman replied she lit up with a practiced ease. Grace was a heavy smoker and rarely talked on the phone or drove a car without one going.
“All right Grace. Your friend, Maddy? She... err, he… got into some trouble here. He asked me to call you and gave me the information. That’s all I can tell you really. He’s in a work camp here in Wonderland, Colorado.”
Grace paused in taking a drag when the woman switched pronouns, then took a quick one before responding, “You know Maddy is a transsexual I take it? And what is this work camp?”
The woman sounded slightly testy when she responded, “Look I don’t understand all this transsexual stuff and I really don’t want to but I don’t like what I saw and he asked me to call you. So, I called. It’s the county work camp ran by Reverend Hayes. It’s called “The Carpenter’s Light”. The Sheriff sends his inmates there and some parents send their kids there too. I hope you can help him. I really must go now. Goodbye.”
Grace heard the phone disconnect and looked again at the display of her battered old Motorola phone showing no caller ID.
Grace sighed and pulled out another cigarette and quickly lit it.
Should I go? Well, duh, of course I have to go! I can’t just ignore Maddy, we go back a long ways and she always helped me when I needed it most.
Sitting there, she smoked her cigarette and thought about Maddy.
Six years earlier…
It was Grace’s first visit to this particular bar, a bar she’d heard of on AOL chat as being “T-girl friendly” from her other transgendered friends online. She’d walked in, eyes stinging from the permanent smoky haze hanging in the air and finally chose an out-of-the-way table for two in a corner. Grace was a naturally shy and introverted person growing up, but her new feminine persona was slightly more outgoing.
The waitress was an exceptionally tall but passable girl who looked to be around 25 at most. She introduced herself as Violet and took Grace’s order — a Rum and Coke.
Once Grace had her drink she dug a pack of Marlboro Lights from her purse and lit one. She didn’t smoke all that often, perhaps ten cigarettes at most in a day — yet the atmosphere and the drinks when she went clubbing always seemed to force her conservative habit to greater heights. She didn’t really mind the heavy fog in the air if she was smoking as well. Nearly everyone in the bar had one going so it necessitated her own, she felt.
She looked around, finding many other girls like herself spread across the room. Some were dancing at the far end to the jukebox while some were at tables. Grace noted quite a mixture here — T-girls of all types, some passing well, some rather new at it as she was herself. She noticed a few drag queens, some gay men, and of course the “straight” men — usually married — cruising for some hot tranny sexual adventures. She was not here to “hook up” at all — she just liked being out and about and doing so in a place where she could be herself without worrying about being “clocked”.
Grace thought herself ninety-percent passable at best. She had a decent figure, hormone-enhanced ‘A’ cups that she hoped would grow, and fairly feminine facial features. The latter was a gift from her mother, who she resembled remarkably well.
Unfortunately any physical comparisons to her mother would only be made in Grace’s memories, as the poor woman had died of breast cancer just two years ago when Grace turned twenty-two.
She was about halfway through her drink, and was reaching for her cigarette pack when a woman spoke, almost in her ear. “Honey those short little cigarettes are maybe okay for the guys but for girls like us, longer and slimmer is always better!” This statement was followed by an extended pack of Virginia Slims Lights held in a hand with bright red perfectly manicured nails.
Grace half-turned and found she was looking at a smiling blonde with beautiful hair, bright blue eyes, perfect makeup, and an inviting smile. She was in a peasant blouse, denim skirt, ankle boots and a simple thin gold chain around her neck. Her look definitely worked for her. Grace noted her ‘D’ cup breasts right away, and felt a moment of jealousy.
“Hey there! I’m Maddy. Mind if I join you, hon? Or, were you expecting someone?” the woman said. Her accent screamed ‘Texas’ for certain.
Grace offered her hand and they shook briefly and she responded, “No, I’m not expecting anyone. Please, sit down. Oh, I’m Grace.”
“Well Grace, thank you and it’s a pleasure to meet you. Please, help yourself to the cigarettes if you want… or don’t. I just saw you sitting here looking lonely and thought I’d come be lonely with you!”
Grace offered a smile and thought “why not? I always wondered what these ‘girly’ cigs were like” and removed the cellophane and opened the box. She extracted one and admired the length. It was slightly longer than the Marlboros she smoked. Maddy leaned over and offered her a light. She took her first drag and found the taste to be quite good, which she voiced after another drag. “Thank you Maddy. This tastes really good! And I think I like the look!”
Maddy smiled and lit her own before replying. “You’re quite welcome, Grace. I always preferred the more feminine things in life, of course, and this is just one of them! Actually these are shorter than my usual ones, but they were out and I got a couple packs of these. So, is this your first visit to The Barn?”
Grace nodded. “I had heard it was a good place that was very T-friendly and here I am.”
“Well you picked a good place. I come here at least every two weeks just to relax and unwind, you know.” Maddy replied. “Why not waste a little of my hard-earned paycheck every payday?”
Grace smiled. “I’m doing the same thing myself. I like the motif, seems a very ‘country’ flavor.”
“Yeah, it looks like some kind of redneck joint at first glance. But you won’t see drag shows at any redneck places I’ve been to!”
They both laughed, and Grace considered right then that this woman could be a potential friend.
Grace and Maddy continued on that evening talking, smoking, drinking, and laughing. As the evening progressed and Grace felt more relaxed she opened up a bit to Maddy about her life, her relative newness to being out and about dressed in public, and even her hopes and dreams.
Their second encounter soon led to a third, a fourth, and before Grace knew it they were hanging out together every weekend, mostly at Maddy’s home. She had a rather large apartment that was always slightly messy but never nasty. Maddy would always say “So sorry for the mess but I just am so bad about neatening up the place. There are always too many other things I could be doing!”
One evening they were sitting on Maddy’s sofa in front of the TV watching some game show and smoking, drinking wine, and chatting — their usual thing now; when Maddy asked Grace a strange question out of the blue. “Grace, honey… you always seem to be so tense or nervous around me. Is that just naturally how you are, or is there something that bothers you? Please, tell me. I really like you, honey, and if there is something I can do to help I’d love for you to tell me!”
Grace fiddled with her cigarette before nervously replying “I feel a little intimidated by you — not that it’s your fault! I feel the same way about genetic girls, even. I can see you have a lot more life experience than I do.”
Maddy smiled and got up and gave Grace a big hug. “Honey, it really is experience that makes the woman. The more time you spend at it the better you are. Plus, role models are so important! With a good role model you can go far. And, I am almost ten years older than you, so I’ve been at this for a lot longer.”
“You certainly don’t look it! And I’ve actually looked around for a role model but I haven’t found any that I thought that I could learn anything from,” Grace said.
“My Mother taught me a lot — how to sit right, how to walk, how to smoke like a lady. I owe her so much for helping me become the woman I am. What I learned from her I’d be thrilled to share with you, Grace!”
Grace blushed slightly, still slightly hesitant with Maddy but growing closer each time they came together to hang out. But, truth be told, she felt that she needed a mentor to help bring her inner woman to life in the real world. Grace replied “So, your mother knew all about you and was supportive?”
Maddy nodded. “She knew from when I was like, two or maybe three years old, that I was not like other little boys. She could tell. Later, it was just me and her… my father didn’t come back from Desert Storm. He had a good insurance policy, though, and Momma had a good job so I never lacked for a thing.” She pulled one of her extra-long Virginia Slims 120s out and lit it with style, then offered the pack to Grace. Grace took one and accepted a light. She really enjoyed Maddy’s long cigarettes but resisted the urge to switch to the 120s herself. They just attracted way too much attention to the woman smoking them. She had decided, though, that the Virginia Slims Lights 100s were perfect for her and they were now her only brand.
“I really never had to be a boy, Grace. With Momma’s support I lived my life as a girl from early on. I’ve not gotten GRS yet - but I’ve never felt the need to do it, either. I feel that what I have is just nature’s little joke, and I always appreciate a good joke!” She laughed. One thing about Maddy, Grace was learning, was that she was always ready to laugh at herself or anything that could be found to have a funny side.
Maddy asked “So what kind of things do you consider your weak points, Grace? Anything I can help you with, I’d love to! Oh, and have another glass!” She picked up the bottle of Chardonnay from the table and refilled Grace’s glass. Grace snorted but didn’t comment. She’d learned that Maddy had two vices: cigarettes and chardonnay, and she indulged both quite heavily.
Grace pondered what her weak points were while she watched Maddy refill her glass then smoke. She realized that her own smoking style was quite crude in some ways compared to her friend. “Well, your smoking is so very feminine and elegant. We could work on that?”
Maddy gave her a big smile. “Ok honey, first smoking lesson! Always hold your cigarette high and near your head, like this. And keep it between your fingers close to your fingertips.” She demonstrated and exaggerated a slow drag, then returned her hand to where it was before. “Do that.”
Grace mimicked Maddy and a delighted grin from Maddy showed her that she did it well. “Yeah Grace you are a fast learner! Okay, just remember to always elevate the lit end, and don’t let it dangle often except when lighting it.”
Maddy eyed her new friend. “Hmm I don’t think we need to work much on deportment — you seem to have that down quite well. You sit properly, and you have a good posture and you walk well, too. Momma taught me all that stuff but you’ve already mastered that, I think.”
Grace found herself blushing once again and rather than responding she settled for a smile and another drag from her cigarette. Grace never reacted well to compliments or praise.
She exhaled as usual, by just opening her mouth and letting the smoke pour out when Maddy held up her hand. “I see one thing you could do here. I learned it by copying Momma. Watch how I do this, honey.”
Maddy brought her long cigarette to the center of her lips, and then took a long slow drag that went on for two or three seconds. She removed it and then inhaled deeply, making her breasts rise noticeably on her chest. After holding the smoke for about two seconds she pursed her lips and tilted her head slightly upward, letting the smoke escape in a thin stream over Grace’s head. “Now, how did that look to you?”
“It looked very elegant and feminine, Maddy, like some 1950s starlet. I liked the way you did that!”
Maddy grinned. “Good, now you do it.”
Grace repeated Maddy’s actions perfectly, and felt a rush when she was exhaling the smoke.
Maddy clapped her hands and smiled. “See? You are a natural, Grace. Just keep doing it like that and you will project a bit more feminine style with your smoking.”
Grace felt a little buzzed and giggled at Maddy. “I don’t know, Maddy. If I keep smoking the same way that you do I will be dizzy all the time!”
That brought laughter from Maddy. “No, no honey. You’ll get used to it, same as you did when you started smoking.”
“Now, let’s talk a little about makeup, Grace.”
Grace put out her cigarette and grimaced slightly at that.
Maddy laughed and replied “No, no honey I am not being all critical! But there’s a few tips I can share that will help you I am sure.”
“You did a good job, Grace. You have nothing to be ashamed of at all, honey!” Maddy gushed. “I’d suggest more earth tones though.” She tilted her head and studied Grace’s face. “Yes… definitely earth tones. They’ll work for you. Also, remember that ‘Less Is More’, especially when it comes to makeup. Now, look at my face and notice how I blend everything in? You don’t want any hard lines or borders. A makeup brush is your best friend. Do you moisturize every night?”
Grace replied, “No, but I’ve heard often that I should.”
“Oh honey you MUST!”
Grace nodded. “I will try to keep up with that better, teacher!”
Maddy giggled and before Grace realized it was refilling her glass again. “Oh, Maddy, no! You’re going to get me drunk, girl!”
“Oh, please, Grace, don’t be a killjoy. Here, drink up!”
Sitting side by side later, pleasantly buzzed from the wine, Grace had to admit that Maddy was just what she needed in her new life.
Six months after they met they went together to the club where they had first met and Grace was a slightly different woman. Her makeup skills had gone from ‘adequate’ to ‘advanced’ thanks to Maddy’s tips and help. Grace’s wardrobe was greatly expanded. She often got into little arguments with Maddy due to Maddy always buying her new clothes, shoes, and even complete outfits.
Her confidence level had skyrocketed thanks to the encouragement of her new friend. The only downside that Grace saw in all of this was that her smoking had went from roughly ten cigarettes a day to nearly thirty thanks to Maddy’s constant smoking around her. But Grace would admit that she enjoyed the smoking, too. So it didn’t stress her out too much.
Two years after their meeting, Maddy was there for Grace when she went in for breast augmentation surgery. In fact, Maddy had helped her choose how big she was going for and the doctor she went to. Maddy had pushed for a ‘D’ cup like her own, but Grace, ever the more conservative of the two, went for a ‘C’.
Maddy stayed with her while she recovered and pampered her to near death. She had even brought Grace a gift — a brand new 36C Victoria’s Secret lace bra to support her beautiful new breasts.
She owed so much to Maddy, and knew as her thoughts drifted back to the present that she would do anything she could to help her best friend.
They had been inseparable but all good things come to an end and their friendship looked to be doomed to a long-distance one when Maddy got the job she wanted in Denver. They’d had a tearful long weekend goodbye slumber party just a few months ago, and Maddy had promised to visit soon.
Grace sat down at her computer desk and booted her laptop. She typed in the town and state the anonymous woman had given her into Google Maps. The result was a very small town near the border between Colorado and Nebraska, surrounded by farms and wilderness.
After printing out driving directions and a map she then did a search on “The Carpenter’s Light” and was rewarded with quite a few hits. Grace lit a cigarette and began to read about this strange place where her best friend was supposedly living.
One cigarette then became two and then three as she read more information spread across multiple websites. “The Carpenter’s Light” was a Fundamentalist Church ran by a preacher named Jonathan Hayes. It was also a 400-acre work camp by the same name. Hayes’s and his flock ran it as a “pray the Gay away” type camp where gay, lesbian, and transgendered children could be sent to be “cured” of their evil ways and put on the right path to salvation.
What on earth could Maddy be doing at a place like this? She’s always been an atheist as far as I know? Grace pondered this and did some more reading. It seemed that the camp was also somehow intertwined with the county’s sheriff and was used as a work camp for simple misdemeanor crimes like shoplifting and petty theft, burglary and trespassing. Maddy is no criminal, so I don’t see her being sent there as an inmate. And I cannot imagine her voluntarily joining some kooky fundamentalist cult like this seems to be.
Grace was quite worried by this point and decided to make some phone calls. She couldn’t find a web site for the town, but did manage to find a white pages listing for the Sheriff’s office. She also found a listing for the Carpenter’s Light Church and another for the Work Camp. Now, which should I call first? If these people are as bad as I suspect they probably won’t give out much information easily. Damn, if only I knew more before I leap into this!
She finally decided to call the camp and dialed the number. A woman answered, and Grace immediately asked if they had someone there named Madeline Seaver. She was informed that they did not and then she heard a dial tone. Really polite people they have there.
Calling the church only produced an endlessly ringing phone.
Third time’s the charm, I guess. Let’s hope the Sheriff’s Office is more helpful. I can’t just go up there with nothing to go on but an anonymous phone call!
The woman that answered the phone seemed friendlier than the one that answered at the Work Camp, and seemed to actually want to help.
“I don’t see a Madeline Seaver listed in any of our reports, Ma’am. Let me just look under ‘Seaver’ if you like? ”
“Yes, please.”
Grace could hear the tap-tap of her fingers flying over a keyboard and a pause and then “I do have a Marcus Seaver, arrested for possession of marijuana, and resisting arrest… would that be who you are looking for?”
Grace started upon hearing that name. ‘Marcus’ was Maddy’s birth name and she would never reveal it or use it casually. She’d only told Grace the name once while they were both quite drunk.
She thought furiously for a moment, then answered “Yes, I think that is who I was looking for. Was sh-, was he charged or sentenced?” She knew the answer but wanted to confirm it.
“Yes, pled guilty to Possession of a Schedule Three Substance and sentenced to 11-29 at the Work Camp,” the officer replied.
“I see. Are prisoners allowed visitation, there?” she asked.
The woman immediately responded “Yes, on Sundays only, after church services — unless they are on restriction for rules violations.”
“Okay, thank you for your help!” Grace ended the call as the woman replied “You’re welcome!”
Grace consulted MapQuest and checked the route and found it would be roughly a 15 hour drive from her home in Minneapolis. She went into her bedroom and packed a small suitcase with several outfits and underclothes. Then she went to the bathroom for toiletries and makeup.
Within an hour Grace was on the road, a printout of the route in the passenger seat and a cigarette in hand; the stereo blasting with classic rock. At least it was looking to be good traveling weather.
As she drove, she worried a lot about Maddy and what could possibly have happened to her. Why she was in this fundamentalist work camp. Why a little pot had her sentenced to a year. Maddy, a criminal? I just don’t see it.
Grace sat in her motel room and flipped on the TV and lay back on her bed with the remote. She lit a cigarette and started channel surfing. However, she could find nothing but yet another Bush versus Kerry debate, and religious programming. She’d really hoped for a good movie or something fun but it was not to be. She sighed, shut off the television, and went to bed.
Since visitation was only allowed on Sundays and this was a Wednesday, Grace decided to visit the Sheriff’s Department and try to find out more details on Maddy and what had happened.
The town appeared to have just ‘Main Street’ with a few side roads and that was about it. The Sheriff’s office was next to the courthouse. She parked and went inside and found a deputy at the front counter waiting.
“What can I do for you, Ma’am?” he said with a smile.
“I’m checking on a friend that was arrested for a Schedule Three possession charge?”
“Okay. What’s the name of your friend?” he replied.
“You’d have her listed as Marcus Seaver.”
His expression went from friendly to stone-faced in a flash and Grace knew this was not going to go well.
“I don’t have to look that one up. Your friend was arrested for marijuana possession and pled guilty. He’s in the work camp. He was also dressed as a woman and called himself ‘Madeline Seaver’.” The deputy’s face twisted a bit as he finished speaking, obviously disgusted over the whole episode.
Grace responded and made her first big mistake of the day. “Look, whether you approve or not, my friend Madeline is Transgendered. She has had her gender changed on her Birth Certificate and Driver’s License just as I have. She is legally a woman and she shouldn’t be treated otherwise!”
The deputy looked at her as if she were something he’d scraped off his shoe and then replied “Seaver has a penis. He’s a man! We don’t hold to all this gender changin’ and homosexual kind of stuff around here. If you’re like him, I think you’d better be moving along, SIR.”
Grace considered several nasty replies but then staring at his badge made her quickly realize that antagonizing him would be pushing her luck. So she said “Thank you,” and walked back out the door.
Grace walked outside, aggravated and pissed off. She lit a cigarette and tried to calm down as she got back in her Jetta and started back to her motel. Oh I just despise bigoted idiots like that who think they know everything and judge everyone!
She walked down to the courthouse after she decided that talking to Maddy’s attorney might give her more information, assuming he was court-appointed. Since she didn’t call Grace when she was arrested, Grace assumed that this was the case.
The county clerk was very helpful and directed her down the street to the small law office of Lawrence Gibson. Her luck seemed to be changing as he was actually in the office and willing to talk to her.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t do much more than I did. Your friend was facing a felony charge and we did a plea-bargain down to a misdemeanor.”
Grace replied tightly, “Yes, I got that much from that jerk of a deputy at the Sheriff’s office earlier. He was friendly until he found out Maddy was my friend and that we’re both transgendered.”
Gibson went from calm to alarmed. “You told him that you were like Seaver? Transgendered?”
Grace sighed and nodded. “Probably a mistake but I was angry.”
“Miss Carson, I would advise you to head straight to your motel and check out, then head out of here right now. There’s nothing that you can do for Seaver and you are risking a lot, including arrest, if you stick around.” Gibson appeared quite concerned and worried for her safety.
“Mr. Gibson, what are you implying? I’m an upstanding citizen; I shouldn’t have anything to worry about from that deputy! I’ve broken no laws!”
Gibson grimaced. “I believe you. But… look, I don’t necessarily approve of how things are done around here, but I have to live here. My family and I like it here and we tend to overlook the worst things, I suppose. I don’t want you to get in trouble. You really should leave town, today.”
“I… I’ll think about doing that, Mr. Gibson,” she replied, slowly. The man seemed to really think she was in danger of some sort.
“Good. I really don’t want to see you get into any trouble.” He stood up and offered his hand. Grace shook it and thanked him and went back to her car. She was quite confused and a little worried after that visit and was pondering what to do.
I can’t just run back home and leave Maddy here without at least seeing her one time! I will just have to be very careful not to break any laws or do anything that might piss off some redneck deputy.
Grace drove back to the motel, chosen as a safe haven to think. She sat in her room and contemplated what to do next. She’d already inquired about internet access at the motel and was informed that they didn’t do that internet stuff here.
She felt hungry and decided to try out the diner she’d seen just down the road. Not really feeling safe in the town after the lawyer’s consternation that she had outed herself as TG, she decided to drive the half-mile rather than walk.
She entered the diner and sat down. There were about a dozen people in the diner, eating and talking. The food smelled delicious, and when the waitress came over she ordered the special and was delighted when it was brought to her within a minute.
As she was finishing her meal she saw the deputy from the Sheriff’s office come in to the diner and mentally groaned. She hoped he wouldn’t notice her, or if he did, he’d ignore her.
It appeared that her luck was good. He sat at the bar and ordered a cup of coffee and Grace was just finished when she heard him key his walkie-talkie and say “I’m at Irene’s, and it’s here, too, eating.”
Grace, indignant, wanted to say something after being called an ‘it’. But her mother raised no fool. She went to the cash register and paid her bill and headed for the door. Once outside she decided that maybe the lawyer was right, and she should give this adventure up. She got in her car and drove back to the motel. As she pulled in, she saw a police car pull in behind her. The officer got out, but it was not the one from the courthouse and diner.
The officer walked up as she exited her car and she noticed he had a German shepherd dog on a leash. He said “Grace Carson?”
“Yes, I am Grace Carson, Officer.”
“I’m Sheriff Robinson. I wanted to talk to you about your friend, Marcus Seaver.”
Grace replied “Sure, what would you like to know, Sheriff?”
Before he could respond, his dog barked at Grace’s car, several short staccato barks.
The Sheriff eyed the dog and turned back to her. “At this time, I’d like to search your car, Miss Carson. You can refuse permission but then I’ll just call and get a warrant and we’ll search it anyway. “
“What are you searching for, Sheriff?”
“Drugs, Miss Carson. We’ve had an influx of them lately and we are being very careful with strangers these days in our town. If Otto here is wrong, why, then you can be about your business. No harm done.”
Grace nodded and said “Of course, search if you want. I have nothing to hide.”
Not thirty seconds of searching later before the Sheriff backed out of her car with a plastic baggie with some white powder in it. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Grace. “What’s this?”
Grace truthfully denied knowing what was in the baggie or even how it got into her car.
The Sheriff opened it, dipped his little finger in, and then tasted his finger. “Well, well, look what we got here. Cocaine, how about that?”
“That’s not mine! I don’t have any idea where that came from!” Grace said, semi-hysterically.
The Sheriff nodded and pulled out his handcuffs. “Miss Carson, at this time I am placing you under arrest for possession of cocaine, possibly with intent to distribute. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…”
Grace sat fuming in the hard metal chair while the sheriff pawed through her purse, then finally dumped the contents on the chipped wooden table that was probably older than her.
He scooted the items around looking at each one carefully as if he expected to find a drug stash or explosives hidden in her Coach bag.
He nudged the deputy, “Make the list, Cal”. Cal nodded and began writing.
“Let’s see, one wallet, contents driver’s license, social security card, and let’s see… seventy-four dollars in cash and um, two dollars and eighty-six cents change. One VISA card, same name. One leather cigarette case - with a Bic lighter, color purple. One pack of Virginia Slims Lights cigarettes, unopened. Another Bic lighter, color pink. One lipstick. One compact. A packet of tissue...”
He went on through every single item in her purse while Grace tuned it out and thought furiously about whom she might call and what she could do.
“What have we here, Miss?”
Grace looked up and saw the sheriff holding her androgen blockers and her estrogen pill bottles side by side.
“Those are part of my gender therapy. I have prescriptions for both. You can call the pharmacy and check if you want to. The number is on the bottles.”
The sheriff frowned and handed the bottles to the deputy. “I don’t see why people want to just up and mess with what God made. I really don’t. But that’s neither here nor there, I guess. We still have you on possession of cocaine, Carson.”
“I keep telling you that wasn’t mine. Someone had to put it in my car. Maybe at a rest stop, I don’t know!”
“You can tell it to the judge, fag.”
Grace was photographed, fingerprinted, and stuck in a small cell overnight. At least she had the cell to herself. She considered that good fortune, indeed. She didn’t think that this bunch would put her with the women if there were other prisoners.
The next morning a deputy came and unlocked her cell door and said “Carson, you’ve got a visitor. Come with me.” Grace followed him to a small room with a table and two chairs. She was surprised to see Lawrence Gibson sitting in one of the chairs. The deputy nodded to Gibson and left the room, closing the door behind him.
“Hello again. I’m here as your court-appointed attorney, Miss Carson.”
“I didn’t ask for a court-appointed attorney, Mr. Gibson. I asked for a phone call! I have a right to one phone call!” she replied testily.
“Miss Carson, your rights are to representation, not necessarily to using a telephone. Be that as it may, you may of course represent yourself in court but I must strongly advise against it.”
He pulled out the chair across the table from her and sat down. “Shall we proceed, then?” he asked Grace. She nodded, not having a clue what else to do but trust the man.
Gibson picked up his briefcase and laid it on the table then flicked the closures and popped it open, retrieving a manila folder which he laid in front of himself. He opened it and looked it over. Grace could see her mug shot and various bits of info from her shiny new police record.
“Now Miss Carson, the Sheriff’s report says that one gram of powder cocaine was found in a plastic baggie in your car.”
“That wasn’t mine! They planted it there!” she angrily replied.
“Whether they planted it or not is irrelevant right now Miss Carson.” He lowered his voice and said “I did tell you to leave town… now you know why.” Grace sighed and nodded.
“I have bad news and I have good news for you. First, I’ll give you the bad news. You are looking at a Schedule II Substance violation — First Offense. Here in Colorado that is a Class 3 Felony. That is four to twelve years in prison, and anywhere between a three thousand and a seven-hundred-fifty thousand dollar fine.”
Grace gasped and sat there stunned beyond comprehension.
“Now, for the good news. The DA here is pretty lenient on first-time offenders with such a small amount and we can probably get this plea-bargained down to a Misdemeanor. That would mean serving a year or less at worst.”
“Mr. Gibson, why would I plea-bargain? I don’t do drugs, and I certainly don’t sell drugs either! That Sheriff planted that cocaine in my car! Or someone did!” Grace responded heatedly.
Gibson sighed and took off his reading glasses and looked at her sadly. “Look, let me be very blunt and just lay this out for you, Carson. It is your word against the Sheriff’s word here. I know you are transgendered, and that doesn’t fly around here well at all. So, you tell me… if this goes to a jury who will they believe? A Godless tranny or a duly-elected Sheriff that they all know and voted for last election?”
“I suppose they wouldn’t believe a word that I said,” she answered. “But, my being transgendered shouldn’t enter into this at all!”
Gibson snorted. “You got that right, Grace. You’d be headed for prison before you knew what hit you! I’d advise you to sign the plea bargain agreement and serve your time for a misdemeanor. If this was just marijuana you could have maybe gotten off with a fine; but this was cocaine and you will serve time. As for being transgendered… look, the law doesn’t enter into that, here. They are sickened and disturbed by folks like you. They don’t understand and don’t want to understand.”
Grace nodded sadly.
“It won’t be easy on you in this. The judge will almost certainly send you to the work camp, since our jail here is only two cells, as you saw. All I can advise you to do is behave yourself, obey their orders, and keep your head down.”
Grace sighed and signed the paper. I don’t think that there’s any other choice.
“All right, Grace. Court is tomorrow morning at nine. I’ll see you there.” He swept up the paper work into his briefcase and knocked on the door. Grace was escorted back to her cell to sit, alone.
The Bailiff thundered out in the courtroom: “The defendant will rise.” Grace and her attorney stood up.
The judge read over the plea bargain agreement and looked at Grace. “Do you understand that you are pleading guilty to a Schedule Three Possession, which is a Misdemeanor?”
Grace replied “Yes, I do, your Honor.”
“Very well. You have pled guilty of the charge of ‘Possession of a Schedule Three Drug’, amount one ounce, and I therefore sentence you to eleven months and twenty-nine days. To be served at the Carpenter’s Light Work Farm. Early release is dependent upon your behavior and reports from the camp’s liaison with the court. Take the prisoner away.” The judge smacked his gavel.
She looked toward her court-appointed attorney as she was pulled away but he just waved goodbye and began packing up his paperwork into the briefcase he’d arrived with.
The gavel smacked again and before Grace could even think of a response the deputies whisked her away and out the courtroom door. They bundled her into the back of a patrol car and headed for the work camp.
Grace thought, “Well, I wanted to see Maddy. I guess this is one way of doing that!”
Amazing Grace - Chapter 2
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Chapter 2: How Sweet the Sound
Grace discovers the joys of her new home at the work camp, and meets lots of new friends.
In religion and politics people's beliefs and convictions are in almost every case gotten at second-hand, and without examination, from authorities who have not themselves examined the questions at issue but have taken them at second-hand from other non-examiners, whose opinions about them were not worth a brass farthing. — Mark Twain
As the police car slowed on the rough gravel road and pulled up to a closed gate with a small wooden guard shack, Grace looked out all the windows to see her surroundings. Forest lay on both sides of the gate, bisected by an eight-foot high chain-link fence. Grace noticed the razor concertina wire wound liberally along the top of the fence as well. “This would not be an easy place to escape from,” she thought.
The gates were opened and the deputy rolled through and followed a gently curving gravel path up to a group of buildings. The whole installation looked very military. Three flagpoles were in a roundabout in the center of the buildings, with the United States flag on the right, the Colorado state flag on the left, and what appeared, to Grace, to be a Christian flag in the center — elevated above the other two. Grace wondered about that. “Hmm. The US Flag is supposed to be in the center, as I recall.”
The car stopped and the deputy got out and opened her door. She exited the car and stood, looking around at the various buildings. The buildings were all simple wood-framed buildings, nothing special. She saw signs on most of them. “Men’s Quarters”, “Women’s Quarters”, “Men’s Latrine”, “Women’s Latrine”, “Mess Hall”, “Maintenance”.
The deputy took her arm and led her toward a building labeled “Administration”. Once inside they passed a woman at a desk, which Grace figured was the one she talked to that would tell her nothing. They passed several closed doors, most of which were unlabeled. The deputy stopped in front of one labeled ‘Prisoner Intake’, opened the door, and brought her inside.
Grace immediately and without the slightest hesitation decided she didn’t like James “Jimbo” Callahan at all. In fact, she felt scared of him from the moment he walked into the holding room. His round face had a slight reddish hue to it and his sparse thinning hair was in a military style buzz-cut. He was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt with a black tie and black dress pants. The shirt looked starched and didn’t show a single wrinkle or crease.
He looked down at her with a fierce expression on his face and held his hand out to the deputy, who put Grace’s purse into Jimbo’s hand.
“We don’t take kindly to fags running around our town, pretending to be women. So keep that in mind. A man could get himself hurt, trying to fool people into thinking he was a woman. We’re gonna get you right with God, fag. Now, what’s your name?”
“Grace Carson, as you can see on my driver’s license right there?” Grace bit the words out but she strived to be civil.
Jimbo snorted, “No matter, we’ll find out your right name soon enough. The Devil has you in darkness but once you see the light you will go back to your proper name my friend. My name is Jim Callahan. I am in charge of the prisoner intake around here. You’ll learn to jump when I say to jump, or you’ll be one sorry fag.”
He turned away from her. The deputy nodded at him and left, and soon she heard his patrol car head off.
“Now, for our contraband search…”
He unceremoniously turned the purse upside down over the small table and dumped all of her things out. He snorted right away. “Virginia Slims? Of course. You effeminate fags love these girly cigarettes don’t you? Well, we have a rule here: no tobacco whatsoever. Cigarettes are often the wedge Satan uses to slide right on into your life. So, say goodbye to your faggy smokes, buddy.”
Grace would have happily slit the man’s throat for the chance to light up one of those ‘faggy’ smokes but instead had to watch as he crushed the unopened pack and dropped it into a metal wastebasket beside the table. Her black leather cigarette case followed it, along with her spare lighter.
“Now, let’s see here. Lipstick, makeup, my oh my, you really are on the express lane to Hell aren’t you?” All of her makeup followed the cigarettes into the garbage can. Following that was her hairbrush, and even her pens and tissue.
He paused, glanced at Grace with a flat expression, and pulled out her hormones and blockers. He brandished the bottles at her and shook his head sadly back and forth. “I am not going to throw these evil pills away, my friend. You are going to, one day real soon now, while begging Jesus to forgive you for your filthy perversions. Not likely He will, mind you. But, we do try.”
Grace knew the only begging that she planned to do was to her lawyer (once she found a hungry enough one) to sue these idiots for every penny they had or would earn for the next decade.
Her beautiful Coach purse followed everything else into the garbage. All that was left on the table was her wallet and the two medicine bottles. He opened the wallet and extracted everything from it then tossed the wallet into the can as well.
“Now, fairy, it’s time to meet the Reverend. He will get you sorted out with God before you even know it!”
Grace had expected a big man, likely overweight and sweaty with a fanatical light in his eyes. The Reverend Jonathan Hayes was tall, but only slightly overweight. He did indeed have a fanatical look and his eyes seemed to see things in the distance that nobody else could see. The overall feeling that she had upon seeing him was revulsion. He could have done well as a slick car salesman or politician.
“Well now, another young man in Satan’s clutches I see!” he boomed at Grace as he walked over to her. She noticed that he was well over six feet tall and loomed over her. “I’m Jonathan Hayes, and I run this camp. You’re here on a work-release program we have set up with the Sheriff. If you can behave, learn what we teach you and show progress you will leave here a happy and healthy man.”
Grace decided to try for calm reason, first. “Look, this is all a big mistake. I came here to find my friend, and that is the only reason I am here. I broke no laws, which is more than I can say for you! I was brought here on phony drug charges! You have no right to take my things and treat me like this. When I get out of here-“
SMACK! Jimbo stepped close and casually backhanded her across the mouth with a severe look on his face. “Young man, the first thing you need to learn here is respect.”
The Reverend Hayes did not even seem to notice anything had happened. “Now, young man, what is your name?” he said.
Grace replied “My name is Grace Carson.”
This earned her another smack from Jimbo. “Lying is not tolerated here, fag. The Reverend asked your real name, not your fake fag name! Now what is it?”
Grace wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and raised her voice slightly in frustration, “My legal name is Grace Carson, as you can see on my Driver’s Lic-“ SMACK! SMACK! Jimbo hit her twice more.
Hayes became incensed. “How dare you profane a beautiful woman’s name like ‘Grace’ by taking it unto yourself, boy. I know you are demonically controlled but that is no excuse and God sure won’t see it that way. You’re a man! God made you that way! It is complete and utter sick perversion to parade around in women’s clothes and call yourself a woman!”
Jimbo smacked her again. Reverend Hayes raised a hand, slightly, and Jimbo backed away. “It seems you are deep in Satan’s power, my friend. No matter, in time we will strip away the lies and the power of Jesus will reveal all. You will tell us your real name, friend. In good time.” Another guard came into the room and came over to stand beside Grace, with Jimbo moving to her other side.
Hayes nodded and they each took one of her arms. “Now, I need you to strip, young man.”
“I will do no such thing!”
Hayes gestured and the two men began tearing off her clothes as she struggled. She kneed one in the crotch and he groaned and pulled away. Jimbo let her go and opened the door and said “Got a feisty one in here!” and was handed a cattle prod! He said nothing but walked over, jabbed it into her side, and pulled the trigger on it.
Grace dropped to the floor screaming in agony as the high voltage ripped through her and she felt intense burning where the sharp contacts of the cattle prod jabbed into her skin. He held it in place and bore down on it while holding the trigger until Hayes raised his hand. He then pulled it away and the three men stood there watching her convulsions slowly ease off. The man she had kneed in the crotch was glaring at her.
Hayes spoke up “Now, young man, we will try this again. I hope that was a learning experience for you.”
He gestured at her and Jimbo and her glaring victim hauled her to her feet and began to rip her clothing away.
Both men were quite muscular and soon had her blouse, shoes, jeans, and even her bra ripped off. Once the bra was clear her perky C-cups stood out. Rather than ogling them as most men would, the three men looked disgusted.
“I had hoped you were wearing breast forms, but no, Satan has had you in his power for far too long. You’ve mutilated the male body that God gave you! And you are obviously possessed by more than one demon, young man. Don’t be afraid! We will help you regain your freedom! This I swear before God himself my friend!”
He gestured and Jimbo ripped off Grace’s panties, allowing a slightly atrophied penis and testes to appear. Reverend Hayes nodded in satisfaction at seeing this. “It’s good you haven’t mutilated your male parts, too. There is hope we can put you back on the right track.”
Jimbo was facing Grace and only she could see his face while Reverend Hayes was talking and she noticed that he grimaced when Hayes mentioned putting her back on the “right track”. Interesting, she thought.
A woman entered the room carrying a bundle of clothing, which she sat on the table, then turned and left without a word. Hayes gestured at the bundle. “These are your clothes, now. Go ahead and put them on. Cover your nakedness.”
Grace frowned as she went through the various items of clothing in the bundle. A pair of men’s boxer shorts, white, and starched. A men’s tee shirt, a white long-sleeved dress shirt (also starched). A pair of khaki pants, and a black tie.
As they’d taken the remains of her clothing away, she decided that, for now, she’d play along with this insanity. I don’t want any more of that cattle prod, no way!
She quickly slipped on the boxers, grimacing at how rough and stiff they felt. This was followed by the pants, the shirt, and then the sandals she found underneath it all. She held up the tie and looked at Hayes. “I have no idea how this thing works.”
Hayes rolled his eyes and Jimbo snickered. “You won’t need that right now. The tie is required for Sunday Services but throughout the week you won’t need it.”
Hayes looked her up and down and shook his head. “You make a poor man right now, my friend. But with God’s help I hope and prayer we can change that. Now, let me explain the rules, here in our little camp.”
He walked away from her then turned back and recited what sounded like a well-practiced routine.
“First and foremost there is to be NO physical or sexual contact between yourself and any other person here, unless and until you are instructed otherwise. If you are caught breaking that rule, the punishment is quite severe. You will not practice your fag perversions with other men here. We will not tolerate it! There are younger men and women here who are not inmates. They are here by their parents’ request to be cured of their inclinations to choose the fag lifestyle that has become so popular in these Last Days. If you are found to be encouraging those youngsters in perversions, or gainsaying our attempts to cure them the consequences will be severe.”
“Second, in every barracks there is a Guidebook with our rules. They are to be followed. We follow God’s commandments strictly, here. That means no stealing, no lying, no disrespecting your elders — that would be the staff, here. Needless to say there are no drugs, tobacco, alcohol or anything like that here nor is it tolerated. Your days of smoking, abusing drugs, and boozing are over.”
Grace felt it wouldn’t get her far to mention that she had never abused any drugs and rarely drank.
“Thirdly, you are a prisoner here serving your sentence. Attempting to escape can and will be met with deadly force, when required. You are an inmate, and keep that in mind if you get any notions to try to flee. Our camp guards are armed and do have the authority to shoot you if you are seen trying to escape.”
Lovely, she thought.
“You will live in one of the male barracks with the other men who are inmates. You will be expected to keep your area spotless at all times. Failure to do so means punishments.”
Of course it does, you sanctimonious prick.
“You will be expected to work in the garden. We grow most of our own food here. We also have livestock you will help take care of. You will also, at times, be on work details. Clearing brush, trees, putting up fencing, things like that.”
“The camp is about 500 acres and is entirely fenced in. You will be shown what areas you are allowed in and told about the ones you are not.”
“And last, but not least...” Hayes walked right up to her and looked down with what might have been sympathy. “You will be taught to be a Man again, my friend. We will try to pull you from Satan’s clutches and bring you into the Light of Christ. If you will just try to meet us halfway we can turn your life around.”
“Did you understand everything that I said, Mr. Carson?” Hayes said.
Grace simply nodded.
“Do you have any questions?”
Grace thought for a moment, carefully, and decided that these people were nuts and anything she asked or said would get her nothing but more abuse.
“No, sir, I don’t.”
Hayes smiled at her. “Sir, eh? I like to see some respect from our new inmates, and it’s nice to not have to teach them that right off, isn’t it Jimbo?”
Jimbo nodded. “Yes, Reverend, let’s just hope this one can be saved, as well.”
“Well then, Carson, there’s one last thing we need to take care of before we settle you in.” He turned to the door and tapped, and was handed a small metal case. He sat that on the table and opened it. Inside were scissors and a hair trimmer. Grace knew what was coming and her emotions went on overload. “NO, please, don’t cut my hair! Noooo!”
Jimbo and the guard held her while Hayes whacked her hair off to within a few inches of her scalp. He then took the trimmer and plugged it in, and shaved her head, leaving roughly an inch of hair. She now had a buzz-cut.
Grace sat sobbing and staring at the remains of her hair scattered in the floor below her. This is worse in some ways than that damn cattle-prod.
Jimbo grabbed Grace by the upper arm and led her out of the room, down the hallway, and outside. Once they were outside he stopped and looked at her. “I know what you’re thinking, faggot. You’re already plotting to try to escape. All I can say is, please, try! We haven’t got to shoot a fag in months!”
He led Grace to a small nondescript building with no label on it. Once inside she was pushed into the lone chair occupying the room and Jimbo began tying her to the chair very tightly. Each arm was bound to a chair arm, and her legs bound to the chair legs. She couldn’t move at all.
Within a few minutes five men and one woman walked into the room. Reverend Hayes was in the lead, carrying a Bible. They all knelt down in the floor around Grace’s chair. Grace would have found some amusement in all of this if not for the fact she was scared out of her wits and still in tears over the loss of her hair.
Reverend Hayes was right in front of her, beside him was Jimbo. All of them had their eyes tightly closed with sweat rolling down their faces. The room was very hot and there was no ventilation at all. They began praying, out loud.
The strangest part to her was that all of them were praying as if they were alone. In her still half-conscious state all the words seemed to run together into a buzz. But the same phrases kept cropping up from each and every one of them. The Reverend seemed to be reading a Bible story in the midst of all the prayers.
“Dear Lord… save this poor man from Satan’s demons!” “The power of Jesus compels you!” “…he lived among the tombs…” “flee the power of Jesus you foul demons” “…and no one could bind him any more, not even with a chain…” “You cannot stand against the power of Christ Himself!” “…and when Jesus saw from afar, he ran and FELL DOWN BEFORE HIM! (AMEN!)” “Amen!” “Amen brother!” “…and crying out with a loud voice, he said ‘What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?...” “ohh preach it Brother Hayes, drive the unclean spirit out!”
Grace tried to tune it all out and experimentally wiggled in her chair, but she found the ropes around her were cruelly tight and she had absolutely no leeway to move in any direction.
Grace sighed and thought to herself “are they expecting my head to spin around and for me to vomit split-pea soup?”
After nearly two solid hours of ‘Prayer Power” directed at her, Grace was ready to say anything or do anything just to get them to shut up. She didn’t even have the luxury of dozing off during this madness — as every time she closed her eyes or let her head droop she got a jolt from a cattle prod Jimbo had brought into the room. Two of those were enough to make sure she looked alert and paid attention.
Grace decided to confess her sinful ways and try to convince them that her demons had fled in terror from their incredible Prayer Power. She opened her mouth but before the first word was out Reverend Hayes pointed at her and screamed “Be silent! You shall not speak or utter your blasphemies until we have completed our prayer meeting!”
She closed her mouth and endured.
After what seemed hours of prayer, chanting, and exhortations for demons to flee Grace’s body, one of the women in the group took a Sharpie marker out of a drawer. She uncapped it and walked around to Grace’s right side while one of the guards grabbed Grace’s fingers and held them tight. This had the effect, combined with the bonds around the arm of the chair, of making her unable to move her hand even slightly. The woman slowly and carefully inscribed the numbers 6 6 6 on the back of Grace’s right hand with the Sharpie.
Hayes helpfully explained that “We cannot get the demonic force out of you at the moment, so you are marked as one of Satan’s own, you see. That identifies you to all as a source of evil, not to be trusted, and not to be let out of camp alone.”
Grace sighed and stared at her new semi-permanent tattoo as they untied her from the chair.
Grace neither responded nor offered any resistance as she was led outside the Administration building and towards the building marked ‘Men’s Barracks’. They entered and to Grace it looked like what she thought an Army barracks would look like. A row of beds down each side flanking an open aisle, and a door on the other end labeled ‘Barracks Supervisor’.
They marched down the aisle, and Grace found herself being examined as they walked by each cot. She noticed some of the men were already sleeping, but a few were awake. She spotted Maddy right off and almost gasped.
Maddy grinned at her and held out her hand, palm down, displaying her own ‘6 6 6’ logo. Grace laughed and held her own out. Maddy said “Welcome, Sister of Evil!”
The guard frowned and said “In bed with you or you’ll earn a Demerit. You know it is quiet time! Either read your Bible or sleep! You know the rules!”
Maddy winked at Grace and mouthed “talk later”, then lay down on her cot. Grace was led all the way to the end where an empty cot awaited.
“This is your sleep area. You know to keep it clean and neat?” the guard said. Grace nodded.
“Good. You’ll not like it if you don’t. This is your nightstand. Your Bible is in this drawer.” He opened the drawer and pointed to a Bible.
“I suggest you read it often, you really do need it. Oh and it is after nine PM and that means no talking, no anything but sleeping or reading. There’s a Guidebook here, too. ‘Lights Out’ at ten PM sharp.” He handed a slim manual to Grace. “You need to read that. Good night and God Bless.” He left.
Grace looked around the room and was debating going to visit Maddy’s cot when she spotted the first camera up in the trusses of the room. The barracks was very Spartan construction and as such there was no ceiling, just wooden trusses and the lighting fixtures stretched across them, each with 2 fluorescent bulbs. She spotted one camera right off, then upon closer examination found that there were eight cameras total.
Sheesh these people are a paranoid and controlling bunch. I guess I’ll have to wait and visit Maddy later on.
She thumbed through the Guidebook, noticing the list of rules went on for endless pages. I am totally not in the mood for more of their propaganda right now — I’ll read it later.
She slipped off her pants and shirt and crawled into her cot, covered up, and was soon asleep.
Grace awoke to the sound of reveille coming from several speakers around the barracks. She heard several groans but saw people stirring to life. There was no clock visible anywhere but the guidebook had stated that six AM was wake-up time. As she sat up and looked around she noticed fresh folded clothes on her nightstand. She also noticed a smiling man staring at her from near the foot of her bed.
When her eyes met his he gave a big grin and walked over to her. “Hi, Mr. Carson! My name is Pete and I will be your Mentor!” He offered his hand and when Grace shook with him he squeezed her hand almost painfully and shook her hand up and down with enthusiasm. His thousand watt smile dimmed a moment when he took in her unbound breasts but it returned quickly.
“So, what’s your first name, my new brother in Christ-to-be? I can’t keep calling you Mr. Carson!” He grinned in a friendly fashion and actually winked.
“It’s Grace. Grace Carson,” she replied.
Pete’s smile went away as if turned off by a switch. “Err, no, we don’t do that here, Carson. I guess we will just have to use your last name for now.” He shook his head, then brightened up once more.
“Do you like our little home here, Carson? I know you didn’t exactly volunteer to join us, but if you’ll just let Jesus into your heart I think you’ll find this place is actually wonderful!”
Grace immediately wanted to strangle this overly cheerful wretch who seemed to want to hover all over her. “Oh, it’s just a wonderful place, Pete. How could anyone not love it?” She gave a big phony smile showing her teeth.
Apparently good old Pete had at least some sense and backed away out of her personal space and back to the foot of the cot.
He rubbed his hands together and the cheer erupted like the sun from behind the clouds once more. “Now, Carson, I am here to be your helper! I will help you in any way that I can and make your life better. You can count on your Mentor to get you all set up here and on the right track!”
“Can you get me out of this camp?”
“Err, no.”
“Can you get me a phone?”
“Umm, no. Inmates aren’t allowed ph-”
“Internet access?”
“Oh, no! The internet is Satan’s Playground.”
“Ah, yes. Of course it is, my bad. How about a cigarette?”
“Good Lord, no! Those foul things? How can you poison yourself with-”
“How about some coffee?”
“We don’t pollute our bodies with caffeine, either!”
Grace cocked an eye at Pete and said “So far you’re not making my life a whole lot better, there, Petey.”
“It’s Pete, not Petey, Carson.”
“Whatever. Ok how about breakfast?”
The big smile returned. “Now that I can help you with! If you want to get dressed I’ll take you over for Morning Mess and Blessings.”
“Oh, great. I love me some Morning Blessings! Let me get ready.”
Grace dressed in the freshly laundered (and heavily starched) shirt, then pants and slipped on her sandals and off they went. The rest of the inmates had filtered out the door while she and her New Best Friend had been chatting.
As they walked she gave Pete a good examination. He was around her age, probably younger. There was no writing on his hands, not that she expected to see any. His hair was cut in the same crew-cut that every man here sported. He didn’t seem to ‘get’ her sarcasm in the slightest. Usually in her experience that meant lower intelligence.
The Mess Hall was a short walk across the compound. She spotted the first female inmates on their walk to breakfast. Many of the inmates had the ever-popular ‘6 6 6’ inked on their right hands as hers was. She reflexively raised her own hand and looked at it.
Pete noticed and spoke up “It’s not permanent you know. If you will accept Christ and repent of your sins it can be erased — just as the stain of sin can be erased from your soul!”
Grace confined her response to an eye-roll.
As she was finishing her tasteless oatmeal and trying very hard not to barf, a guard walked in and whispered in Pete’s ear. All she heard from Pete was an “Oh, dear. Okay, we’ll get over there in just a few. Thank you!”
Grace raised an eyebrow at Pete and he muttered “You didn’t read your Guidebook, did you, Carson?”
She shook her head while swallowing the goop and trying not to think about it. “I read some of it.”
Pete sighed. “Carson, you are responsible for keeping your sleeping area neat and orderly — and you left a mess. We have to head back over there after you eat.”
Grace thought for just a split second and pushed her bowl of goo away and said “Let’s go, I’m… full.”
Pete frowned, then nodded and they left the Mess Hall. Whatever was making him frown would have to wait.
They walked into the barracks and ran into a glowering woman near Grace’s cot. Pete stepped between them and smiled. “Carson this is Mrs. Watson. She’s your Barracks Warden! Mrs. Watson this is Carson.”
The woman, about forty, Grace thought, was in a pale blue dress with her hair tied in a tight bun. She had lots of frown wrinkles and an expression that seemed as if she had been eating lemons.
“Well. Mister Carson! Were you not warned about keeping your sleeping area clean young man?” She pointed to Grace’s discarded clothing at the foot of the cot. “We do not leave our clothing lying around. You are not a child. And we make our bed before we leave for the day. You have earned yourself one demerit, young man!”
After her speech she whipped out a black notebook and flipped pages till she presumably came to Grace’s page and dramatically wrote in the book.
Grace frowned and looked around, noticing that every other cot in the building but hers was neatly made up and looked quite orderly. She decided that she’d better read that stupid Guidebook to avoid any further problems.
She was about to settle in to reading it when she noticed a man looking at her, standing beside the next cot over.
The man was a gay man named Jay Benson. He smiled at Grace and asked her name. When she told him, it was refreshing to see none of the facial expressions that most of the whack-jobs around this town exhibited.
“Well, Grace, I would say that it is nice to meet you… hah, well it is nice to meet you, but I think we’d both agree that the circumstances could be so much better! I would offer to shake hands but physical contact is against the rules, you know.”
“No, I don’t know, but I do need to read this book and find out I suppose,” she replied.
He nodded and said “Yes I’d recommend that. There are a lot of rules here and it is way too easy to earn demerits. So, do read that thoroughly, Grace. We’ll talk later I am sure!” He smiled at her and went off.
Nobody came to bark any orders at her so she began to read the Guidebook. Jay wasn’t kidding at all; the rules went on for pages and pages. She wasn’t allowed to touch anyone without permission. She wasn’t allowed to ‘blaspheme’ or to ‘take the name of the Lord in vain’ or have sex or touch herself in her ‘private places.’
She would be attending weekly classes on how perverted her life was and how evil people who were LGBT were.
The Guidebook explained in gory detail the eternal punishments awaiting them all in Hell. There would be classes to explain how homosexuality was invented by Satan to damn mankind.
Grace snorted often reading the book and did a lot of eye-rolling.
One thing that didn’t make her laugh was the paragraph on demerits:
‘When an Inmate reaches 5 Demerits, that Inmate shall receive a public caning. Each Demerit will equal one lash of the cane. Inmates are strongly advised to obey the rules and the staff to avoid such outcomes. All Inmates shall attend the weekly canings on Monday evenings. Upon reaching 10 demerits, inmates will be whipped.'
Grace was shocked and, not for the first time, scared. Wow, and I already have one Demerit for not being neat and tidy, from that old bag. Great.
She also learned that she had to obey her Mentor in all things. She had to shower at specific times and do chores at specific times. Every single rule had warnings about Demerits if she broke one of them. Failure to do an ‘adequate’ level of work led to Demerits. ‘Laziness’ led to Demerits.
Showing ‘disrespect to any staff member or fellow inmate’ equaled Demerits as well.
Grace threw the book to the side, irritated. This isn’t a work camp, this is fucking Auschwitz! All we need is a sign on the gate that says ‘Arbeit Macht Frei’!
Her least favorite staff member chose that moment to appear. “Well, why are you lazing about in bed, Carson?” Mrs. Watson exclaimed. “We do not tolerate laziness and sloth here. You just earned another demerit, young man.” She whipped out her book and noted it.
Grace sighed. “Look, nobody told me that I need to be anywhere or do anything! There’s no need to be a bitch about this. Tell me where I am supposed to be then!”
That earned her another demerit for calling Mrs. Watson a bitch.
Great, I have three now. I foresee a caning in my immediate future.
Mrs. Watson shook her head at her newest charge. “I can tell you are going to be trouble, young man. If you’d bothered to come ask me I would have told you where you needed to be.”
Grace bit back her sarcasm and nearly choked on it. She then said “Mrs. Watson, where should I be right now?”
Mrs. Watson smirked. “Now you ask. It’s Friday, so you should be helping in the laundry. There’s a schedule on the board down there by the door. I’d suggest you read it, Carson.” She sniffed, and stalked off towards her office.
Grace put her fresh uniform on and made her cot up so that it was as neat as the other cots, then took yesterday’s dirty clothing to the hamper near Watson’s office. She dropped them in; then headed down to the board to see what her schedule looked like. She saw this:
- CARSON -
- Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday
- Services Class Garden Maintenance Class Laundry Garden
- Bible Study Laundry Kitchen Maintenance Kitchen Laundry Garden
- Services Discipline Laundry Bible Study Maintenance Laundry Garden
There were not any time frames listed but Grace figured out each of the three blocks was probably roughly five hours — which later turned out to be the case. Grace thought Sunday looked like a day that she’d not enjoy.
It looks like today is Laundry Day all day for me! She wandered outside to find where the laundry was done.
Approaching a guard or another inmate seemed to be the best strategy to find the laundry area so she quickly found a guard and was curtly directed to a building behind the Mess Hall. Inside, she found sweating male and female inmates washing, drying, ironing, starching, and folding clothing.
A balding man in the inevitable white shirt and tie, holding a clipboard, walked over to her, and looked her up and down. He then looked at his clipboard and said “Carson?”
Grace nodded.
“I’m Ray. I’m in charge here. And you’re late, Carson. You were supposed to be here almost an hour ago. You just earned yourself a demerit. Now, get over there and start loading and unloading the washers.” He, too, seemed to have eaten lemons for breakfast, much like her favorite Barracks Warden.
Grace paled, and then ran over to the washers. Ugh, four now. One more and I get to experience caning.
It didn’t take long to learn that Laundry Day would not be a fun day for Grace. The work was hot, demanding, and there were no rest breaks. They were allowed a two minute water break in the middle of their shift. No talking was allowed. Grace found this rule out when she started to make small talk with a fellow inmate.
“Carson! There’s no talking and fraternizing here. You are here to work, not socialize! That’s another demerit for you!”
Grace bit her lip to keep from blowing up at this asshole martinet and went back to work without saying a word.
Rivers of sweat ran down Grace’s back. She had to heave huge bags of laundry from a cart, unload the bag into an industrial washing machine, put a cup of powder in and start it up. Once that was done, the next bag was to be loaded. Once the cart was empty it had to be moved over to the drying area.
Lunch couldn’t come soon enough, and when Ray blew a whistle and called out “Lunch!” she was ecstatic. As she headed to the door, Ray called out to her. “I’ll see you back here in exactly thirty minutes, Carson, or you get two more demerits. Clear?”
Grace, always a fast learner, replied “Yes, sir,” and fled for the Mess Hall.
She entered the Mess Hall, hoping against hope that Lunch would be tastier than the unappetizing goo she’d been served for breakfast. She got in line with the others and grabbed a plastic tray and a plate, and a plastic fork and spoon. I guess nobody will be making shanks in this particular prison!
The food was better than high school cafeteria food. The vegetables were all fresh. The meat was a piece of bologna. There was one slice of bread, only. She cleaned her plate and ran back to the Laundry, fearful she’d be late. She entered and found herself alone with Ray.
“Well, that was quick! You weren’t hungry, Carson?” he said.
“I already ate, sir. I just hurried back because I didn’t know how much time I had.”
He laughed at her and pointed to a clock on the wall above the dryers. “Not too bright are you, Carson? You had fifteen minutes left. You can go ahead and get back to work.”
By the end of the day, Grace was too exhausted to do anything but fall in her cot and was asleep within a minute.
The next morning Pete appeared shortly after she was awakened. He was all smiles, as usual. “Good morning, Carson! How are we today?”
Grace groaned. “We are sore. We are tired. We worked all day in that stinking hellhole that you people call a Laundry.”
Pete frowned. “Carson, you really need to be careful of saying things like that. Otherwise you could end up-“
“It’s much too late to warn him. That’s another demerit, Carson. For speaking ill of our camp.” She gleefully marked down another in her little book, and then grinned at Grace. “Well, look at this. That makes six demerits for you. You have an appointment with the cane, come Monday!”
She walked back to her office, looking quite cheerful.
“What a sadistic bitch she is,” said Grace.
Pete jumped as if someone had stuck a needle in his butt. “Carson! Watch what you say! You’re already up for six licks, you don’t want more!”
Grace nodded, too tired to argue about it.
“Come on now, let’s go to breakfast. After that, I’ll take you to the garden and get you started on your day!”
Grace marched off with Pete to another unappetizing breakfast. She didn’t want to finish her food.
“Well, Carson, I know it’s not that great but we can’t be wasting food the Lord has provided. If you don’t eat, you get —“
“Oh wait! I got this one. I get demerits! Right?!” Grace yelled.
Pete shrunk back but nodded. “Of course.”
“Wow, imagine that. More demerits! A lucky guess on my part, huh?”
Pete shook his head and went back to finishing his own meal.
The garden was actually pretty. Grace was a city girl but the vast area that the camp used for a garden was mostly all planted and growing in the May sunshine. She liked what she saw.
Pete brought Grace over to a small building where a man sat. He was older than anyone she has seen here, yet. He wore a straw hat and overalls. His name was Fred Butler, and she was later to learn that he was 79 years old.
“Carson. Have you ever worked in a garden before? Or grown vegetables?” His expression looked as if he doubted Grace even knew what a vegetable was.
“No, sir. I’ve never done either.”
Butler snorted and shook his head, then nodded at Pete, who gave them both a cheerful wave and headed away.
“Come with me then, young... man. Let’s get you started.”
He handed her an implement she recognized as a hoe, and then led her on a short walk to one area in the vast cultivated fields. He pointed at rows of plants that were about a foot high. “These here are tomato plants, Carson. Make sure you recognize them. Got that?”
“Yes, sir, I can identify them now,” Grace replied.
“Good man! Now, all you need to do is go down each row here. Use your hoe to chop away anything that isn’t a tomato plant. Like this.” To demonstrate, he used his own hoe to cut away some small weeds growing here and there around the plant in front of him.
“Now, once you’ve got your weeds under control, use the hoe to chop up the ground like I am doing and pull the loose dirt around the plant a little, like this.”
Grace watched and grasped the basics and nodded.
“I’ll leave you to it. There’s water here whenever you need a drink. Just come get it, don’t worry about permission or anything. Bathroom around the side, there. I’ll call for you when it’s lunchtime.”
Grace nodded and went to work. That old man is the nicest one in the entire nuthouse, so far. He still probably thinks I am some kind of freak but at least he was nice enough not to say it.
She found that she didn’t mind the work at all. It got her away from the crazies, and let her just enjoy the peace and quiet and the outdoors. Nobody came near her or bothered her so she just focused on her work and tried to not think too much about canings or demerits.
After a full day of gardening, she sat in her cot, reflecting on things before she went to sleep. Grace decided that Saturdays would probably be her favorite day if the schedule stayed as it was. She actually learned some things, and the work was not too bad, at least not compared to the laundry.
She fell asleep before they turned out the lights, hoping tomorrow’s “Day of Rest” would actually mean some real rest.
Amazing Grace - Chapter 3
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Chapter 3: That Saved a Wretch Like Me
Grace attends "church", talks with her friend, and is Disciplined.
Chapter 3 That Saved a Wretch Like Me
“Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.” ”• Albert Einstein
Grace had been brought to the work camp on a Thursday. It was now Sunday morning and she was informed that she must wear her tie to church services. She didn’t think much of that plan at all. Oh, joy, I get to wear my new tie. Will the wonderful blessings never stop coming?
Grace was quite shocked when they were all herded onto a battered old school-bus and told to take a seat. The women sat on one side, the men on the other. She sighed but said nothing as she was directed to the men’s side of the bus, sharing a seat with one of the quieter inmates. She didn’t even know his name, and he didn’t say a word to her as she sat down.
She was shocked again as the bus left the camp through the open gates and trundled down the gravel road to the main road. The bus rolled along about a mile and pulled in a gravel parking lot in front of a simple church with a large sign flanked by brick columns by the road. “The Carpenter’s Light Chapel; Rev. Jonathan Hayes; The Wages of Sin Is Death!”
Grace noted the two armed guards eyeing them like hawks as they stepped down off the bus. They were ushered inside and drifted in to the church. She heard a muted buzz and was surprised to find the place was packed. Apparently most, or all, of the town attended church here.
The chapel was a simple affair, inside resembling an old-time one-room church that used to dot the land across the country. Hard wooden pews lined up in two sections with an aisle between them, leading up to the pulpit. The pulpit was a simple wooden lectern with a microphone attached. Speakers hung from the ceiling on the left and right, aimed at the congregation. A battered looking piano sat in one corner, looking quite forlorn and abandoned.
Grace and her fellow inmates were marched to the very front of the church, and directed right for the men, left for the women. Glancing around, she noticed the entire church was segregated like this; even the non-inmates did not sit with their spouses or families. The sharp division of genders only bore out how crazy these people were, in her mind.
She sat down on the hard wooden pew and noticed a small table in front of the podium. It was piled high with Chick Tracts. She’d read more than a few in her lifetime, and she ruefully thought that this bunch of wackos would certainly be fans of Chick.
Hayes strode to the podium and uttered a quick prayer then he was off and running.
“Original Sin! That, brothers and sisters, is what led us to where we are today. Too many downplay the first sin in the world, but I do not! Eve brought us to where we are today — mired in sin, perversion, filth, adultery, and faggotry!
Grace kept her face blank as she watched and listened but thought “Ah, how perfectly splendid I get to hear this lunatic rave for who knows how long.” At least she could see Maddy next to her. That brought a joy to her that the Reverend Hayes nor any of his brainwashed flock could take away. She dared not speak to Maddy, though. The guards were quite watchful and the Reverend seemed to like staring right at the front row. I guess we are the Sinner’s Row, here.
Hayes continued “I’m often asked something by the lost, the media, and others…” Hayes changed his voice to a squeaky falsetto. “Oh, Reverend Hayes! Why are you so mean to the poor gays and lesbians and transgendered? Why oh why do you say bad things about them?”
Hayes slapped the podium hard, startling Grace and some of the others who hadn’t heard this particular sermon before. He slapped to punctuate each word he bellowed. “BECAUSE” SMACK! “THEY” SMACK! “ARE” SMACK! “EVIL!!!” SMACK!
“Men wanting to be women. Men dressing AS women! Men lying with men as they would a woman! The Bible warns about this over and over again! Men are to never be effeminate! It is an.. ABOMINATION!”
Several of his flock yelled “AMEN” and “Preach it, Brother Hayes!”
“Eve is the original sinner! Who talked Adam into sinning? Eve did! Who listened to the Serpent? Eve did! Who did God see as the culprit? Eve! If you study your Bible as diligently as I have it all comes clear, brothers and sisters! WHY does God say that the woman submit to the man? Why does He say that the wife must OBEY” SMACK! “her husband?”
Hayes lowered his voice for the next part.
“My friends, it is because women are the weaker sex. More easily led astray. More prone to embrace wickedness. More prone to listen to Satan. JUST LIKE EVE!”
Grace, with herculean effort, managed not to roll her eyes — as Hayes was looking right at her. So, women are all evil. I should have known. My eyes are opened now! But she kept her face as calm and devoid of expression as she could. She really did not want more demerits or beatings or even her old friend, the cattle prod.
“That is why the Bible instructs men to not spare the rod on their women, brothers and sisters. If a woman strays out of line, it is the husbands HOLY DUTY to correct her - physically! It’s right here in the Bible! All women need a male influence to protect, cherish, nurture, and CHASTISE when needed, my friends!”
“You’ve heard the old saying about women being the weaker sex. That doesn’t mean weaker physically, though it has been changed to that meaning by our modern society!” He managed to put a world of scorn into the word ‘modern’, Grace noted.
“No, my friends, the original meaning was MORALLY WEAKER! Isn’t that right, Ladies?”
Grace looked over at the women’s side of the church to see what the response would be. The Lesbian Contingent mostly sat still, though a few nodded. The women further back — who Grace had labeled in her head The True Believers - were all nodding and saying “Amen!”
I think I could easily be sick right now, Grace thought.
Hayes paused and produced a glass of water from behind his pulpit and took a drink before charging onward. Grace risked a glance around, and found that most of her fellow inmates had the same guarded and peaceful expression she was trying to project. The True Believers, though, wore rapturous expressions that reminded Grace of old pictures of teenagers staring at Elvis or The Beatles. Hayes was their rock star and they were jamming to his beat and none other.
“We are truly in the Last Days, my brethren! But that gives us no right to sit hidden in our church while the sodomites take over this once-great nation! No! We are WARRIORS for GOD! And we must fight to the bitter end! Can I get an amen?”
“AMEN!” the congregation roared.
“Amen!” he answered. He took another sip of water and stared at the inmates on the two front rows on each side for a moment, then began again.
“As you all know, we have our Sodomite inmates here with us today. A wicked bunch they are, too. Enslaved with Satan’s power and deep into his perversions, and filth. And yet, they can be saved! Yes! They can be saved just as we are! That is why they are here!”
Grace thought it very cute how he talked over their heads as if they were not even in the room. It showed just how little respect he had for them as human beings.
He finally addressed them directly. “My friends, you are here today to get the chance to be saved. Any of you can walk up here, bow down, and confess your perversions and turn your back on Satan. Turn to Jesus, and He will make you a new creature! Free of sin! Free of your perversions and sick lust for your own gender! All you need do is come up here and confess!”
He lifted his hands at the congregation and they all stood up. Grace rose with all of the rest. They began singing “Just As I Am.”
As they sang, Hayes continued softly with his message. “This may be your last chance. For some of you it probably IS your last chance on this earth to accept Christ and leave your life of sin and perversion behind. I know Satan’s hold on you is strong! I know you worship Satan! I know your kind! But, you can be free of him!”
Hayes walked over to the women’s side and while his attention was away she looked at Maddy and raised an eyebrow. I wonder if I can walk up there and do a little song and dance and maybe not be treated as badly? Anything would be an improvement…
Maddy knew full well what Grace was thinking, as she’d had the same thoughts herself in the past. She shook her head slightly at Grace, indicating it was a bad idea.
In the end, nobody walked up and confessed anything or came to Jesus. After the song ended, Hayes did a long meandering prayer, thick on anti-sodomite phrases and the hope that these Satanic perverts would one day see the light. Then, they were dismissed.
The inmates headed back to the bus, and this time Grace made sure that she and Maddy shared a seat — near the middle of the bus, away from the guard in front and the one at the very rear.
After the bus was started and they rolled out they began to talk, quietly.
“Welcome to Hell, Grace! When I sent word by Emily, I begged her to give you enough details to know to bring some help along… not just yourself!”
Maddy looked… rough. Sporting the same buzz-cut style but in blonde, the same white starched men’s shirt, the same khaki pants. Her breasts appeared to be bound like Grace’s. As Maddy had DD breasts, the binding did not do a lot to cover them. Grace also noted bruises on Maddy’s face.
Grace felt her eyes begin to tear and she hugged Maddy tightly, after making sure the guards were not watching them.
“Grace I am so sorry you are here honey. But, I am glad to see you at the same time. I’ve missed you terribly!”
With a smile for Maddy, Grace agreed and said “I have missed you too, Maddy. I had to come when I heard. You’re my best friend in the world and I couldn’t just abandon you to this nuthouse!”
Maddy beamed at Grace but said “Still, I wish you were not trapped here too! Look at your poor hair, gone, like mine!” She sniffled and started crying.
“It will grow back Maddy! Don’t let that bother you, honey. Listen. Why did you tell me not to go up front at the church? I thought I could walk up there and get ‘converted’ and maybe-“
Maddy interrupted her, “Have an easier time of it? No, Grace. I’ve seen that tried since I got here. It doesn’t work that way. If you did that, they’d call a doctor in here to remove your breast implants. And if you refused to sign the release asking them to be removed, you’d be treated even worse than we are now! They’d also hold you to a much stricter standard. You see, right now you are just a damned soul they try to reach. Once you join the flock, you’d have it worse.”
Grace shook her head sadly. She was relieved she had not decided to try her scheme. One more I owe Maddy, in a long string of things!
Grace tried to lighten the moment. “Well your sentence can’t be too long, and mine is just one year… we’ll get out of this, Maddy! We just have to hold on!”
Maddy groaned and shook her head. “No, Grace, you don’t have a clue what you’ve stumbled into. Oh God I wish you hadn’t come here. You have no idea what this place is or how you leave here, if you ever do.”
Grace felt chilled by the despair in her voice and the hopelessness as well. “What do you mean?”
“Grace, honey…” Maddy paused and was quiet for a moment. “Nobody like us gets out of here. We either convert and stay on as ‘trustees’, kind of… or… we just… disappear. God “gives up” on us, you see.”
“What do you mean, ‘disappear’?!” Grace mouthed in horror.
“Just what I said. There’s been two girls since I was brought here that just weren’t here anymore. Asking questions about them wasn’t a good idea, either, as I found out. I am not sure just what they do with their failures, but they certainly don’t just let them walk out the gate hon.”
“Are you saying they are murdering people, Maddy? Or, shipping them off somewhere else? Or… what?”
“Grace I just don’t know! As I said, two girls have vanished while I’ve been here. Nobody knew where they went, or if they did, they wouldn’t tell me. Asking around the staff was a mistake, too. I got demerits for it.”
Grace winced.
“Yeah, tell me about it. Try to avoid getting five demerits, Grace. It… hurts. A lot.”
“They’ve caned you, Maddy?”
“Oh, yes. Three times now and I am on my fourth demerit as we speak.”
“Err, I am on my sixth right now.”
“Oh, honey. Oh no! Grace I am so sorry. I’ll be there tomorrow evening with you. Just be strong and don’t try to evade the licks. If you do, he will just add more on.”
Grace groaned and nodded. “Maddy, however did you end up here?”
She smirked and said “My own damn fault. You know I love to drive around and explore new places. I got on the highway and was hitting all these small towns, ya know? I had a little baggie of weed in my purse, and got pulled over for speeding just outside of town, here. The rest is history.”
The bus reached camp so they went silent as it pulled up and the doors were opened.
They were sent back to the barracks for their allotted Bible Study time, after a decent lunch. Bible Study turned out to be just what it sounded like. Grace was to read her Bible, be silent, and stay on her cot.
Back to the Church at 6 PM, for 2 hours of Fire and Brimstone from Hayes, followed by a bus ride back and Bible reading until Mrs. Watson shut off the lights.
I am going to go fucking insane doing this week after week. They want to break me and/or brainwash me. And, I can see it working after enough of this. I have to get out of here somehow. And oh, tomorrow is my caning.
Monday morning meant her first class. What that class might be about, Grace had a pretty good guess. Where it was held was the mystery, but her new Best Friend Forever, Petey, was able to clear that right up.
They sat in the Mess Hall and Grace nibbled on her breakfast of mystery meat, toast, and some watery substance masquerading as orange juice.
“Yes, your first class is this morning, isn’t it? I’ll take you there of course. You will learn a lot!” Pete exclaimed.
“Oh, Petey, I just can’t wait!” Grace gushed.
Her class consisted of a droning forty-something woman talking about love, marriage, God’s Plan for Her Life, and how perverted and sick she and the other four people in the class were. Grace had already came to the conclusion that, propaganda repeated often enough would likely bore the intelligent into a stupor — and convince the dumb. She acted attentive but for the most part tuned it out. Her mind was mainly on the block of time on her calendar labeled ‘Discipline.’
One of the four people in the group was there not as a guest of the Sheriff. A young man named Jerry was placed in the camp by his parents, seeking a cure for his gayness. They spoke a bit during a recess and Grace was so sad for the boy. His own parents sent him here. How could someone who is supposed to love and cherish their children through good and bad do this? How could any parent send their child to this camp to go through this?
Grace did her shift in the Laundry building but barely thought much on it and ignored Ray and his taunts and generally sour disposition. Her one thought about Ray was an amused one. For people who are supposed to be filled with the love of Christ and know they are supposed to spend eternity in Heaven, they sure are a bunch of hateful sourpusses.
Grace sat on her cot, flipping idly through her Bible so that she looked good for the cameras. She’d had a glance through Watson’s door earlier when she came back and saw a huge bank of monitors on the sadistic bitch’s desk. She knew Watson would be watching everyone like a hawk and Grace didn’t want yet more demerits. Watson had told her that Discipline Time would be in an hour, and to prepare herself.
“And how am I supposed to prepare myself to be beaten and abused?” she asked.
Mrs. Watson walked up to Grace, nearly nose to nose, and smirked. “Rather than smart off to your betters, you should be praying right now you filthy fag. I can’t wait to see you get what is coming to you!” She stalked away, leaving Grace staring at her and imagining some very nasty things she would love to do to that woman.
Grace walked with three others, following Mrs. Watson. They were soon joined by another sour-faced woman, presumably the barracks leader of the women’s barracks. She had a single woman in tow.
They marched past the Admin building and then past the Garage and towards the woods. Grace noticed a wooden platform ahead and all the other inmates gathered around it. On the platform was a wooden chair nailed down to the platform itself, with leather cuffs dangling from chains on the back of the chair. Reverend Hayes stood on the platform with a cane in his hand.
Hayes called out the first name. “Carson! Front and center!”
Grace trembled but climbed up to the platform.
“Lower your pants and your underpants!”
She slid her pants down and then her boxers. One of his guards mounted the platform and laced her hands into the leather cuffs on the back of the chair. She found that her arms were held tightly and she could barely move other than shuffling her feet.
Grace saw Maddy in the crowd and looked at her with wide eyes. Maddy was crying, tears leaving streaks through the dirt on her cheeks.
“Carson, you have seven demerits listed. Therefore you get seven licks. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, voice shaking.
Hayes raised his voice so that everyone could hear him clearly. “We don’t do this to be mean! We do this punishment to instruct and to correct! Carson earned seven demerits, so will receive seven lashes of the cane in the hopes that he will modify his behavior!”
She waited, trembling, and heard the whoosh of the cane whistling through the air before it struck. When it struck she screamed like a banshee. The man had a very strong arm and Grace had never felt such pain.
The crowd chanted out “One!”
She tried to pull away on the second one as she heard the whistle of it incoming, but it did no good. The scream ripped out of her throat, even louder. He’d hit the same place again.
“Two!”
Three and four came and she went from screaming to bawling in agony nonstop. She was facing the entire population and she could see Maddy crying and several of the inmates had tears, as well. Some of the guards were smirking and a few were actually laughing at her. Mrs. Watson was not far away from Grace and she had a look of absolute sadistic delight on her face.
Grace felt wetness on her legs and saw a few rivulets of blood running down both.
After five and six Grace could do nothing but howl and sob from the pain, and then finally number seven landed. Someone opened her cuffs and she fell flat to the platform.
Hayes offered a parting shot. “Just remember, the pain here ends after a while. Hell is an eternity of this!”
The guard dragged her away from Hayes and handed her off to Maddy and her next-cot-neighbor, Jay. They helped her walk back towards the main camp. As they left, she could hear Hayes spouting on about redemption and punishment with the next victim.
When they arrived at her cot, they lay Grace down gently on her stomach. Maddy produced a small bottle of lotion, which she rubbed on Grace’s welts. “I can get away with this since the bitch is at the caning, probably creaming her damn panties. This lotion is all I can do, though, honey. I am so, so, sorry you came here for me.” She started sobbing while still rubbing the lotion on Grace’s back.
Grace reached back and took one of Maddy’s hands. “I’d do anything for you, Maddy. You’re my best friend, so don’t say that again, honey.”
Tuesday morning reveille came and Grace made the mistake of turning from her side over on to her back. She groaned and hopped out of the cot. She gently slipped her fresh tee on, then the button-up starched shirt.
Sure enough, Pete appeared in short order. “Carson. How are you doing?” he asked, slightly anxious.
Grace gave him a little smile and said “As well as can be expected after a good beating, I guess, Petey.”
Pete didn’t bother to correct her about his name, just nodded. “Ready for some breakfast, then?”
She shrugged and said “Sure.”
Apparently the Gardener had either heard of her punishment or had been there, unseen by Grace. He asked how she was feeling and had her stand in the shack and break beans and nothing else, really. She assured him she’d like to work so he let her take a hoe and weed for the rest of her shift.
Pete showed up right on time and led her off to the Kitchen for her shift there. The poor man was looking at her so funny from time to time that she finally stopped walking and said “Okay, Petey. Out with it, what’s up with the staring and the troubled looks?”
Pete looked at the ground, the sky, the trees, and generally everywhere but her direction but finally answered. “Well, Carson, it’s you. You just… you’re supposed to be a man but sometimes I forget. You are so… feminine! And at times it really throws me off. You’re not like some gay guy acting like a sissy. You come across just like any woman would.”
Grace grinned at the poor man. “Petey dear, I am a woman where it counts, up here.” She tapped her head.
“And here.” She tapped her chest. Pete stared at her breasts and she laughed. “No, in my heart, not my breasts!” She dissolved in giggles, the first time she’d laughed since the caning. “Oh, thank you Petey. I needed a good laugh!”
Pete smiled and led her onwards, still confused but glad that he had helped his charge.
Pete dropped her off at the Kitchen. It was a small building connected by a swinging door to the Mess Hall. He said “Go on in, Carson. Emily will be in there and show you what needs to be done. She’s the Kitchen Supervisor.” He trotted off and Grace made her way in.
Emily Weston was a slim woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties. Grace thought her voice sounded familiar, and sure enough the Kitchen Supervisor was her mysterious caller that started this nightmare.
“You were supposed to, I don’t know, get a lawyer or some liberal ACLU types and get your friend out of here, not become a prisoner yourself! Do you have any idea what you are in for at this place, Miss Carson?”
Grace replied dryly “I have some idea, yes.”
Emily nodded. “I feel so bad for some of you. I don’t really hold with how they treat your kind here. I don’t think you can help being how you are. So, when Maddy asked me to contact you, I did it.”
Grace was still feeling irritated but tried to respond calmly. “Look, you could have told me a lot more and I’d have come here with some kind of backup or support. Instead I am stuck here, at least for a year.”
“I’m sorry Grace. But, I had very limited time and I really don’t want to become an inmate here.”
“Could you at least try to get me out of here!” Grace responded.
Emily looked down at the ground; obviously she realized that she was at least partially to blame for Grace’s incarceration here. “Grace… I’m not sure what you expect that I could do! I work here, yes, but I cannot just drive out of here with you or anyone else. The guards at the gate would see. They have cameras all over the parking area. If I tried to sneak you in to my car it would be spotted!”
Grace nodded in understanding, as she’d been spotting the cameras all over the place since she had arrived here. Another idea came to her, though. “Well, ok, sneaking me out is not going to work. I get that. How about contacting someone for me?”
The woman shook her head sadly. “Grace, the whole town is pretty much in his clutches. He brings in money — you know, donations from his radio program; his inmates do work for the town — for little of nothing. He’s a hero to those people. And the phones are monitored by the local phone co-op. They’d be all over me in a heartbeat!”
Grace didn’t have to ask who ‘he’ was.
Emily went on. “And as you no doubt found out firsthand, the Sheriff and his deputies are all in his pocket, too. All a phone call would earn me is a place in the women’s barracks as a prisoner.”
She met Grace’s sullen stare with a small smile. “Look, Grace… I might not be able to get you out of here, but maybe, next time I get a chance to call someone, I will do that for you. I’ll help you in any way that I can.”
“How did you call me last week without getting caught?” Grace asked.
“I was lucky. I was in town on errands for the kitchen, buying some utensils and a few supplies, you know. And the operator that monitors all the phone calls was at the store and her replacement that fills in was at the beauty shop. I’d seen her a few minutes earlier. So, I used the phone in the store office.”
“Well, the best place I would know to call would be the ACLU, I guess. You’d have to look up their number.”
Emily nodded. “We’ll see when the time comes. Meanwhile, have you ever peeled potatoes before, Grace?”
Grace sighed.
Other than it being monotonous work at times, Grace found she didn’t mind the kitchen duty all that much. Emily was easy to work for, and would often pitch in and help Grace with the tasks assigned to her.
Grace risked a question. “Emily, you said you didn’t approve of the treatment we get here. Why do you work here, that being the case?”
They were washing up pots and pans, and Emily was elbows-deep in water as much as Grace was. She thought for a bit then answered. “Well, Grace, first of all it’s a job, and I needed one. And, over time, I found that I could help the poor folks here a bit. Treat them like people, you know? I don’t hold with beatings and the other things they do here to break your spirit. Christ said to love one another as you would Him. That’s how we should all act.”
Grace could see why Maddy risked trusting this woman. She was everything a Christian was supposed to be.
Emily went on. “What about you, Grace? What is your faith? Do you have any?”
Grace decided to tell the truth. “Actually, Emily, I suppose you’d say I am Agnostic, or maybe a Deist. I don’t really know? I’d like to believe that Jesus is real and loves me but I don’t know that for certain. And if He is real, I am completely positive that He doesn’t want people who are different from the norm to be beaten, tortured, and brainwashed.”
Emily reached over to the sink Grace was washing in and took Grace’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Grace, you are a very special person. Much like Maddy is. I see why you two are friends. And I am so sorry that you are both stuck in this place. You don’t belong here.”
Grace squeezed her hand back, thankful to have found a new friend in this horrible purgatory.
“On time I see, and hopefully ready to work?” Ray growled at Grace. Grace nodded and replied “Yes, sir, I am.”
She got a nod and was waved at the Ironing area. Ray was, for the most part, a man of few words. She could feel his hatred. A different flavor than Mrs. Watson or the guards, but still, hatred. These people are… broken. I don’t know any other way to describe it. They are broken and small and filled with bitterness and hatred and… well everything negative you could imagine. They are the polar opposite of what Christians are supposed to be!
One thing became clear to many in the camp — and that was the fact the Grace’s mannerisms, deportment, and outlook was one hundred percent female. This caused no end of strange and disapproving looks amongst the more converted members of the camp, in addition to poor old Pete’s constant confusion. The inmates seemed to accept her as she was for the most part, however.
As for Pete, he was beginning to grow on Grace, somewhat. He never expressed hatred or gave her the evil looks that many here did. Oh, he parroted the bigoted idiocy that he was force-fed, but overall the man seemed to be a lot like Emily — a good human being in a horrible place.
Amazing Grace - Chapter 4
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Chapter 4: I Once Was Lost
“Religion: It’s given people hope in a world torn apart by… religion.”
”• Jon Stewart
Wednesday came, and that was marked Maintenance all day. Grace inquired of the sour-faced Mrs. Watson on where to go after breakfast and was curtly informed of her destination — the Maintenance Garage. This turned out to be a rather large building with a garage, a work room, and quarter for the Head of Maintenance.
She let Pete lead her to the Maintenance Head’s Office and to meet her new supervisor there, who was none other than her old friend Jimbo.
“Well, look who’s here! It’s Carson! How are you enjoying our lovely camp, my fine faggot friend?” he laughed.
“I’m doing well, thank you, sir,” she replied, quietly. Her instincts told her how to deal with Jimbo. He wanted respect and subservience. In fact, he seemed to crave it. But, she felt she was walking through a minefield with him, regardless.
He waved off Pete and led her into the garage area. “While you’re here you’re mine to do with as I please. And don’t concern yourself with demerits, fag. You cross me and I’ll knock the crap right out of you. Got that?”
Grace answered “Yes, sir.”
Jimbo smiled and playfully punched Grace in the shoulder. “You know, I would kinda like you if you weren’t a fag? Do you believe that, Carson?”
“Yes, sir, if you say so.”
“I do say so! You really do have your woman act down pretty good. I bet you have fooled a lot of men haven’t ya?” he asked, rhetorically.
“Well, I have never set out to fool anyone. I just have expressed who I am and let people take me however they decide to,” she answered.
Jimbo stood and stared at her a long time. Then, nodded and led her to the back of the garage. He pointed at a push-broom and said “First thing, I want you to clean this place up. Get it looking good for me. What with your woman thing you got going I’m sure you’ll do a great job!” He started laughing and walked off.
Not only did Grace sweep the place to within an inch of its life, she organized all of the tools piled haphazardly around into a neat array on the walls and workbenches. She noted one tool that made her smile: a pair of bolt-cutters. She carefully hung them on the wall with the rest of the tools continued on.
When Jimbo returned he let out a sharp whistle of approval. “Well, now! Carson I am impressed. You got this place looking shipshape! I didn’t think you had it in you!”
Grace smiled and replied “Thank you, sir. I always believe in doing the best that I can at whatever I do.”
Jimbo nodded. “Go on to lunch, see you back here in half an hour. Don’t be late.”
Grace scampered off to lunch. She didn’t see Jimbo standing there watching her as she left, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. She also didn’t hear him mutter “Best of a bad lot, I guess.”
After supper she reported back to Jimbo’s office. She found him standing in the doorway that led in to the garage, watching her. She stood there waiting to see what he wanted her to do next.
Grace found out rather quickly what was next, as he grabbed her arm and led her over to one of the back corners of the garage. There were two sawhorses there, with a half-dozen two-by-fours laying across them.
He got behind her, pushed her up against them and bent her over, saying “Don’t move or say one word, fag!”
She thought she knew what was coming, and sadly enough she was right. He pulled her pants and boxers down, then walked over and dead-bolted the door. Jimbo then walked into the bathroom and came back with a small jar of Vaseline.
Grace debated whether to say anything or beg him to stop, but decided in the end all she would get by that would be a beating or demerits or both.
He was rough. Brutal, crude, and shortly after he began, it was over. Grace stayed in position, bent over the wood and was softly crying. She wasn’t just crying from the act of rape itself. Her butt was still very sore from her caning and this had made it hurt again.
“Hush up the tears now, fag. You gotta understand, sometimes a man needs relief, you see. It’s a sin to fornicate with a woman you ain’t married to. Reverend Hayes is real strict on that sorta thing. So, I need something to take care of that, and you look so much like a woman, even now, that you’ll do nicely.”
He flung a rag at Grace, presumably to dry her tears.
“Look, to me you’re like one of them blow-up dolls some men get with, you know? You’re not really a person anymore, you’re an ‘it’. I ain’t fornicatin’ with a woman, nor a man, so you see - it don’t count in the eyes of God. Now, that don’t mean you can go around spreadin’ lies or anything about this. You keep your fag mouth shut and your short life on this earth won’t be near as bad as it could be. But if you tell even one soul about this…”
Jimbo leaned in close till his nose almost touched Grace’s and dropped his voice to a grim whisper. “One word about this to anyone and I will find you and I will break your neck and send you straight to Hell, Carson. You got that?”
Grace was, by turns, incensed, astounded, and horrified by Jimbo’s little speech wherein she was reduced to nothing but a sentient sex toy. She felt there was no choice but to be agreeable and bide her time. She responded cautiously “I understand, sir, and I will not say a word to anyone.”
Jimbo smiled, glad that this fag understood who was in charge around here.
“See, this is one area that me and the good Reverend don’t quite see eye to eye. He thinks that if he works with you fags and prays he can get you right with God. Me, I believe what the good Reverend Phelps down in Kansas has to say. God gave you up when you decided to turn gay and mutilate your God-given body into a freakshow half-woman body. God is the only one who could cure you of this sin and he don’t want nothin’ to do with you now. You are beyond hope and Hell-bound is how Reverend Phelps sees it, and how I see it too.”
Jimbo paced on the stained concrete floor as he explained How Things Are to Grace.
“Now, Reverend Hayes has had some purely blessed success with some of the young confused kids we get in here. Their parents find out they are being turned gay by the schools and the media and Hollywood and all that and they send them here. We straighten them out and get them back on the right track before it’s too late and they become full-time fags you see?”
Grace nodded. Jimbo stopped pacing and whirled to point at her.
“But look at you! You’ve burned all your bridges with God and there is just nothing for you in the future but Hell. God don’t want you back ya see? All you can do is live your perverted life lusting after men’s dicks and then die and burn for eternity. There’s just… No… Hope... For… You!” He smacked his hands together on each word.
Grace sighed and looked down at the floor, apparently accepting his grim forecast for her afterlife.
Jimbo resumed pacing and pontificating on her sorry state.
“So Reverend Hayes, God bless his soul, will keep trying to save you. But you and I know you gave your soul to Satan a long time ago and you will never get right with God. Trannies like you embrace the perversion and live for it — you’re doomed and you know it. And even worse, you actively recruit and try to corrupt others into your perverted lifestyle. Don’t try to deny it!”
She was not about to try to deny anything. Grace didn’t breathe a word and backed up slightly as Jimbo was really worked up and all she could do is tremble and try to look respectful and meek.
“You fags know you are bound for Hell, and the only way you all react to that is to try to drag others with you! Misery loves company you see!
“Your best bet is to show up here when I need a little stress relief and do a good job of it. Keep your mouth shut about it, obey, and your life here won’t be too awful, I guess. Do you understand me, Carson? Are we clear on this?”
Jimbo walked up to her and looked right into her eyes. She almost flinched but cleared her throat and replied “We are clear on this, sir. Crystal clear, sir.”
Jimbo smiled. “Good! Maybe you are smarter than I thought. If you can behave yourself, take care of things I need taken care of, and keep your mouth shut I think I can see my way to making your life here a little easier than some, maybe. You’re back here tomorrow evening. Got some mowing for you to do. After that, well, meet me in here and take care of… some things for me here. Clear on that, too? ”
“Perfectly, sir. I’ll be here.” Grace replied quickly.
“Good. Now get outta here.”
Grace had an uneventful night’s sleep, followed by another dull breakfast. She finished eating and headed to her class, deciding that being late would just mean being closer to one more beating. It wasn’t worth it.
Grace arrived to her class on time and found her teacher to be Reverend Hayes. She fought hard to keep her emotions from showing upon seeing her teacher.
She took a seat among five other students and waited for the Happy Time Bullshit Hour to begin.
On the whiteboard up front was written one word: LOVE
“Good morning, class!”
Grace sighed and joined in “Good Morning, Reverend Hayes!”
“Today we’re going to talk about love. Love between God and Man, and Man and Woman, and the perversions of love that Satan has constructed!”
Oh, no, please. Not more of this. Please. God, if you are there, I’ll go volunteer in Africa for You if You would just shut him up… please?
“Now, we know from Genesis that Adam was lonely and needed some help around the home. So, God decided to create a helper for Adam: Eve. That was her purpose, you see! She was to help him, and keep him from being lonely. Do you understand?”
Everyone nodded and Grace nodded as well but thought “Oh I understand all right. You’re a misogynist asshole who hates women and maybe you even have repressed homosexual tendencies."
Hayes was winding himself up. “But SATAN didn’t like that! He approached the weak-willed Eve and easily led her to SIN! And she used her feminine whiles to lead poor Adam into SIN as WELL!!!”
“You SEE, my friends! From the feminine nature springs temptation and wickedness! Without a FIRM hand, Satan gets his foot in the door! You so-called “transgendered” fags try to be women! It’s the evil of SATAN in your SOUL! A man is set above a woman for a PURPOSE! It’s GOD’s WILL!!!”
Grace made another mistake but she just couldn’t help it.
Hayes paused in his tirade. “Carson! What did you say? Repeat that?”
In for a penny… “I said that you should probably convert to Islam.”
“WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?”
“Well, the more fundamentalist Muslims hate women and treat them as property rather than people. And they even cover their bodies since they are evil, and all that. You’d fit right in.”
Grace sat stoically, waiting to be given 10 demerits or more. Or maybe locked in ‘Solitary Confinement’ — something she’d heard of offhandedly but knew nothing about yet.
But Hayes surprised her. He laughed at her!
“Carson you are so pitiful. You listen to Satan’s lies and parrot them like a trained bird. You expected a demerit didn’t you? Well, you got one! But you’re not going to bait me in my class. Smart off again like that and you WILL get ten demerits. Understood?”
Grace nodded. The class went on and she endured. What else could she do?
The mower was an old-fashioned manual rotary-type push mower, which was not a surprise to Grace in the least. She mowed until dinner, and met Pete outside the Mess Hall.
Pete gave her a sunny smile. “How did your work for Jimbo go last night, Carson?”
Grace responded, “Oh, it was quite a rough evening. I busted my butt and really impressed Jimbo with my talents, I do believe.”
“Carson that’s great! I am so glad to see you fitting in around here at last!”
“Well, Jimbo fits in whether he’s wanted there or not!”
Poor Pete looked confused so Grace let her innuendo drop. She said “Yeah, Jimbo is certainly a character, isn’t he?”
Pete nodded. “He had a rough time when he came here. He lost his wife and son in a fire and he’s never been the same since. I hope he can get over it.”
Grace nodded; surprised she could feel sympathy for even Jimbo.
She pulled on the side door of the garage and found it unlocked, as she expected that it would be. She slipped in quickly, closed the door and locked it. She then walked swiftly across the concrete floor to the door that led to Jimbo’s quarters and rapped softly on it. The door opened immediately and Jimbo stepped out. He looked at her for a moment then pointed over to the sawhorse without a word. Grace bit back a sigh and did as instructed.
Jimbo pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to Grace. “Here, take this, for next time. Use it when you get in here, before you knock on my door.” Grace took the object and was quite shocked to see what it was. She slipped it into her pocket and nodded.
Jimbo seemed pleased that she didn’t comment on the request so Grace decided to press her luck.
“Jimbo?”
He had started to turn to go back into his quarters but he stopped and said “What?”
“I was thinking about what you told me last time. And, I was wondering if I could ask you a really big favor?”
Jimbo replied “And what would that be?”
Grace wasn’t about to ask him for his help for her escape plans, because she knew that would just get her beaten. She had her sights set much lower than that, hoping the degradation of being used as a sex toy would at least gain her something besides humiliation.
“You told me how I don’t have any hope… how I am bound for Hell. Maybe you are right about that, I don’t know.”
Jimbo nodded, pleased that she had paid attention. “Go on.”
“But, you know this place is driving me crazy. I really miss having a cigarette from time to time. Could you see your way to get me some?”
He started laughing at her as if she’d told him something hilarious. “Yeah you came in here with those cancer sticks didn’t you? And still wanting them after being without for all this time? See, I was right about the evil inside you wasn’t I, Carson?”
Grace nodded quickly in agreement. “I am, sir. And, I know it. I just want a little pleasure before… you know… Hell.”
That made Jimbo laugh even harder. “Oh you’re a real hoot, Carson. Well, to answer your question: no, I won’t buy you any cigarettes nor anything else like that! The Reverend would have my hide if he found out.”
Grace looked at the floor, dejected that he wouldn’t even do that much.
Jimbo walked over and looked down at her. “However, If you would happen to come across any, on your own… I’d let you smoke in the garage here, after… Nobody comes in here but me.”
He paused for a minute in thought. “Matter of fact, if we confiscate any from an intake I might see my way to bringing them to you. Maybe. You keep old Jimbo happy and I just might come up with some. Either way, you can smoke ‘em in here, I guess, as long as you do it in here and hide them here too. Okay?”
Grace smiled up at him and nodded. “I understand. And, thank you, Jimbo.”
“Don’t thank me too quick, Carson. Just remember: if you get caught smoking or doing anything else you shouldn’t it’s all on you. One word about me and you don’t even want to think about what I will do to you. Got it?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
He nodded and went to his door and was gone.
Grace sat on her cot and thought a lot about the object Jimbo had given her. She held it in her hands, took the lid off for the fifth time and stared at the cherry red Maybelline lipstick before slipping the lid back on. Maybe he wants me to look more feminine so that in his mind he is less ‘gay’ when he is fucking my ass? Or maybe he just has a thing for trannies? Either way, I guess I will wear it if it keeps him more civil and gives me a tiny bit of freedom. And I am kind of proud of my acting for him… maybe I have a future as an actress!
She slept well that night, her aching rear end starting to ease off.
The days passed, and another week was gone. Everything was becoming a blur to Grace. Her world revolved around the stupid chores calendar on the blackboard. She was beginning to have bizarre dreams, and in them, the camp became Stalag 13 from the old sixties show “Hogan’s Heroes.” Pete would make a good Sgt. Schultz, anyways, I suppose.
Grace was more than a little concerned about her bizarre dreams and her lost sense of time.
Emily greeted Grace with a hug and Grace thought she smelled cigarette smoke on the woman. But, she decided that wasn’t the case and she was imagining it.
But, later as they were breaking beans and talking Emily leaned in close to talk to her. Grace’s nose caught another whiff of that tantalizing scent and then she realized: Emily had recently had a cigarette!
“Emily, you smoke, don’t you?” Grace asked.
The woman showed a guarded expression and said “Yes, though they fuss at me often for it. I keep it out of sight of everyone here as much as I can. I often wish I could quit but I’d miss it too much. Why do you ask?”
“Since you offered to help me any way you can, could you possibly get me a pack of cigarettes?”
Emily gasped “Grace I can’t do that! If they caught you with them they’d want to know where you got them and they’d beat it out of you. And then I’d be in a world of hurt! I keep my own smoking as secret as I can. It’s not looked on here very well.”
“I won’t get caught, Emily. I have an… understanding, with someone here. I have a place to hide them and to smoke them safely. Please, Emily, I need them. I am going fucking insane in this nuthouse!”
Grace watched Emily closely as the woman was obviously thinking things over. Her face had been troubled but her expression lightened a bit as she finally said “Okay, Grace. I will slip a pack in my purse and bring it to you. Some matches, too? Or a lighter? And what brand do you want me to bring you?”
“A lighter would be good. And Virginia Slims, regulars, please.”
Emily snorted and replied “I should have known!”
Grace grinned in response.
“If you get caught with them, please, for the love of God, don’t tell them I gave them to you. Okay?”
Grace’s face went solemn. “I promise that I will not under any circumstance tell them, Emily. If I were to get caught, I will say I stole them from some woman’s purse in the Admin building.”
“I’ll have them for you tomorrow, honey.”
Grace grinned. One small victory, at least. Right now she would take whatever small victories she could get.
Grace tore the cellophane off the pack of Virginia Slims and then the foil and with shaking hands pulled one out. She placed it in her lips and lit the cigarette and took a long drag. After inhaling she felt her head spinning and the much anticipated sense of relief that it brought. Grace felt nothing but pure ecstasy as she drew on the rapidly shrinking cigarette again and again.
Jimbo stood watching her with contempt as she took one drag after another.
“See that’s just one more thing that shows how weak you are Carson. You’ve been off those cancer sticks for well over a month and the first chance you get here you are sucking on them again. A real man isn’t weak like you! A real man resists letting a little stick of tobacco take over his life. But you’re not a man any more are you?”
Grace didn’t know what response would be wise so she just nodded and took another deep drag.
Jimbo smirked at her and shook his head. “You know you are bound for Hell when you die, and here you are making sure you shorten your life so you can get to Hell faster.”
“I needed these, Jimbo. I’m going crazy in this place and any relief I can find I will take.”
Jimbo snorted. “You should be looking for relief in the Bible. Reverend Hayes says that is the only way to find happiness and peace, you know.”
Grace took a drag and asked Jimbo “What about you, Jimbo? Has this place and Hayes and his people brought you that?”
Jimbo looked troubled. “My problems are my own entire fault. The reverend just tries to help me. Not his fault that he can’t fix some things.”
“Seems to me, Jimbo, that maybe he doesn’t have all the answers after all?” she asked, softly.
Jimbo grunted. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“Maybe he sells hate, bigotry, and damnation because that is all he has to sell?” she pushed.
Jimbo looked slightly uncomfortable but the comment hit right on target, it was obvious.
He turned to go but couldn’t resist a bit more commentary. “Make sure and turn off the lights and don’t let anyone see you leave. I’ll leave you here to work on getting to Hell faster!” He laughed, shook his head, and went through the door and it closed behind him.
Grace took a final drag and walked over to the small garage bathroom and entered, dropped the spent butt in the toilet, then flushed and replied in a whisper “I am in Hell, Jimbo. But, I hope to find a way out of it.”
After breakfast, Grace was surprised to find Pete leading her to the camp bus. She raised an eyebrow and he said “Public Service, Carson. The camp sends out workers from time to time. They clean, paint, wash houses and cars. A little of everything. I’ll see you when you get back!”
Grace nodded and followed the waiting guard onto the bus, where she found seven others. Some smiled and nodded, others just stared at her with hateful or blank expressions.
She looked towards the front of the bus, seeing that the guards were not paying attention at all — they were all laughing and talking amongst themselves. She turned back to the other inmates and smirked.
“I can tell which of you are ‘converted’ and which are not, just by how you treat me. You converted are full of hate and fear, and the unconverted are nice to me. Isn’t that ironic?”
That got her more glares from some and a few snickers and chuckles from the rest.
The bus dropped her and one other off along with one guard. She was assigned to Mrs. Owen’s house. She was led around to the side where cans of paint and a roller, tray, and brushes awaited.
“All right fag. Start painting this house. You fags are supposed to be artistic! Well, let’s see you in action!”
The guard laughed uproariously at his pathetic humor. Grace did the smart thing and got to work. Putting him down with a cutting remark would only earn her a demerit.
Grace was not only exhausted but her shirt was soaked with sweat and splattered with paint, her pants were in the same condition. She was debating on whether or not to request a drink of water when Mrs. Owen came out with a tall glass and approached the guard.
“Lance, it sure is hot out here. I thought you could use a glass of lemonade!”
“Awww, thanks Mrs. Owen, I really appreciate it!”
Grace worked up the courage and looked at the old woman and said “Could I have a glass of water, Mrs. Owen?”
The woman ignored her and looked at the deputy and said “Imagine, a fag asking me for a favor. It will ask for a lot of water in Hell, won’t it?”
Lance brayed laughter and brandished the cattle prod at Grace in an obvious “get back to work” gesture.
Mrs. Owen went back in her house and Grace glanced back at the guard and said “Really nice people you have here in your town.”
“Shut up, fag. She’s a nice lady, but since you don’t know I’ll lay it out for you. Her husband ran off with some perverted tranny like you three years ago. Your kind ruined her marriage and her life. So just shut your yap and get your painting done.”
Riding back from church on Sunday, Maddy and Grace managed to get a little time together. Maddy wasted no time bring her up to speed on things. “One more disappeared, Grace. I don’t think you knew her, Patty Tomlinson?”
Grace shook her head.
“She’s a lesbian, put in here the same way you and I were, as an inmate. She was usually in the laundry detail with me. We’d iron and starch and work together a lot. She’s just… gone.” Maddy trailed off, obviously very troubled.
Grace pondered things for a short while. “It might be good for us to try to find out what is going on. Emily doesn’t know, and I doubt Pete would. I’ll talk to Jimbo about it.”
Maddy gasped. “Jimbo! That redneck jerk? He wouldn’t tell you the time of day!”
Grace smiled. “I think he’s starting to like me, a little. Even though sometimes I’d like to toss him off a cliff after what he did to me.” Maddy was shocked and appalled when Grace gave her a short rundown of her rape by Jimbo and then stunned to learn that he was actually being nicer to her as time went by.
The bus reached camp, and after a quick hand squeeze they each returned to their cots for their Happy Fun-time Bible Study Hours (as Grace referred to it).
Grace fell into a routine where she mostly dreaded Fridays and Sundays. Fridays because of the perpetually-pissed Ray; and Sundays because she had to sit through two sessions of the insanity spewed by Hayes. Time passed, and Grace wondered if they would really let her go when her time had been served.
As part of her Maintenance duties today, Grace was informed that she would be emptying wastebaskets, sweeping, mopping, and dusting various offices in the Admin building. She had plenty of time to complete this before her rendezvous with Jimbo in the garage.
She indulged her curiosity while cleaning, snooping through papers, drawers, and closets. Nothing much was found of interest until she prowled in a closet in a room that was obviously used to record video and audio. Apparently it was the room that Hayes used to do his weekly radio sermons. In the closet she found two video cameras — one was a huge beast, obviously from the last decade. One was still nestled in the box it came in, having been taken out perhaps once then put back.
Grace toyed with the idea of taking the little camera and filming some kind of expose of the camp. But, where would she hide the camera? And use it? How would she get the recording out to the world?
She decided to risk taking the camera and would hide it away somewhere in the garage.
Grace did find one other treasure while cleaning the offices, and she slipped it into her pocket before leaving. It was a large wide-tipped black Sharpie.
“Jimbo, I have a question for you.”
He nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Where do those who vanish end up? I know that people just vanish here, and that nobody will talk about it. Please, tell me?”
They had just finished what Grace, in the privacy of her own head, only, labeled “Jimbo’s Sexy Time”. She still had her lipstick on and was smoking. Jimbo had been watching her closely, she had noticed. She knew many men liked to watch a woman smoke, and it seemed that Jimbo might be one of them. One more weapon in my arsenal, I suppose?
Grace knew the answer was not a good one as Jimbo did not even look at her after she asked. Instead, he looked down at the floor and was silent, obviously debating what to tell her.
He sighed and said in a very low voice “Reverend Hayes gives all our, let’s say, non-consensual prisoners? Yeah, that’s a pretty good way to put it. He gives them a certain amount of time and chances to make things right with God, and come to Jesus, and repent. If they don’t do it in good time… well, that’s that. I can’t say no more.”
Grace puffed and though about that. It didn’t sound good.
“Jimbo, how does the Reverend decide that someone’s time is up?”
Jimbo shook his head. “I dunno, Grace, err, Carson. He’s never told me”
“VERY interesting slip there on his part!” Grace thought. She walked over to the garage bathroom to ditch the butt and considered that since Jimbo had started using her for ‘relief’ that he’d been treating her more like a woman and less like a ‘fag’ male. Of course, that’s a small step up for his type. Women, to men like him, are barely above ‘dog’ and ‘horse’ on the hierarchy. Still, it’s some improvement I guess.
“I wonder if I will ever be allowed to leave here?” she asked.
“Well, see, I don’t really know. You’re supposed to serve your 11-29 and get out but a lot of that is up to the County Liaison,” he answered.
“Oh. Well, who is that?”
Jimbo laughed. “I hate to say it, but it is Mrs. Watson!”
Grace groaned. “I’ll be here for 400 years!”
Jimbo nodded, still laughing but also giving her a sympathetic look. Grace started laughing, too. It all really was just too much.
Jimbo gave her a friendly wave and disappeared back into his quarters. She went ahead and lit another cigarette and sat on one of the stools. It was time to seriously think about how to get out of here. Beyond that, get out of here as a non-felon, without an outstanding arrest warrant as an escapee.
The next morning, as the recording of reveille played, and the inmates dressed, Grace had a small smile on her face. Pete didn’t appear, instead Grace was treated to an angry Mrs. Watson. “All of you, outside, and line up!”
The prisoners walked outside and lined up in two lines, facing an angry Mrs. Watson and a red-faced Reverend Hayes, along with two of the guards. None of them appeared to be happy.
“I want to know, right now, WHO DID THIS?” Hayes thundered.
The prisoners, including Grace, looked around innocently.
Hayes’ red face turned redder. “THIS!” He pointed at the various buildings. Each had a new label. The men’s barracks was labeled “AUSHCWITZ” in block capitals. The Mess Hall was labeled “HELL’s KITCHEN”.’ The women’s barracks had a new label as well “DACHAU.” The Admin building even had a new label: “ABANDON HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE.”
Written under the AUSCHWITZ caption was the phrase “ARBEIT MACHT FREI.” Grace glanced at Jay, who certainly got the reference. Quite a few of them were trying to hide smirks.
As nobody had stepped forward to claim responsibility, Hayes was apoplectic. “If someone doesn’t come forward or if I don’t hear who did this you will ALL suffer punishment!”
Grace decided to walk forward, but before she did Jay took two steps ahead of her. “I did it, Reverend Hayes.”
“Did you, now? Somehow I don’t believe you.”
“Nevertheless, it was me.”
Hayes didn’t look happy, as if he knew Jay was covering for someone. “Five demerits! We’ll see you at Discipline next week!” He stormed off, and Mrs. Watson marked his demerits in her book with a scowl, then stomped back to her office as the inmates all headed to breakfast.
Grace slid up next to Jay as they walked. “Jay… why? You knew that I did it. I was going to step forward and take my punishment before I let all of you face it for me.”
Jay grinned at her. “Grace, we all needed a laugh at their expense. It’s worth it to me. You can owe me one!”
After breakfast, Pete said he had a surprise for Grace.
“Oh, really? Let me guess, ok?”
“Sure, try to guess!”
“A horse-whipping!”
“Wha- NO!”
“Umm, ok. Water-boarding?”
“NO! C’mon Carson, be serious!”
“Oh, I am serious as a heart-attack, Petey. Ooh, I know. They’ll hook up a chain to each hand and foot, and each one hooked to a different car, and pull me apart!”
Pete gaped at her. “Where do you get such crazy ideas, Carson? No! Your first parole hearing is today! You’ve been here a month now!”
The ‘parole hearing’ was a farce, as she expected. But it was also a break in the monotony, so that was all right. Her ‘parole board’ was a grim sight: Reverend Hayes, Mrs. Watson, and good old Pete.
Grace bit on her tongue to stop from laughing at the absurdity.
Hayes started right off. “Well, Carson, one month here now for you! How about that!” He made it sound like the time just flies when such fun is to be had!
Grace fired right back. “Oh, I know! It seems like I just got here yesterday! I’ve been so busy and met so many new and interesting friends that I just plumb forgot how long I’d been here!”
That got her a smile from Pete, a glare from Mrs. Watson, and a confused look from Hayes.
Hayes shook his head and went on. “Ahem. The question before us is: have you rehabilitated yourself. You came to us as a cocaine-using fag, masquerading as a woman. Do you still consider yourself a woman, Carson?”
Grace discarded the first half-dozen responses that came to mind. Finally, she decided to just barrel ahead.
“I could go into a long discussion of gender dysphoria, XXY chromosomes, chemical estrogen enhancement caused by our polluted environment, and all that. But, it would get me nowhere. It would piss off at least two of you and I still wouldn’t get out of here. So, yeah, I am a woman, always have been. Always will be. I can’t change that. Oh, and we both know that the Sheriff planted that cocaine in my car so that I would be put here. You’re not fooling anyone.”
Mrs. Watson smirked. “You can throw all that satanic gobbledygook at us you want, you fag. We know what the truth is. You don’t have real breasts. You don’t have a vagina. You don’t have ovaries. You’re NOT a woman!”
Grace responded softly “Ah, I see. So if a woman has a hysterectomy and/or a mastectomy she is no longer a woman?”
Mrs. Watson glared and Hayes thundered “Don’t start trying to twist things around like your worldly father, Satan! If you want to continue to pretend you are a woman, then so be it. Parole will be denied!”
Mrs. Watson chimed in, “It should be obvious to you that you are a sickening fag after all we’ve done to help you see the light. We have opened the door but YOU have to walk through it!”
Back to Hayes, who nodded in agreement. “We unlock the door from the dark cage of sin but you have to come out into the light, my friend.”
And back to Mrs. Watson, who also nodded and then said, “We only want to save your soul!”
Grace felt almost as if she was watching a tennis match. This spiel seemed so pat and practiced she figured they’d used it many times before.
Hayes spoke up. “There is a way you can help yourself, Carson.”
Grace nodded and listened.
Hayes continued, “We do radio services that I tape on Saturday. We also sometimes do TV spots for the local cable companies. If you’d be willing to record a spot for radio and TV repenting and explaining how you have been duped by Satan into pretending to be a woman, seducing men by fooling them and turning them into sodomites, well then! That changes things, you see, and we could see fit to stamp an “OK” on your parole request. What do you say?”
Grace kept her temper, barely. “Let me see if I have this correct. You want me to get on television and tell the world that my entire life since high school has been one big lie, and that I was some kind of sick Satan-worshiping transvestite whore? And you have shown me the error of my ways?”
Both Mrs. Watson and Hayes saw that she had gotten it! They both smiled and Hayes said “Exactly, Carson! Oh, we’d type your confession and repentance up for you. All you’d need to do is read it and smile for the camera!”
Mrs. Watson nodded.
Grace didn’t hesitate, though she did reign in her temper. “No, I won’t do that. It would not only be a lie, but might actually hurt someone who has gender dysphoria like I do. I can’t do that.”
The smiles vanished as soon as she had started talking. Mrs. Watson’s expression went back to her usual ‘I just ate a lemon’ and Hayes glowered at her.
Hayes stood up. “Very well, if that is how you want it, Carson. Your parole is denied. Your next hearing will be in six months — IF you can avoid further demerits. Somehow, I don’t think you will.”
Mrs. Watson laughed. “I know he won’t!”
Mrs. Watson smirked and pointed at the door. Pete looked sad as he left with Grace.
Later that week she filled Emily in on her so-called ‘parole hearing’ and the offer that had been made.
“Emily, as badly as I want to get out of here, I can’t betray who I am and the road I’ve traveled. Not to mention, the thought of me on television telling some poor teenager who is gender dysphoric that they are just a ‘fag’ who has been tricked by Satan and must conform to gender norms? I could never live with myself if I did that!”
Emily hugged her and said, “I agree with you, Grace. That would be trading your self-respect for your freedom. Not a good bargain in my book.”
Amazing Grace - Chapter 5
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Chapter 5: But Now Am Found
And I'm telling you son,
Well, it ain't no fun
Staring straight down a forty-four.
- Gimme Three Steps, Lynyrd Skynyrd
After their ‘session’, Jimbo waited while Grace retrieved her cigarettes and shocked the hell out of her by offering her a light.
He’d been getting friendlier by the day and while she suspected that he was starting to see her as a woman now, what he said nearly made her faint.
“Listen, Grace. We need to talk.”
Grace nodded, quite beyond words already. What he said next took things further into unreality.
“I… I want to apologize to you. I’m sorry. Sorry for calling you names, sorry for hitting you, and sorry for... well, for raping you.”
What the hell do I say to that? ‘Oh, forget the rape, dear. No biggie!’
Grace stood holding her cigarette and looking down at Jimbo, who had sunk to the floor. “Well, Jimbo, umm, I appreciate you saying that.”
Jimbo started crying!
“Reverend Hayes and Phelps and all the rest… they’ve taught me that you are a freak. Everyone’s told me you’re sick and perverted and filthy. But, you’re not. You’re just a… woman. A woman that’s kinda weird, what with the cock and balls and ..”
Grace held up her hand. “You were doing fine, let’s go with that and not get into my weirdness, ok? I have a birth defect.”
Jimbo looked mortified and nodded.
She thought and smoked for a few while Jimbo sat there. Finally she said “Jimbo, I don’t know if I can forgive you right now. But, I will tell you this. I WILL bring this place down, one way or another. I hope you don’t get caught up in whatever happens.”
Jimbo nodded sadly. “I don’t demand it of you, Grace. I just wanted to apologize, and hope you can forgive me one day. My life has been a train wreck since…”
He fell silent.
“Since the fire?” Grace said softly.
“You heard about it, huh? Yeah, lost my wife and my little boy at the same time. Started drinking after that, drifting around doing odd jobs. Ended up here. I thought the Reverend was the answer but lately I been doubting that he is.”
Grace prompted him with “Why?”
“Well, it’s a lot of little things. The beatings. The people who just up and vanish. Oh, I asked ‘bout it and all I get from the Reverend on that was to hush up and not worry about it. He said if I ‘toe the line’ and ‘stay right with God’ I will be more involved in this place and will participate as a ‘Cleansing Scourge of God’ — whatever that means.”
Grace frowned, as this sounded like some kind of bizarre conspiracy that Jimbo was hovering on the edge of.
Jimbo went on. “See, I am supposed to hate you, Grace. Hate anyone who is like you or is a fag, or lezbo or whatever. And I’ve been taught it and soaked it up like a sponge. But it takes a lot out of me to hate all the time. And I keep thinking of Joanie, she never hated anybody. She would be plumb disgusted to see me now!”
Grace nodded, figuring Joanie was his deceased wife. She left and went back to her barracks and off to sleep.
Grace was coming back from the garden when she heard sobbing. She looked around but couldn’t find the source at first. Finally, she figured out where it was coming from: The Box.
She’d heard of it but never really looked closely or came near it. She had been told that the Box was where inmates were sometimes put in solitary confinement. She looked at it closely, disgust on her face. It was an aluminum cage, a four foot square cube with a padlocked door on one end and a few air-holes drilled randomly on all sides.
She glanced around to make sure the guards were not looking and then darted around to the back and crouched down. She tapped in the metal wall and someone inside whispered “Who’s there?”
“It’s Grace Carson. Who are you? Why did they put you in here?”
The voice replied, “Carla Finch — though they call me ‘Carl’. And I am in here for arguing with the Reverend in class, Grace.”
“Can I help you somehow, Carla? Do you know who has the key?”
Carla laughed. “No, no, Grace. I get out tomorrow. One of the guards has the key, and I don’t want you getting into any trouble on my account. You’re really becoming a legend around here, Grace. We all look up to you. Don’t mess up and end up in here like me, honey.”
The next few days passed uneventfully, with Grace dedicated to mostly surviving, keeping herself off the radar of Mrs. Watson, and collecting information. She really didn’t know what information she should be looking for, but she tried to make sure and see every square inch of the camp. She learned where the guards like to hang out at night. She noted every single camera in the camp and took pains to figure out the field of vision for each one.
She hoped that, one day, all of this data would be useful to her.
She’d just left the garage, after an almost tender session with Jimbo. I think he is getting a crush on me! She shuddered at that, but had to admit that with Jimbo, Pete, and Emily’s help this place was not getting to her as badly as it was before.
She was about to head back to her barracks when she saw a flash of light in the woods. She stopped and watched and saw it again, in two places. It looked like bobbing flashlights.
Throwing caution to the wind, she quietly followed the lights. It turned out to be a very long hike through a meandering path in the woods. After a long walk the lights ahead stopped and she heard muffled conversation. She’d never been this far from the camp proper before.
She came upon a forest clearing and noticed there were five people huddle around someone on the ground, spread out. She couldn’t identify the person, as their head was covered by a black bag. Two guards were on either side, each with a foot pressing down on the person’s left and right arms. Both guards had what looked like AK47 rifles. She spotted Hayes and Mrs. Watson and then noted Ray down at the foot of the unknown person. The last one she spotted should have been a surprise but wasn’t: the Sheriff.
She gasped and held her hand over her mouth in total horror as she saw what the person was laying on. It was a cross! Are they crucifying somebody! Oh no, surely that can’t be what is going on!
Hayes was ranting so she made a snap decision. She crept away, and then ran as fast as she could back to the Garage. She entered, saw no sign of Jimbo or anyone else, and retrieved the video camera. She checked the battery then hurried back as fast as she could quietly move.
I’ll get a recording of this. I can’t do anything about it, with them armed… but if I can get a video out I will bring this place down!
She slowly worked her way back in and found a good vantage point. Luckily someone had brought one of those electric lanterns with movable shades on each side, and had only opened the shade on the side facing the group. The glade would hide her — she hoped. And the light might be enough to record a decent video.
Hayes had stopped ranting and was holding a hammer in one hand and a metal spike in the other. He roared, “In the name of Jesus!” and set the spike at the wrist of his victim and began driving it in. Grace recorded it and zoomed in as much as possible, making sure to get Hayes, Watson, the Sheriff, and the faces of the guards as well in her recording.
His victim made muffled screams and his or her body jerked and thrashed while the guards held on tight. Under the hood, he or she must be gagged, she thought.
He drove the spike in the person’s other arm then handed the hammer to the Sheriff, who drove one into their feet. Grace fought nausea watching through the viewfinder of the camera. She zoomed in on the delighted grin of Mrs. Watson.
Hayes started spouting some more bible verses so she panned the camera around and saw that there were four other crosses in the clearing, all upright. One held a decomposing body. She recorded that then moved back to Hayes.
Hayes, Robinson, and the two guards drug the cross over to a certain spot and tilted it into the hole there. The victim was wearing the same clothes that Grace had on so she knew it was either a gay man or a transgendered woman like herself. She could hear the muffled screams of agony but couldn’t tell anything more.
Hayes and his flock stood there watching, and Hayes started preaching about damnation for all fags, eternity in Hell, and the usual things he spouted. Grace didn’t pay much attention; she just silently recorded it all.
The two guards who had helped secure the prisoner pulled out sleeping bags and looked to be getting ready to sleep here at the clearing, while Hayes and the rest were getting ready to go.
Grace had been planning to wait them out, then go over and try to help but with the guards and their automatic weapons remaining behind, this was going to be impossible.
Grace stopped recording, and made her way back to camp as fast as she could. On reaching the garage she hid the small video cassette in her hiding place where she kept her cigarettes. She then put the camera away inside the toolbox where she had been keeping it. She knew Mrs. Watson was a slow walker, so she lit a cigarette and tried to calm herself down.
Her hands were shaking but she was also thinking about getting that tape out to the world. Perhaps Emily could help? And, was there some way to get word out before that poor person died out there? She knew the office phones were not in service at night. She’d tried them.
What can I do? I can’t take on two people armed with automatic rifles! Jimbo and Pete, maybe? I don’t know if they’d help or not?
She walked back to the barracks, alternating between feeling horror and anger — and mind working furiously on some way to save that person on the cross.
“Mrs. Watson?” she asked, timidly.
“What do you want, Carson?” the woman snapped at her.
“I just wanted to ask where Maddy Seaver is? Her bunk was not slept in and she’s not anywhere around that I can find? Is she in solitary?”
Mrs. Watson replied “Marcus Seaver was paroled. He’s gone. And it’s none of your business anyway, Carson. Get to breakfast before you earn another demerit.”
“Another demerit?” Grace said.
The woman smiled hatefully as she wrote in her book. "You earned one by putting your nose where it don’t belong. Now, get out of here!”
Grace walked out of the building, numb. She knew who that unknown person being crucified was, now. She knew where people vanished to. She knew exactly what a ‘Scourge of God’ did. Tears rolled down her face as she stumbled along towards the Mess Hall. She ran into Pete, while even more furiously trying to think of a way to rescue Maddy.
“Grace, umm, Carson. What’s wrong? Why are you crying? What is it?”
Grace shook her head and continued crying as they entered. She was spotted by Emily and the woman rushed out and escorted Grace back into the rear of the kitchen.
“Grace, honey, what is wrong?”
Grace began sobbing. “They… they c-crucified her! Those sons of bitches are m-murdering my best friend!”
Emily was lost for what to say or do. “Grace, what do you mean? Are you talking about Maddy?”
“Y-yes. I saw them do it. I saw the whole thing. Those murdering b-bastards!”
“Oh honey!” Emily grabbed Grace into her arms as Grace bawled her eyes out.
After Grace had cried herself out, Emily said “Honey we have to get you out of here, somehow. This has to be ended. Maybe I could drive to the nearest State Police and bring them back here?”
Grace stopped crying. “No, Emily, we have to rescue Maddy before it is too late.”
Emily nodded. “How can I help?”
Grace told her. Emily nodded and they both headed out.
Grace and Emily marched into Jimbo’s quarters, surprising him. Jimbo was holding a picture of a beautiful woman with a grinning boy in her arms. She was herself surprised to see a half-empty bottled of vodka sitting beside him and an empty glass. He was not drunk but was not far from it.
“Jimbo! You have a key to most everything here, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah, I’m in charge of Maintenance and-“
“Give me the key to the basement of the Mess Hall, please.”
“Uh, Grace, you could get in a lot of trouble going down there, cause I think that is where they keep -“
“I am pretty sure they keep weapons there. Please. Give me the key, now.”
Jimbo looked troubled. “Grace... murder is a sin. I mean, it’s just wrong. I know they are hurting you and I’ve hurt you but I can’t let you go on some shooting rampage, ya know?”
Grace took a deep breath. “Jimbo, I do not plan to murder anyone. But... you have to understand something. I know where the people who vanish go, now.”
Jimbo looked surprised. “Where?”
“These sick fucks are crucifying them in the woods!” Grace nearly screamed it out.
“W-what? Surely you must be mistaken, Reverend Hayes would never-“
“I SAW IT HAPPEN!”
“Who… who was there, doing it?”
“My favorite people from here in camp, of course! Hayes. Mrs. Watson. Some of the guards. Oh, and yeah, your fine Sheriff as well!”
“The Reverend was there?”
“That sick son of a bitch was driving the nails into Maddy’s wrists!”
Jimbo sat in horror as his world unraveled.
Finally, he reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a keyring. He held it out to Grace. “Here. I’ll come along. This ain’t right.”
Grace took the key and squeezed Jimbo’s shoulder with her free hand. “I promise you, I won’t murder anyone, Jimbo. I will defend myself. But, this shit ends right now, one way or another. And we are going to save my best friend.”
Grace had noticed, in the two months she’d been here, that the lower level of the kitchen-slash-mess hall was inaccessible during her prowling. There was a door in the kitchen that presumably led downstairs but it had a deadbolt and she’d never seen it opened even once. A trash can was kept in front of it and she doubted that it was very much trafficked at all.
Outside the building, to the rear, was a door that led directly into the basement but it, too, was dead bolted. Grace had been in every building in the camp, with and without official approval — save for this one.
She slipped up to the outside door and tried the key. It worked! Grace opened the door carefully and went inside, followed by Jimbo, and Emily. She found a light switch and, not noting any windows, risked flipping it on.
What she found didn’t surprise her, after what she’d seen in the hands of the guards in the clearing. There were racks of rifles, shotguns, and pistols. Metal tins and cardboard boxes lined a shelving unit, labeled in various calibers of ammunition. Jimbo whistled in shock at how much was stockpiled.
Grace sat down to think for a moment. After spotting a hand truck, she knew just what to do. She pulled aside several boxes of 7.62 mm ammunition and then got Jimbo to help load all of the rest onto the hand truck. She also went down the racks, making sure that none of the weapons were loaded.
She shut off the light, peeked outside, then rolled her load of ammo to the woods. A quick search found a good hiding place and soon she and Emily had it buried under brush and leaves. The empty hand truck was returned to the weapons storage. She returned to the room to find Jimbo had picked out two AK-47s and a 9MM pistol. He handed the pistol to Emily and raised an eyebrow at Grace and offered an AK. “Do you know how to shoot this, Grace?”
Grace smiled grimly and nodded, and took the rifle.
Together, the three of them followed the trail back to the clearing. Jimbo told Emily to hang back as their backup, and she agreed and slid behind a tree.
Grace and Jimbo slowly crept up on the guards. Both seemed to be asleep. Jimbo signaled and moved on one guard while Grace snuck up to the other one. Within minutes both guards were tied up tightly and gagged.
Jimbo whistled for Emily and they all three rushed to the cross. After much straining they pulled it down and laid it flat and Grace untied the black cloth bag that was over the victim’s head.
It was indeed Maddy.
Grace wanted to break down crying but she forced herself to remain calm. Maddy’s face was bone white and she was not conscious. Her skin was icy to the touch, and when Grace found her pulse it was weak and rapid.
Jimbo pointed to Maddy’s feet and the blood staining the base of the cross. “She’s lost a lot of blood, Grace. I’m sorry but I don’t think-“
“NO! We are going to save her, Jimbo!”
Jimbo looked troubled but nodded in agreement. He worked on one side, Grace the other, removing the nails from Maddy’s wrists. Her lack of reaction to the operation told Grace that she was nearly gone. Emily ripped one of the guard’s shirts and bandaged both of Maddy’s wrists while Jimbo and Grace got the nail out of her feet. “Guttering nails,” Jimbo remarked.
Maddy began to hyperventilate and convulse. Grace and Emily held her tightly while Jimbo stood and shook his head sadly. He’d seen death before, and he knew it was here. Within a minute, she was gone.
Grace held her AK in shaky hands, barrel pressed against the forehead of a crying guard. He was still gagged, but begging for mercy, tears pouring from his eyes.
Emily spoke softly. “Grace, don’t do it, honey. It would be murder.”
Her hands kept shaking as Grace answered, “Emily I am doing all that I can not to pull this trigger, and then go back to camp and fill quite a few people with bullets. These murdering, twisted fucks killed Maddy!”
“You’re not like that, Grace, neither am I. We’d both shoot them in the act of something this vile, but in cold blood like this? No.” Emily laid a hand on Grace’s shoulder.
Grace pulled away from the guard and dropped to the ground sobbing. Emily held her and made soothing sounds and rocked her gently back and forth. Jimbo kept an eye on the guards and said nothing.
After a while, Grace rose and walked over to Jimbo. “Jimbo, would you do me a favor?”
“Sure, Grace. What do you want me to do?”
“March these two back to your garage, and tie them up there. I’ll let the police handle them, I suppose.” Grace didn’t look happy about it, but she knew this was the right thing to do.
“I’ll do it, Grace. I’m sorry about your friend. What are you going to do now?”
She glanced at Emily, then back at Jimbo. “I am bringing these sorry fucks to justice.”
Grace snuck back in to the barracks and headed straight for Jay’s cot. Looking around, she gently nudged him awake. He let out a soft cry — nobody in this hellhole slept soundly — and asked her what was wrong.
Whispering furiously, she pointed at the floor to her stolen firearms, told him what went on in the woods, and asked if he would join her in taking this place down. He smiled at her and nodded. “I was hoping this day would come, Grace. I’ll be glad to help in any way I can.”
“Thank you, Jay. Have you ever fired an AK-47?”
“No, but I’ve fired AR-15s, shotguns, and other types of rifle. I’ll do fine. What about you?”
Grace grinned. “In my previous gender I worked one summer at a rifle range. Don’t worry about me!”
She started to outline her plan when a flashlight snapped on in her face. She couldn’t see who it was until she heard a pleased voice say “Caught you, you miserable fag. Running around at night after curfew! Where did you steal the flashlight? You are getting twenty demerits this time! I can’t wait to see the whipping you are gonna get for this!” Mrs. Watson was ecstatic to finally bust Grace.
Grace didn’t look scared, or even particularly worried. She scooped up one of the rifles and stood, swinging the barrel around to point right between Mrs. Watson’s eyes.
The woman looked horror-struck. “Where... where did you get that gun?”
“It’s a rifle, not a gun, you retarded hateful bat. Now, let’s head to your office. One word or wrong move and I WILL shoot you. Count on that.”
Jay giggled and picked up his own AK, checked the change-lever, and looked at Grace.
“Set it all the way down, to semi-auto. I couldn’t bring a lot of ammo.”
He nodded and they marched Mrs. Watson into her office, Jay bringing up the rear and closing the door.
Mrs. Watson started to speak and received the butt of Grace’s AK upside her head. “I told you, no talking! You are a despicable excuse for a human being. By all rights you should be the one crucified, not Maddy.”
Mrs. Watson’s eyes got bigger.
“Oh, yes, I know. I was there, you piece of shit. I saw what you and that fat fuck Hayes did to my friend.”
The woman looked terrified. Grace looked around and her eyes settling on a roll of duct tape. “Perfect! Jay, let’s tape her to her chair, and be liberal with the tape. I don’t want her going anywhere tonight.”
Soon they had her completely immobilized. Jay looked at Grace. “Now what, Grace?”
Grace smiled grimly. “Now, we get the head of this serpent.”
Grace led Jay across the compound, flitting from building to building in the shadows. She really did not want to shoot anyone or start a fire-fight. They went on past the Admin building to a small gate with one guard. She pantomimed what she wanted and Jay nodded and headed toward the guard. He walked up slowly and asked the guard a question while Grace slipped behind.
Just as the guard started to answer, Grace’s AK crashed into his head and he went down like a sack of flour. She pulled the keys off his belt and after a few false tries they had the little gate open.
They walked up the path to the ‘parsonage’, as Hayes called it. It was a palatial mansion, in reality. It was set back nearly a half-mile from the camp. That played into Grace’s plans well. If things got chaotic and there was shooting she didn’t want the guards alarmed.
She motioned Jay to head to the back while she went to the front door. She tried the door but it was locked, so she rang the doorbell.
She kept ringing it until she heard motion in the house and moved to the side of the door, so she wouldn’t be seen. She wanted him to open the door and come out.
Hayes opened the door and looked out, a puzzled expression on his face. Unfortunately he had a pistol in his hand, but Grace didn’t see it until she’d already stepped into his sight. His eyes widened and he started to raise the pistol.
Without hesitation, Grace fired three rounds into his legs, shattering one of his kneecaps. He dropped the pistol and screamed, and she scooped it up and put it in her pocket. She then dragged the howling Hayes inside and shut the door.
Thirty minutes later found Grace relaxing in a recliner, smoking a cigarette and watching Hayes, who sat on the sofa, tied up in rope they’d found in his garage. She had hastily bandaged his legs to stop the bleeding.
Jay stood beside her, cradling the AK he’d brought. “Now what, Grace? I have to admit, you throw a hell of a party, girl!”
Grace giggled. “Oh, but there’s other guests coming to this party, Jay. I need you to go back to camp and bring them, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“Anything for you, doll! Who did you have in mind?”
Grace told him, and he nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll be back with them as quick as I can!”
“Be careful and watch out for the guards, Jay. I don’t want you hurt.”
She ground her finished cigarette out in the rich pile carpet with her foot while Hayes just glared at her.
“Bet that knees hurts, doesn’t it, Jonny-Boy?” She pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit up, actually enjoying the moment.
“You will PAY for this, you Satan-worshiping fag! I’ll see you BURN for this!”
He would have gone on but Grace slapped a strip of duct tape over his mouth. “Ya know, Jonny, this stuff is just too handy! Ah, so much better. They say that silence is golden, don’t they? And I have heard enough of your sick sermonizing to last me a lifetime!”
She sat back down and looked at him. “So, Jon-Boy, crucified anyone lately?” She said it lightly but her face was anything but light. His eyes grew wide.
“Ah, yes. You have, haven’t you? Yeah, I saw it all you know. Your fat ass is going to prison, Jonny. Probably for life. If there’s any justice at all in this world, you will have a huge well-hung cellmate named Tyrone who will introduce you to the joy of sodomy! You like to talk about it so much; it is high time you did some… research… on the subject.”
Grace was enjoying watching his eyes as she talked. He looked terrified, then angry, then terrified again.
She managed to smoke three more cigarettes before Jay reappeared with her guest list in tow. Emily took the scene in, then rushed over to Grace and hugged her tightly. “Oh, Grace, thank God you are alright! And look what you’ve done! You’re amazing!” Grace grinned at her friend and offered her a cigarette, which Emily eagerly took.
Pete looked dumbstruck. “Grace… you shot the Reverend? You tied him up? And Mrs. Watson? I don’t… I don’t understand?”
The aforementioned Mrs. Watson was shoved onto the sofa beside Hayes.
“Petey… they’ve been murdering people in the woods. Crucifying them, to be precise. They killed Maddy, and they should consider themselves lucky they are still breathing. I am ending the murdering, and this terrible death camp, now.”
Pete’s eyes became huge and his mouth formed an ‘O’ of horror. “They were KILLING people?! Oh My God!” He sat down in a chair, stunned.
Her fourth guest lumbered into the room, not drunk but not feeling too much pain either. Jimbo looked around and started laughing. “Grace. You’re a crazy bitch, ya know that? Can’t believe you got Hayes!”
Grace grinned and said “Oh, I am not done, yet. How are your two guests?”
Jimbo kept laughing and sat down on the arm of the sofa, away from Hayes and his glaring flunky. “Oh, they are a bit tied up. Well, more than a bit. They won’t be going anywhere for a long time. So, what now? You’ve got the Bad Guys, don’t you?”
Jay spoke up “Yeah, Grace, what now? Do we make our getaway?”
Grace shook her head. “Nope. We would just end up chased by the Sheriff and even the State Cops. He’d put out an APB on us as murderers or drug dealers or who knows what. No, my plan hasn’t come to fruition, yet.”
They all stared at her, waiting. She paused dramatically, lit a cigarette, and blew smoke into Mrs. Watson’s face. “Kids, we’re all going to church!”
Emily said “What, you mean right now?”
Grace giggled. “No, silly, we are going in the morning. Right now, I think we should enjoy the good Reverend’s hospitality. We can whip up a nice breakfast and have some fun before the sermon.”
Pete looked puzzled. “You’re going to let him preach?”
That set Grace giggling even more. “Oh, Petey you are a trip. No, tomorrow’s sermon will be delivered by Reverend Grace Carson.”
Grace and Emily went in the huge kitchen to work on a meal for them all. She had a thought and asked Emily “Did you get Sarah to cover for you?”
Emily nodded. “Yes, she usually fills in for me at least two Sundays a month, and this happens to be one of them. So, nobody should notice a thing wrong.”
Emily and Grace cooked a large meal and served it just before sunrise. Emily had wanted Grace to rest and let her cook alone but Grace insisted on helping. “It takes my mind off things. I need to stay busy.”
The food was delicious, and they all enjoyed the meal. Grace became melancholy a few times thinking about Maddy, but Emily stayed close and kept an eye on her. After eating, the women enjoyed cigarettes and blowing smoke into Watson and Hayes faces while chatting.
“Emily, when I am done here this camp is history. I hope that you can find a new job.”
“Don’t worry about that, Grace dear. Let’s just get through this and come out safe and I will be fine.”
After resting, Grace went prowling until she found the treasure she was after: Hayes cell phone. She’d seen him talking on it while roaring into camp in his SUV many times. And, wonder of wonders, it had service here at his home! She made herself comfortable at his desk and dialed ‘Long Distance Information’.
She ended up making many phone calls until she tracked down the people she was looking for. She smoked and talked for almost an hour, and when she was done, she hung up with a smile.
In the spacious garage was the 2004 Cadillac Escalade Platinum SUV that Hayes used for day-to-day running about. Next to it was a Porsche. Grace rolled her eyes.
“It seems the Lord takes good care of murdering douchebags, doesn’t He? Or, maybe, just maybe, someone has been living it up on the donations of people who ought to know better?”
Hayes was still groaning but he shot her a venomous look. “You… filthy… fag. You won’t get away with this. The Sheriff works… for me! He will take you down and send you to Hell where you belong!”
“Yeah, yeah. Heard all of your shit way too many times, Jon-Boy. I’m done with you, you know. So kindly shut the fuck up. On second thought, I don’t want to chance hearing any more of your hate, so…” She slapped a fresh strip of tape over his mouth. She'd tried to be nice and let him be free of the tape. Shows me what good impulses will do for me with this particular idiot!
They pushed Hayes and Mrs. Watson into the rear of the Escalade. Jimbo taped their wrists behind their backs as a final touch.
They all got in the car, and Jimbo drove. Grace and Emily smoked while Pete and Jay kept an eye on their ‘guests’ in the rear from the second row of seats.
Services started at 10:30 AM sharp, so Grace timed it so that they would arrive about five minutes late to the church. She had Jimbo pull up to the front of the church, first. She, Emily, and Jimbo got out. Jay and Pete remained in the car with their cargo.
“Ok, Emily, do your song and dance, honey. Just get him out here and we’ll do the rest.”
Emily nodded and headed into the church. After a few minutes she came back out, leading the Sheriff. At the sight of two rifles pointed at him he meekly surrendered his gun.
Grace addressed her group. “All right, Emily didn’t see anyone else armed, and you all are certain the Sheriff is usually the only armed person at church?”
Everyone agreed and Grace decided it was time for the sermon. They all piled in the Escalade, save for Jimbo and Emily, who remained at the entrance. Grace drove around to the back entrance and parked in the Reverend’s parking space. She and Jay entered by the back door, rifles in hand.
Grace had taken the opportunity to put on makeup and lipstick at the Parsonage before they headed out. She’d fluffed her hair out somewhat, though it was still much too short to suit her. She figured she looked the best she could, considering the circumstances.
Emily shocked her by pulling out a dress, one of several she found in a guest room. It fit decently, so Grace decided to wear it. After all, she was going to church, shouldn’t she dress up?
She walked through a short hallway and came to the door that opened to the side of the pulpit area. After a glance at Jay, who had Hayes in hand, she grabbed Mrs. Watson and propelled her forward. “Put all the slime in the same bucket” she had said.
There were gasps and people began to stand up as the little procession walked out the door and into sight. Grace lifted her AK and fired a few rounds into the ceiling and yelled “Quiet! And SIT DOWN!”
The congregation all dropped back into their seats.
Jay dumped Hayes beside the podium and Grace shoved Mrs. Watson towards the crowd. The inmates on the front four rows were in total shock. Grace eyed them all and winked at them, trying to reassure them.
She stepped up to the podium and flipped the microphone amplifier to “ON.”
Her first words were direct and to the point. “I have a few things to say. I’d appreciate not being interrupted, and no, you can’t leave. You’re a captive audience, indeed!”
She addressed her fellow inmates first. “As of today you are all free men and women. You don’t have to put up with this garbage any longer.” She looked back out to the rest and delivered her sermon.
Amazing Grace - Chapter 6 - Final
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Chapter 6: Was Blind, But Now I See
“Now there is a final reason I think that Jesus says, "Love your enemies." It is this: that love has within it a redemptive power. And there is a power there that eventually transforms individuals. Just keep being friendly to that person. Just keep loving them, and they can’t stand it too long. Oh, they react in many ways in the beginning. They react with guilt feelings, and sometimes they’ll hate you a little more at that transition period, but just keep loving them. And by the power of your love they will break down under the load. That’s love, you see. It is redemptive, and this is why Jesus says love. There’s something about love that builds up and is creative. There is something about hate that tears down and is destructive. So love your enemies.” — Martin Luther King, Jr.
“You know, it occurred to me to burn this hate-filled house of horror down with all of you in it. You deserve no less. Burn the camp down, too. Shoot the guards, shoot that hate-filled broken bitch there, and blow Hayes away. But, that is the kind of thing that you people do. I am not like you. I don’t want to be like you. I come from a different place, you see. I believe in love, honor, and doing unto others as you’d like them to do unto you.”
She heard several whispered comments and caught the word “fag” several times. Grace frowned, raised the AK up to the ceiling and fired a three-round burst. Things got very quiet again after the shrieks from the women. Mrs. Watson was glaring at her with a face full of pure hatred.
“Kindly shut the fuck up while I am talking or I will be quite happy to shoot some of you losers. I’m quite good with guns; I worked at a shooting range once, you know.”
Grace smiled and nodded as the room went dead silent. “That’s better. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, your despicable hate-filled existence. You hate gays, lesbians, and transgendered people. You don’t even know why! You fear us, loathe us, wish us dead, even murder us! All because we are different from you.”
She paused and lit a cigarette, smirking at the audible sniffs and glares from her audience, and then continued. “My best friend in the world was dragged in here and turned into a slave by you people. When she wouldn’t conform, what did you do? You murdered her. You didn’t just shoot her, oh no, you fucking crucified her!“
She bit back a sob and took a deep breath, then glared at the entire congregation and had to mentally calm herself before continuing. They had no idea how close to just blowing every one of them away she really was.
“Most of you people knew what was going on, I am sure!” She pointed at Mrs. Owen. “And some of you deserve to be riding a cross a lot more than Maddy did. Like Mrs. Owen here. You are filled with hatred and not an ounce of compassion. You deserve death far more than my friend did!” Mrs. Owen glared at Grace but didn't respond.
“You are all worthless scum! You knew what was going on in that Camp-From-Hell, and yet you turned a blind eye to it. You are no better than the Germans who lived near the concentration camps and ignored the horrible things going on. No better!” She slapped the podium hard, making the people jump.
“I’ve heard of the ‘banality of evil’, where your average person will embrace doing despicable things to other human beings just because some figure in authority told them to do it. The Nazis who slaughtered eleven million people said that they were merely following orders. You are no different! You let this fat hypocritical fuck that calls himself a ‘reverend’ order your life as he pleased and murder people just for being different!” She kicked Hayes in the crotch and smirked at his wheeze and moaning.
“You all came together under this pig for one reason: hate! Have any of you ever actually READ A BIBLE?! Jesus was all about love and caring for other people and doing unto others. This slime-ball laying here perverted the word of Jesus! And you all followed him! If the Bible is true, don’t you think that Hayes and those of you who followed him are in for it with the Big Guy?”
“Let me share something with you pathetic cretins. Gay, lesbian, and transgendered people are just that: people. None of us asked to be as we are. We just are. But Hayes cherry-picks a few phrases from the Bible and suddenly we deserve death?! I can’t heap enough condemnation upon this pile of shit here. But you people! You should have known better. What is the matter with you all?”
“I wish I could just mow your pathetic bodies down as you deserve; but as I said before, I am not like you. I cherish human life, dignity, and love, and I cannot lower myself down to your level.”
Her eyes bored a hole into each and every one of them. “Ignorance can be fixed, you know. But stupidity is terminal! And you are some of the stupidest people I’ve ever had the misfortune to interact with!”
“So, I am going to do the worst thing that I can do to you worthless hate-filled idiots. I am going to leave you to live your shitty lives. Live with the knowledge of all the murders you were a part of. The lives you helped ruin through your hate and your bigotry. Keep wallowing in your self-righteous bullshit. Waste your lives on hate and idiocy all that you wish. Karma is a bitch, and I hope that each and every one of you finds that out. The rest of our country will move on without you.”
She looked around at the people in the room and didn’t see much in the way of contrition or even sadness over what they’d condoned and been part of. They mostly stared at her with either fear or hatred. She wasn’t particularly surprised to not find any remorse in this bunch. Hayes chose his flock well.
Grace started to step away from the podium but leaned back to the microphone one last time. “Oh, I’d advise all of you very strongly to not show your face outside the door of this place until we are long gone. If any of us sees your ass outside, we will shoot to kill. Fuck you all, and goodbye.”
She flicked her cigarette butt at Hayes and marched down the aisle with Jay right behind her. The Sheriff started to rise when she reached his pew but her rifle swung towards him and he sat back down. He said “You know you won’t get away for long. You’ll be tracked down and go to prison or end up shot. You’re armed and dangerous. You already shot the Reverend.”
Grace didn’t trust herself to respond, fearing she’d become violent. And while holding this rifle that would be a bad thing so she just walked on.
They reached the doors and went out, and she pointed Jay at the old F-150. He nodded, and as they had discussed, he started it and ran it up the steps tight against the doors, barricading the congregation inside.
Luckily for Grace, Hayes had decided that windows would let ‘worldly distractions’ into his church and mess with his captive audience. So, there were no windows. Just the front double-doors and the back door she’d entered by. That door was barricaded shut now, as well.
“That should hold them for a while!”
Emily, Jimbo, and Pete walked away from the church entrance and over to Grace and Jay. Emily smiled. “We heard every word, dear. That was inspiring!”
Jimbo grinned and nodded. “I hope I was just ignorant and not stupid, Grace. I can’t make up for my hate and for…”
Grace shook her head. “Jimbo, the worst you did to me pales beside their overall hatred and bigotry. You changed once you got to know me. You tried to make up for it. That counts a lot, with me.”
Pete asked “What now, Grace?”
“Now, we wait a little while.”
Hours passed, and Grace amused herself by plunking a shot into the roof of the church anytime she heard sounds of someone trying to open the doors. Things always got quiet after that.
Eventually a helicopter appeared and circled down in a field near the church and landed. It was a State Police helicopter. Three men hopped out and walked over to Grace and her motley crew.
“Grace Carson?” the man in aviator sunglasses, suit and tie, and a badge in hand said. Grace nodded. “I’m Special Agent Roy Jackson.” He gestured to the black man at his right. “This is Agent Cal Stevens, ATF.” He gestured left. “This is John Calhoun, Deputy Attorney General.”
They all shook hands with Grace. “So, where are our problem children that you told us about, Grace?”
She smiled and gestured at the church. “They’re in there, just waiting for you guys!”
Grace introduced her group and then said “Emily, give Agent Jackson the tape, please.” Emily pulled out the videotape that Emily had been holding for her.
“That’s the tape I told you of on the phone. I recorded their leaders crucifying my best friend. There’s a clearing deep in the woods where you will find the crosses, a few corpses, and unless I am much mistaken several dozen graves.”
“We’ll make sure justice is served here, Grace. Would all of you be willing to testify in court as to the events here?”
“Damned right we will,” Jimbo answered. Pete nodded, Jay said “Try and stop me.”
Emily said “I have a duty to testify. You just tell me when and where.”
Grace grinned. “I don’t think you will have any problems getting us to talk about this mess, Agent.”
“I am so glad to see you guys!” Grace said. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get anyone to come. The local Sheriff was up to his ears in it, as was his deputies.”
“That’s one of our functions, Grace,” Stevens spoke up. “When the local LEOs are knee-deep in the conspiracy and are in there committing crimes hand-in-hand with the bad guys; the Feds are here to come in and clean house.”
Jackson added “Grace, camps like this have sprung up all over the Midwest and South. In most cases, they stay on the edge of the law and we can’t do anything about it. I am sorry for the loss of your friend. But let me assure you that this particular camp and the crazies who were running it are toast.”
Police and ATF cars and vans began pulling in and discharging officers armed and in full gear. The agents left Grace and her friends and began directing their new arrivals to the church. One agent moved the pickup truck and agents moved in, pistols drawn. Soon, Hayes was led out by two agents. Mrs. Watson and the Sheriff followed.
Grace was pleased to see handcuffs on the unholy trio.
The agents in charge had vanished into an FBI van but soon Agent Stevens came back to Grace. “We watched the tape you provided, Grace. These are some sick people. We’ll get a forensics team into those woods and recover the bodies. I’ll need everyone’s contact information. We will set up a debriefing in a few days with each of you at your convenience.”
Grace nodded and the agent headed back to his team.
“Emily, I am exhausted. I guess I could go to the motel if you’d give me a ride?”
Emily snorted. “You’re coming to my house, Grace Carson. Where you will be pampered and fussed over within an inch of your life!”
Grace looked at Jimbo and Pete and Jay. “What about you guys?”
Jimbo answered, “They can hang out with me at my uncle’s house if they want. He has spare bedrooms.”
The two men looked happy with that arrangement, so Grace smiled and thanked Jimbo.
“I’ll see you all later I am sure. Thank you for helping put an end to this madness.”
Epilogue
It is not tolerable, it is not possible, that from so much death, so much sacrifice and ruin, so much heroism, a greater and better humanity shall not emerge. - Charles de Gaulle
The day was gorgeous with blue skies and bright sunshine. Flowers decorated many of the plots. It truly was a beautiful cemetery.
Grace walked up to the headstone and stood looking at it. It was simple and brought her to tears as she read it.
b. 1964 d. 2004
Gone, but not forgotten
In her hand was a canvas shopping bag. She pulled a quilt out and spread it by the headstone. She then pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay and a wine glass. She grabbed the corkscrew from her purse and opened the wine, then poured herself a glass. Lastly, she lit one of her cigarettes, the 120mm version of Virginia Slims that Maddy always preferred. She sat down on the quilt, tailor-fashion.
“I won’t ever forget you. Every time I smoke one of these I’ll remember you — which will be often! And I will always keep a bottle of this stuff around in your memory as well.”
She took a sip and continued. “You always encouraged me to get my surgery, something you never managed to save up for but wanted to? Well, I am going to do it, Maddy. I hope that you will be proud of me!”
She took the bottle of wine and turned it upside down over Maddy’s grave. “You’d say I just wasted good wine, but I feel that somehow, somewhere, you know that I am sharing your favorite wine with you.”
She sat silently for a while, smoking and sipping the wine. Her thoughts touched on many happy times with Maddy.
“I’ve been busy since getting out of that hellhole. I was accepted at a job out in California, in Silicon Valley! With a good income, and they will help pay for my GRS. I just wish you could be here to share all this with me, honey.”
Grace grimaced and said softly, “You were always a leader, Maddy. I was always the one who stayed in the background and never ever called attention to myself. I had to become a leader, of sorts, to get through this. I had to step forward and make things happen. I’d like to think I followed your examples.”
“All of the inner circle from that horrible place are in jail, now. Hayes will never walk well again. I can’t say I am sorry for that. The Sheriff and Judge are doing time, as well. I hope you can rest in peace, knowing that the evil people who did this to you are in jail. I suppose you could call it justice.”
“I wanted to shoot them Maddy! I wanted to kill them so badly for what they did to you! But, I just couldn’t bring myself to murder. I know that you’d understand and agree with me. We aren’t like them, and we never wanted to become like them, either.”
“I could have killed them, yes. And yes I hate them with every fiber of my being. But, I couldn’t kill them for that hate.”
“I owe so much to you. I am the person I am today because of your love and support. I hope that you knew.”
She tipped the glass and drained the wine inside, then set the glass on Maddy’s headstone.
“I’m going to be leaving now, hon. I’ve got to finish packing and get started moving. I will miss you so much! Goodbye, and know that I loved you, my dearest friend!”
She stood, picked up the quilt and put it away. She decided to leave the wine bottle, standing beside the glass.
The End.
Afterword
I appreciate all comments made and any yet to be made, and of course the Kudos you’ve awarded this story. I hope this story was not too much of a “downer” for this site. I certainly know that it would be a poor fit at some of the other TG sites!
I wrote this story because I felt it needed to be written. Grace’s story is not at all fanciful, magical, or unbelievable. I love fantasy, but Grace’s story just popped out. It is the 21st Century, and we still have people around like Reverend Hayes, Mrs. Watson, et al. Sad, isn’t it?
But, that IS balanced with people like Emily, Pete, Maddy, and Grace herself. In the end, I do believe that love, honor, and respect will win out against hatred.
J.S.
Getting What He Deserved
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Author's note: After the discussion here about certain stories and websites, I could not stop myself! Enjoy! Apologies if this offends anyone, as my sense of humor can be odd at times.
Karla pulled her black stockings the rest of the way up and attached the garter straps. She was feeling so slutty and horny right now, even though the crumpled Kleenex in the wastebasket beside her was freshly soaked from her excitement minutes earlier.
This was it! This was the day she took her erotic dreams and turned them into reality. When Sheila came home, the fur would fly, and she would get to kneel to her wife as a sissy at last. She’d spent over a year obsessing over the upcoming moment and had every detail planned out perfectly.
Karla’s male “clitty” became stiffer as she pictured Sheila bringing home studs to satisfy her urge for a real man, while Karla would kneel by the bed and watch, her fluffing duties done. After the hot sex that left Sheila panting, Sheila would snap her fingers and Karla would eat the cream pie and whimper as Sheila and her stud laughed. Part of Karla was horrified at this scenario but part craved it, and Karla was letting that part of her run the show today.
Karla checked her look in the mirror again, wanting to make sure she looked extra slutty and more like a whore than a typical woman would. Her makeup was more suited for the stage or a dark nightclub than for mid-morning at home, but Karla liked that look.
She had spent countless hours on end reading sissification stories, much time in chat rooms talking to Dominant Mistresses, and much time talking to other sissies. All sources assured her that her wife would either divorce him or, much more likely, take charge and turn her into the sissy slut her fantasies wanted her to be.
Everyone knew that most women were evil at heart, and only needed a good push to let their evil inner nature rise to the surface and show their husband who is boss. Karla nodded to herself. She knew that meeting Karla would push Sheila to bring out her inner Dominant at last.
She heard the door downstairs open and she actually trembled for a moment. Then she opened a sissy site she had bookmarked so that Sheila could view the evidence after catching her. She waited as she heard Sheila ascend the stairs.
Karla’s wife came into the room and stopped. “Karl, I got home early and —“She seemed at a total loss for words. “Halloween is still six months away, dear. But you look… interesting!” She smiled and began to take off her work clothes. At thirty, Sheila was still extremely sexy and looked much younger and always dressed elegantly.
“Err, I can explain, Sheila! It’s not what it looks like, err, but it is um…” Karla was already losing track of what to say, due to Sheila not being “on script.”
Sheila shrugged as she turned around and had Karla unhook her bra. “Honey I really don’t care what it looks like, as long as you are having fun then what’s the harm?”
This was going all wrong! Karla sputtered. “Aren’t you mad? Isn’t this uh, a betrayal of our marriage, err, you know… you thought you married a man? But now you learn he’s a sissy and you need to punish him or something? And, and… his cock is too small?”
Sheila laughed, long and hard. “Oh honey you are not a sissy. And don’t you think I noticed how effeminate you are when we started dating? Do you think I never noticed you liked to cross-dress in secret from time to time? And your cock is just right.”
She took his hands in hers. “Sweetheart, it doesn’t bother me, honestly. It makes you happy, right? It’s a fantasy of yours, I know this. It’s okay! Enjoy it, honey!”
“But, but… don’t you need to call your friends and tell them about your useless sissy husband”?” Karla asked, forlornly.
Sheila pointed to the drawer of her nightstand. “Honey you know my vibrator and other toys that I use, there? Would you call all of your friends and bring them over to watch me use them and make fun of me for it? Or get some other woman to come here because I have my own ways of getting off occasionally?”
Karla shook her head violently from side to side. “I would never do such a thing to you!”
Sheila smiled and shook her head. “Well, I don’t see this as any different, honey. I would not humiliate you! That is a total violation of the trust between us!”
Karla shook her head. This was going all wrong! It was time to salvage things, somehow. She brought out the powerful ammo.
“Sheila, maybe you should look at what I have been reading online the last few years. Better yet, please sit down here and read for a while? This web site will explain things better than I can.” Karla pulled Sheila over and got her to sit down at the PC.
“Okay honey, I’ll read for a bit. Why don’t you go watch some TV while I read? I brought your favorite snacks in, they’re on the counter!” Sheila smiled at Karla and then began reading.
Karla paced around in her high heels, waiting for Sheila to come down. She hoped and prayed, but secretly feared, seeing Sheila come down the stairs with a hairbrush to spank her naughty husband and to begin Karla’s submission and total sissification. Karla had picked one of the most brutal sissy sites, ran by a total Dominant bitch of a woman. A woman that, in Karla’s wildest fantasies, Sheila might emulate once she read all about it.
After nearly an hour Sheila came down and walked over to Karla. She shook her head and pouted at her husband. “Oh sweetheart, you really would want me to be like those psychopathic bitches? I’m sorry honey but that is just not me, nor could I ever even begin to be like that. Besides, that is a total fantasy, you know, right?”
Karla blushed bright red and nodded. “I know, it just… it turns me on to think about it you see.”
“Oh I know Karl, and I sort of understand. But those are stories and role-play. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I am sure there are real life situations like that. But, like I said, those women are psychotic, and I could never hurt you or abuse you like that! And as for other men in my bed? Oh My God, Karl, there’s no way! I only want you in my bed, period.”
She pulled Karla over to the sofa and pulled him down beside her. “Honey, I am not a sadist, nor would I get any pleasure from humiliating you in front of my friends or our friends. I could never do that to you! I love you!”
"So, you don't like BDSM and look down on Mistresses and all of that stuff?"
Sheila looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, honey, I don't look down on that stuff at all. It works for some people and I am sure they enjoy it. It is just not me: I am not sadistic, and I don't crave power over you. Nor would I ever want to hurt and humiliate you."
Karla nodded, quite sad that her big plan had fallen apart, but at the same time relieved that her fantasy could not spiral out of control into actual servitude for life.
“One thing, though, dear. I do think you are spending a little too much time reading that stuff.” She wrinkled her nose. “I am not demanding you stop, mind you, but I am asking if you could maybe go easier on it. I think it is giving you some bizarre ideas that do not translate well into the real world!”
Karla replied, “I think you are quite correct, Sheila. I need to lay off that stuff, more than a little.”
Sheila grinned impishly and tickled Karla’s thigh through the dark nylon stocking. “That’s not to say we couldn’t role-play in the bedroom a bit, if you’d like, baby. You could be my cheap prostitute I hired for an afternoon of fun, maybe? Just remember that it is for mutual pleasure, and I am not going to take it any further than that.”
Karla decided that maybe life wasn’t that bad, after all, and raced upstairs with her wife.
The Duchess of Arad
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The Duchess of Arad
Chapter 1
by Jenny Sugar
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar All Rights Reserved. |
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Dr. Richard Harrison shut off the ignition of his rented car and let out a sigh of relief. Up and down twisting, torturous roads winding all over the Carpathians for the past three months was beginning to sap even his own usual optimistic nature. He got out of the car and walked over to the edge of this particular road and admired the view. That was about the only pleasant thing so far in this year’s expedition — the incredible beauty of this part of Romania.
His doctorate was in Medieval History, specializing in Eastern Europe. One of his ancestors was Hungarian on his mother’s side, so he’d first taken to genealogy in high school, and then from there dived into history with a passion. Hungary, Romania, and Bulgaria had all had their own visits from him over the years.
He’d learned rudimentary bits of language in each area, picking up more Hungarian than any other. The Eastern Romance languages were all descended from the Vulgar Latin spoken in Roman times there when the area was called Dacia. Learning all this in history courses was one thing; but picking up languages and speaking clearly in them proved to be a challenge for Richard.
He was deep in the mountains at the moment, where often roads were merely a suggestion rather than anything certain. He was hoping to find ruins or even a castle not picked over by tourists. He had two cameras along and tons of memory sticks for them to record all of his travels.
He snapped some photos of the scenery, then grinned and set the auto-timer on the camera and set it on the hood of the car. He backed away, waiting for the click.
The camera captured a smiling 26-year-old man of slender build, roughly 5-foot-7 with brown shaggy hair and wide blue eyes. His clothes were a bit rumpled and there were shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep. Finding hostels or even good camping sites were a challenge at times. He’d been forced to sleep in the rental far too many times.
He’d asked around, in halting Romanian, if there were any ancient castles or ruins near these mountains and had gathered that there were some ruins near this spot. So, as his last expedition before heading back to America he’d driven up and decided to spend at least a few days exploring.
After hiking for a while he came upon a thick forest, but noticed the trail he was on continued on through into the trees. The trail, as such, was often straight and occasionally he found flattened stones sticking up from the dirt. They looked a bit like cobblestones, which to him was a very good sign.
Before entering the woods he sat down on the remains of a fallen tree near the edge and ate his lunch that he’d brought along from the car. A sip of water from his canteen and he was ready to investigate the forest. He was quite pleased to learn that the trail, while at times almost vanishing, did indeed continue onward through the forest.
Richard had hiked for about half an hour when he started seeing worn stonework. To the untrained eye, the first such evidence of human construction he found might have been overlooked. But to him it was a neon sign in the dark shouting “people built something here.”
He went past a particularly thick grove of trees and brush and finally saw walls. They were mostly crumbling but certain evidence of ancient construction. He took a pad made of graphing paper from his pack and began sketching out a precise map of the structure. After over an hour of trudging around and sketching he came to the conclusion that this had been a small keep or castle. “Maybe five, six hundred years old easily. It could be older, still. This could be a good find!”
One area in particular was well-preserved, much more than the rest. There were some actual walls and rooms — the walls held up by thick oak trees growing around them. Without the trees he suspected that this section, too, would have been crumbled to dust before now.
While prowling around inside one of the partial rooms, Richard found that the flooring in one room was a different colored and different type of stone than the granite that made up the rest. He pried one up with much difficulty and found emptiness. More excited by this find than any in a long time, he pulled several more out and saw he had opened a sealed-off staircase of some sort.
Richard decided to go back to the car and get his tent and other supplies and camp here tonight. It would be dark soon and he was getting quite exhausted. A good night’s rest and he’d tackle the sealed-off room and whatever treasures it might hold tomorrow.
After making sure of the integrity of the nearby walls, Richard pitched his tent near one. He built a small fire and cooked a small meal while thinking about this area and its history. This could have been the castle of some local voivodeship, or duchy, for this local area. Consulting his drawing, he debated on whether it would be called a castle or perhaps just a keep.
He finally put his notes and sketches away and turned in for the night, quite happy that he’d finally found something that perhaps nobody else could claim discovery on.
The next morning Richard awoke refreshed and with a sense of excitement for the day. After a quick cold breakfast he prepared his supplies and worked his way down through the opening and onto the stairs. He had brought a battery operated fluorescent lantern along just for such a purpose. It had been mostly unused on this journey until now.
Richard was naturally cautious by nature, so his exploration was slow and methodical as he could make it. The stairs ended in a large empty room. However, his disappointment was muted by the fact that there were two passages leading out of it, one left and one right. He chose the left and began to explore it first.
The conditions down the dank tunnel were not good, and the stones in some places were eroded away allowing dirt to flood into the hallway. None of it was enough to block his path, however, so he kept going as the hall went on and on. Cobwebs covered the hallway and the dust stirred by his walking filled them with dust. He could tell that not a soul had walked here for hundreds of years, at least.
Richard was nearing what looked like a T-junction in the hall when the block of stone he had just stepped on gave way and he felt himself falling along with the stone and several others around it. He landed, hit his head, and was knocked unconscious. The lantern, still functioning, lay beside his body illuminating another long hall.
Richard came to, coughing a bit from the dust still hanging in the air. His lantern was still on, a development for which he was grateful. He slowly stood and looked around. Apparently the floor he’d been walking across had weakened over the years, and collapsed into this tunnel when his weight hit the right spot.
He looked upward and saw a good-sized hole above him where he’d fallen through. But it was a good ten feet above him and even standing on one of the fallen blocks did not enable him to even have a chance to get back up to where he’d come from. He decided to follow the tunnel that he was now in and hope there was a way out further on.
The crumbling tunnel ended only about one hundred yards from where he had fallen in with an iron-banded oak door. It was in remarkably good shape considering how old it must have been. Richard pushed and pried at it, and finally took a run at it and hit it with his shoulder, hard. It hurt, but it was enough to open the door. With a tumultuous crash the door smashed open, the bulk of it falling over. Dust and pieces of half-rotted wood splinters scattered in all directions.
Beyond the door he found a small chamber, about ten by ten feet at most. In the center of the room, he found a woman. Around her neck was a metal collar attached to a thick chain. The other end of the chain was attached to an iron post rising from the floor.
The woman was not moving at all. She looked to be in her eighties or even older. His portable electric lantern was still working or he’d never have known she was there. He slowly approached her body and noticed she appeared to be either dead or sleeping. His thoughts were puzzled. Who would chain a helpless old woman up in this secret room? And how on earth did they get in and out?
The second that Richard touched the arm of the woman, her eyes snapped open and her hand reached out and grabbed his forearm. He gasped and tried to pull away but her grip was like steel bands. He could not pry her hand loose. Pulling away simply brought her along until the limit of her chain was reached.
He began to feel dizzy and the room began to go out of focus. Soon, consciousness left him and he fell over the woman’s body.
Her eyes opened and she looked around the stone room in puzzlement. She had no idea where she was or, for that matter, who she was. She was wearing a loose-fitting men’s shirt and some very uncomfortable jeans.
She tried to stand, and as she did some of the dizziness receded. The pants wanted to fall but her searching fingers found a belt. She tightened it up and her unruly pants would now at least stay up.
She glanced down and noticed a desiccated body, with some sort of metal collar around the neck attached to a rusty heavy chain. The chain was attached to a post near the center of the room. She studied the body for quite some time but her expression never changed and she didn’t move as she looked down.
The only light was a plastic lantern shining on the floor beside her.
She picked it up and walked around the room, beginning to feel somewhat less weak. She had no idea where she was and trying to remember anything drew nothing but a blank.
She noticed an open door across the room, so, with no other inspiration she picked up the lantern and walked over to it. It had been forced open, obviously. She stepped through and was soon walking down a rough-hewn tunnel of some sort. She came to a collapsed heap of earth and stone.
Looking up, she could see an opening but it was much too far to reach. Without even thinking about it she squatted down and leaped for the opening, a good ten feet above her. She landed safely in a crouch above. She continued on through the ruins, not really looking at anything.
Who am I? How did I get here? Why can’t I remember anything? I am so hungry and cold and I feel strange!
The walls had no answer to her mental query; neither did the trees in the forest as she left the ruins. She found a path, perhaps an animal trail, or maybe the remains of an ancient road. She followed it.
After a time she came out of the forest and stopped where the path crossed a larger and more open trail. Not knowing why, she turned right and followed the wider path, going downhill. She came upon a clearing and nearly walked right into a man. The man was clearly out hunting, carrying a bow. No arrow was knocked, however. She’d been heading the same direction as him when he stopped and she halted, a few feet from him.
The man was speaking to her insistently but she could not understand him at all. At times his words almost made sense but then it became gibberish again. She shook her head each time he spoke and finally he threw his hands into the air and gestured her to follow. He seemed safe enough so she did. There was something enticing about the man but she didn’t know what it was.
He led her for maybe a half-mile and suddenly on the edge of the woods was a crudely-constructed cabin. A woman, much the same age as the man, opened the door as they approached and began to pepper the man with questions. He gestured at the person he had found often during the chatter.
She stood there watching, feeling stranger by the moment. Her hunger was becoming overpowering and she wondered how she might ask the couple for some food. She stared at the woman and the woman stared back.
Slowly the woman stopped talking and just stood there with a slight smile on her face, staring at nothing.
She turned to the man and he looked at her and she almost thought she smelled fear, somehow, emanating from him. She parted her lips and smiled at him without realizing it, and felt an odd sensation in the upper part of her mouth.
The man shrieked and began to pull at his wife and began jabbering. She caught two words repeated often: ‘vampir’ and ‘fugi’. Some ragged memory said that ‘fugi’ meant ‘run’ or maybe ‘escape’.
His terror and obvious intent to run from her triggered something. She felt her senses heighten and before she even realized what she was doing she leaped upon the man and bore him down to the ground. Using one hand she pulled his head to the side and bit into his neck at a certain spot.
Her lips sealed around the wounds she had made and she gulped the torrent of blood greedily. Without even thinking she began to suck hard at his neck, pulling more and more blood into her mouth, which she swallowed as fast as she could. It was so delicious and his struggles to break free caused excitement in her for reasons she could not begin to comprehend.
Soon his struggles ended and he was gone. She felt slightly saddened that it seemed to be over, but she pulled herself up and off of his body. Her own body sang with vitality and she felt strong and so alive, now. Her glance fell on the woman and she was shocked to see her still standing there with the vacant expression.
Instinct, perhaps, drove her to embrace the woman and slowly drain her as she had the man. She did not do it as fast, this time. However, in a short time the woman joined the man, bloodless and quite dead.
After casually tossing the woman aside in what felt like a practiced move, she stood and stretched luxuriously — almost cat-like. A happy smile was on her face and well-being radiated throughout her body.
She still had no conscious thoughts to speak of. For now she was a creature of pure instinct and emotion, it seemed.
Not knowing why, she walked into the small cabin and looked around. Utilitarian and slightly barren, but small feminine touches adorned the three tiny rooms inside. Something led her over to a collection of dresses hanging in the corner on wooden pegs. She pawed through them and chose one without any thought.
She went over to the bed and removed the ill-fitting male clothing and put on the dress. The fit was much better but far from perfect. A small dresser was beside the bed and it had a mirror with a single crack in it. She stared at her reflection without seeming to see it. Her hand picked up a hairbrush and began brushing her brown hair. It felt routine but there was very little conscious thought involved at all.
If she’d been able to process thoughts at the moment, she’d see an incredibly beautiful woman in the mirror, perhaps around age 25 at most. Dark brown hair, full pouty red lips, high and prominent cheekbones, and a slightly pointed chin. Her eyes were a brilliant silvery-gray color.
The window was brightening as dawn approached and the sound of a cock crowing somewhere in the vicinity shot a feeling of annoyance through her body. She had no idea why the sound brought the feeling but it sent her looking for something. The something ended up being a root cellar out behind the cabin. Cramped, musty, and partially full of shriveled potatoes but nonetheless brought relief from the desire to hide.
The dark did not frighten her in the least as she pulled the door shut and within seconds fell asleep.
Richard woke up in pitch darkness blundered around with his arms and hands trying to figure out where he was. He knew he was Richard Harrison now but his memory was still fragmented and hazy. Bizarre images came and went in his mind, but he shoved them aside, not comprehending much of anything he remembered. He felt small lumpy objects all around him and finally lifted one and sniffed it cautiously.
“Potato,” he noted.
He felt around and finally found the slightly angled wooden door and pushed it open and climbed out of the dank hole in the ground. The stars were bright and sharp in the sky. He’d never seen them so clear and so brilliant. He stood staring at them for a long time.
Finally he assessed the area and noticed the house. Circling it, he found two bodies — a man and a woman. The woman’s face was peaceful but the man’s was contorted in horror.
The two bodies made him feel uneasy and more strangely, guilty. He decided to follow the path that ended at the cabin. His body felt completely foreign to him and his thoughts so muddled he just meandered along the path without any clear idea of where he was going. Getting away from the cabin was his only coherent thought.
After walking for over an hour in the dark, Richard gave up and went back in the direction he thought he’d came from. He was lost and quite irritated with himself. He still wasn’t sure what he was doing, or what was going on here. Every time he tried to analyze what had been happening the fuzziness in his head got worse.
Richard walked and wandered about for nearly two more hours and finally found himself back at the cabin again. He stared at the bodies for a short time, and then decided to bury them. Finding a shovel in a dilapidated storage shed near the cabin, he started digging. If he’d been himself he would have been shocked at how quickly he dug a hole big enough to bury both bodies.
He went into the cabin and prowled around, finally entering the bedroom. Upon seeing the mirror he looked into it and the world faded out as if a light switch had been turned off.
The next evening he came to in the same bedroom, lying in the bed. He got up, and looked down, puzzled. He started to touch the large breasts on his chest to see if they were real or if he were hallucinating. Doing this made his head spin and he felt dizzy.
You fool, stop blanking out every time you touch your breasts or look at yourself. You are going to get us killed!
Richard jumped straight up in the air, landed and then spun around; searching for the source of the voice he’d just heard. But no matter what direction he looked, there was nobody visible.
Richard said “Who said that? Where are you?”
I am in your body. As you are in mine. You need to quit running around madly and we need to talk.
I am going insane. That is why I hear this voice and keep thinking I am in a woman’s body. Or, maybe this is a nightmare?
Fate has twined me with a fool who does not trust his own senses and mind.
Who… who are you?
I am Maria.
Why are you doing this to me?
I am doing nothing to you. You might say that you are doing this to me. It is… semantics.
Where did you come from? How did this happen?
He sensed amusement for a second before she replied. We… met, in the castle. Do you not remember finding me? I reached for you and then all went dark. I came to myself in my body, but not. And found you in here, as well.
Um, yeah. I do remember, now. What happened?
That, I am not sure of. I was grabbing you to feed when this happened.
Feed? He had no idea what she was talking about. Perhaps she was insane, too?
I am a vampire, fool. But, rather than feasting I got… you. A very odd thing, one I do not understand and I have never heard of such a thing happening.
Vampire?! There’s no such thing as…
He sensed a sigh. I have looked into your memories a bit. A strange world you live in. Yes, vampires do exist and I am, or was one. You ARE one, now. You must face that fact and quit trying to hide from the world inside your mind.
He looked down at his body again and shuddered. This has to be a nightmare.
Maria sighed at him and wished she could smack him a few times in the face. She tried to take control of their body and when she almost had it things went fuzzy for both of them.
The woman wandered around the cabin, touching things with a curious expression, not seeming to know what most of them were. After about an hour of sitting and brushing her hair, the woman once again regained her faculties.
Richard’s first action was to drop the hairbrush as if it were a burning ember in his hand. He stood up and the voice returned in his head.
I cannot take control, it seems. It puts us back in some strange state where neither of us controls our body.
Richard grew angry. Look, whoever you are… Maria? You have no right to steal my body! I want you to leave, now.
Maria’s laughter echoed through his head. No right? Leave? Do not be such a fool. Do you think I chose this? I cannot leave this body any more than you can leave this body, Richard Harrison!
Who, exactly are you, where did you come from? And how did this all happen? I think I deserve some answers, here.
Very well. Stop pacing the floor and sit down and I will tell you my story, then.
Richard sat down and waited to hear Maria’s story.
The Duchess of Arad, Chapter 2
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The Duchess of Arad
Chapter 2
by Jenny Sugar
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar All Rights Reserved. |
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I was born in the Principality of Transylvania in the year 1588. I had royal blood — being related to quite a few nobles. It only meant that I was a Lady - not a peasant. My life was really nothing to me until my rebirth. I married young to a Duke in Arad. I became a Duchess of Arad. It meant nothing but a title, being arranged by our parents. My given name was Maria.
I was bored! Wealthy for the time that I lived in, with anything that I desired handed to me. I had servants and only the best food and the best clothing. I was soon looking for more in my life than I had. A foolish weakness nearly all humans possess, yes?
I was soon enamored of a young and very dark man named Gregor Bathory, himself a cousin of Sigismund Bathory, Prince of Transylvania. He was vampire of course. Something about me attracted him and he began to visit me when my husband was away from our home. He enthralled our servants so they would not report to the Duke.
He fed on me often and I was his thrall in all things. I pined for him when not at his side. When I reached twenty years he turned me and I awoke with hunger and began to feast upon any and all that I could! One night my husband angered me — he complained I slept every day and only arose at night; I would not go out in the day with him and he was shouting at me over it. I drained him and played the grieving widow for a time.
Gregor had told me to lick the wounds and let my superior healing power heal them before my victims passed. It is good that I did, because the Duke had many friends and they were all quite upset at his keeling over dead with not a mark upon him. He had always been hearty and hale.
Gregor and I moved on from Arad to a small village, craving anonymity and solitude. Far easier hunting in a great city like Arad, but with more people comes more chance for discovery of our natures, was his argument to me. So, we settled in an old monastery for a time. The irony of us living in a monastery was not lost on me. I was becoming so much more than the decadent Duchess that I was, bored with life and consumed with gossip and trivia.
About two years after Gregor turned me; I returned early one morning after feasting on a few morsels and found his corpse ran through with a wooden stake! I was filled with anger and vowed that whoever destroyed my Gregor would pay dearly. I became vengeance upon the small village and before the moon cycled I had destroyed it and avenged Gregor. I never found the person or persons responsible for his death, for certain. But I was sure that the village was to blame.
I became more careful after his Final Death and I hid myself away from all. I ventured out only to hunt when needed, not wanting the stake myself! I wanted to live. I wanted to feast forever. I had no pity, nor mercy, for any who crossed my path. They were sustenance to continue my existence only. They begged, they pleaded — it availed them nothing. I was death to any who crossed my path.
I stayed in these mountains for countless years, trying to be as cautious as one could who feasts on humans. For a time I reigned in a small village not far from here. I was their Goddess! They were all my thralls and I took from each whatever I wished, up to death if I so desired. They were my thralls and the wife would eagerly offer up her husband to please her Goddess! The husband his children, even so.
I turned one who worshiped me and made her my Daughter. Her appetite was insatiable, and in time she was my downfall. Her pride and sloppiness would often combine and she would leave her victims with bite marks plainly visible. Oh, Ecaterina, you fool…
Conquerors came and went throughout the years. This was good for me. Soldiers disappear all of the time. Easy to take for me — what soldier would turn down a smiling woman offering herself? I grew to love war. War brought me safe meals with nobody caring to look closely at just one more dead soldier. I know from your memories that you are a student of history, Richard. Then you must know that life in those times was near-constant war. I was satiated with blood and death.
Between the Hungarians and the Ottomans I never lacked for blood! The Russians were my downfall, however. It was 1877 and they came in to Wallachia and Transylvania to help oust the Ottomans. They brought their Orthodox Priests. Priests who knew vampires and knew them well, it seems!
Maria sighed and was silent for a moment. Ecaterina fed well on the soldiers over the years but her appetite betrayed her to the Priests. She was careless and left corpses everywhere. She didn’t care enough to hide her bite marks. The Priests and their helpers tracked her down and staked her. And through her they found me.
Mark my words; we are far more intelligent and cunning than any human. Far more! However, if one is not careful, one’s hubris can become so powerful that one can become careless. This happened to me. I acted as if no mere mortal could ever harm me, let alone destroy me. I should have taken Ecaterina’s death as a warning and fled. But, my pride was great and I thought myself indestructible.
Eventually, I was caught in a trap - as you correctly surmised my dear. They began stalking me and baiting me when I would hunt. I later understood their intent — they wanted me to chase! And I did. Until one night I chased one of them into a trapped room. They sealed me in a room with windows behind steel bars that I could not break. And they waited for daylight.
I was in agony in full sunlight. I was burning, slowly but surely. Sometime after I became unconscious they took me to the room you found me in and chained me to that post.
I know not why they did not stake me. I would have, in their place! I also do not know why they took me to the room that you found me in. I do know this — they were terrified of me. I could sense it — taste it.
Perhaps their fear kept them from finishing me? I will never know. They never once spoke to me, though I pleaded with them in Russian and offered deals, wealth, whatever it would take to make them release me.
I spent decades when I was not sleeping there wondering why they never destroyed me. I know that I shall never learn the answer, now. I would love to, though.
So, chained and unable to break it I slept and conserved my strength. I recovered from the burns, somewhat. But I knew that I was permanently weakened. Nobody found me until you. It was a bad time for you. If you had come slightly later I would have been dead — earlier, I would have drained you and bought myself decades.
You sound as if you regret being found? Richard asked her.
Eh, my time is past and I weary of things. I cannot take over this body as you have feared! He heard her mocking laughter. Yes, I know your fear but it is groundless! Your modern world with so many marvels that I see in your memories would be a frightening place for me. I will leave you eventually and be glad of the eternal rest. Part of me will live on in you and part will go on to whatever there is. At least, this is what I sense will happen. I may be wrong in this.
Her tone turned curious. We must prevent this odd state where neither of us is in control. I do not understand it but we must not risk it. Perhaps it is a struggle between us?
I honestly do not know, Duchess. I am completely lost. Is there no way to change me back? Maybe find you a woman’s body to inhabit?
He detected actual sympathy in her answer. No, that is beyond anyone’s ability to do. My innate magic changed you. I did not mean for it to happen. It… happened. There was no thought to it, my new friend — my consciousness, soul if you will… that which is ME, leaped into you and you transformed. I had no control over this and did not expect such a thing to happen. I was, and am, shocked that such a thing could happen!
Richard nodded, sadly. What did you mean you will fade away or leave me? What will I do with you gone? How will I survive? I know nothing of being a vampire!
She laughed. He was beginning to like her musical laugh. That might be years, decades, or even a century from now! There will be time before I go to teach you all you need know. We shall feed often and you will come to love it as I do.
No. I don’t want to go around killing people to ‘feed’. It is evil!
Evil? Bah! The rabbit, were you able to ask it, would call the wolf evil for hunting it for food. The wolf, his opinion would differ! We are wolves to humanity’s rabbits. You understand this I see. You call it a ‘food chain’ — you learned of this in school when you were nine years old, am I right?
He hated when she prowled through his mind, but agreed. Maybe so, but a rabbit is not a human being and there is morality involved in killing people.
You speak to me of morality? We are advanced far beyond humans. As far as people above a wolf, yes? We are stronger, smarter, immortal save for misadventure or being murdered. We have superior vision, hearing, sense of smell and taste. Do you not see? But do not speak to me of morality! I do not take children, for instance. One could argue that I do not for the same reason the hunter does not take the baby deer. Or one could argue it is because I treasure children. Both are valid reasons — and both are true for me.
Richard sighed. Couldn’t we just take a pint or two and not kill them?
She laughed again. Why limit ourselves to a paltry amount when we can take what we wish? We can grant rapture as we drain them and they go willingly and experiencing bliss. Or, we can let them stay lucid and smell their fear and terror as they struggle as we drain their life away! It is delicious!
Witness it!
Her perception shifted and she was before a haughty woman dressed very regal, who ordered her to leave at once. She smiled, revealing her fangs, and the woman gasped in fear and tried to run. She easily overtook the woman and pulled her into an embrace, grinning in delight at her terror. The woman fought hard but she was so much stronger. She bit into the woman’s neck and began to batten on her as the struggles slowly weakened. Maria’s excitement grew as her prey struggled and fought her.
Duchess, that… that was horrible!
Bah. She was a bitch, another spoiled brat daughter of some local duke. She lorded it over all until I showed her true superiority! We fed once and you loved it — do not deny it! We shall feed again and you will see. I love feeling them struggle and fight me and then slowly they weaken in my arms.
Richard was horrified. You… enjoyed her terror. You reveled in it, even. You are so evil. You’re like the most evil vampires in the movies. You lust to kill and you love their fear as you murder them.
She did a mental sniff. I do not see it that way. I am just a predator and she was prey. But of course I enjoyed it! Your movies I can see in your mind. ‘Dracula’ and ‘Van Helsing’ and all of that. So amusing! Of course the prey portrays us as evil and cruel and vicious! As I said before, so would the rabbit portray the wolf! My thralls that I mentioned before? They adored me and I was never cruel to them. They were useful and kept me safe for close on a century.
He thought for a few moments before advancing his next argument. If we are stronger and more intelligent, then we should attempt to be more moral, too! We should protect the weak and not prey upon them. Preying on the weak and helpless is wrong. That is true evil.
Does the lion protect the lamb? Does the snake defend the rat? No. We owe the weak nothing! At best, we owe them a painless death… perhaps as payment for nourishing us. Though at times I can be cruel — I can admit this! — most times, Richard, I put them into a trance and they go happy. Can the victims of your TWO World Wars say as much, eh? I find myself gasping at the sheer numbers of dead you humans piled up over the years while I slept. Deaths in the millions? Incinerating entire cities with these atomic bombs? And you question MY morality? She sniffed, again.
That’s neither here nor there, Maria. I’ll starve myself and die before I murder people like that! He was certain that that was the only option and he said it to her as firmly as he could.
He could tell she thought him a fool again, though she did not voice the thought. No, we will not starve. The hunger would force us to attack long before that happened. And we’d end up staked. I FELT Ecaterina die, and it was not pleasant. I know you eat meat. Do you feel sorry for the cow that died for your steak? What of the poor cow, hmm?
Richard fired right back. The cow was taken care of, well-fed, and was slaughtered as humanely as possible so that it didn’t suffer. And a cow is not self-aware! It is not human.
Neither are you, now. And as I said before, my foolish naíve friend, we are as far above the humans as the humans are above the cow. I see no difference.
Humans have a soul! Cows, rabbits, and even wolves do not! He replied heatedly.
Her reply was sly. Oh, do they now? Then why do you not believe that? Do not forget that I see your memories and know you better than you know yourself, now! Do not prattle to me of souls and morality, Richard Harrison. You doubt the existence of God; you doubt the existence of the soul. You are agnostic, in an agnostic world judging by your thoughts and memories. The church seems to have lost its grip on the world, at last! She seemed pleased by this.
Why are you so happy to learn that, Maria?
Her answer was tinged with amusement. We are not so different, you and I. I listened to the Priests, and I did not know their words for truth or lies. Regardless of whether they are right or wrong, I was never certain. If they were right that I am a creature of darkness — a supernatural Hell-spawn, even… why then does the cross not harm me? Why could I drink the holy water of a priest and stand there grinning at him when it did nothing?
She shared that memory with him and it made him laugh. The poor man was just stunned that the evil vampire woman in front of him touched his cross and drank his holy water. He was even further stunned when she made him her latest snack.
I still don’t know that I can get used to living like this, Duchess. It just feels… wrong. Not just the feeding! But I am a woman now! There is too much to take at once, here!
You call me Duchess one moment and Maria the next. She giggled. Call me Maria. We are much closer than any other two people have been, I daresay.
Alright, then, Maria. How is it that you speak English so well? I’d have thought you’d speak Romanian.
He heard an exasperated sigh. I told you when I was born, and I told you what year I was trapped and chained up. Do you not think that I had thralls and even friends who were not Romanian in all that time? I also told you how intelligent we are. I knew German, English, French, Russian, Hungarian, Romanian, Polish… hmm, some Greek, Latin, and German as well.
Richard was a bit shocked that she knew all these languages. Wow!
Also, do not forget that I am in your mind, or you are in mine. Your language is like my own, now.
Richard thought of the sheer amount of history that this woman must have witnessed and for a moment felt jealousy for what she had seen and experienced. This prompted another chuckle from Maria.
You mistake living in that time for experiencing everything. I kept myself isolated for the greater part of the time, you see. For example, the Wallachian Uprising in 1821? Of course I knew of it, but for me it was yet another source of food with less danger to me.
Richard replied. Still, you had the opportunity to see so much! It is a shame you didn’t take it.
Do not think I did not know what was going on in the world. I knew of your Civil War in the United States, you know. I could have gone there, easily. I even considered it, once. Your country appealed to me in some ways, from the things that I heard of it.
Maybe we can get there one day soon, Maria. I am open to try if you wish. I don’t know what to do or where to go, at all.
As a vampire we can go where we wish and do what we wish! You shall see.
Richard idly wondered if there were still vampires around today, and if so how many there might be.
I do not know, of course. I can tell you that, in my time, I only ever knew of one other like me besides Gregor. I sensed him or her but they fled my hunting ground before I could make contact. If we still exist in your time you will sense if you come near one. Your stories and movies that I see in your mind suggest to me that some may still exist.
Richard nodded, thinking that she was most likely correct.
Now, we must leave this place and hunt. After, we should travel. Humans fly, now! Such a thing astounds me. Maybe we go to your home country, yes. Oh, and we must read this book ‘Dracula’ one day soon. Your memories of it are not precise and I would read this story that introduced vampires to the world!
Richard was surprised at the reading request but said, sure, if you want.
Richard looked down at his generous bosom and the simple dress she’d forced him to steal from the poor peasant’s house. He asked her another question. What do I look like, now?
Did you not see yourself in the mirror? I saw a glimpse as we walked through. You look like me, of course. If I may be immodest, quite lovely. Beautiful hair, luscious red lips, a perfect womanly figure that always attracted the men! You will never lack for companionship! Go to the mirror!
Richard looked at himself and saw an exquisitely beautiful and sexy woman looking back at him with a shocked expression. The reflection looked slightly haughty and sophisticated, while at the same time wanton and sexy.
She laughed and sent more scenes into his head of various men pursuing her with lust in their eyes. Worse, from his point of view, she also let him experience sex with some of them.
He shuddered and then decided to change the subject and answered her earlier question. I don’t think I could fly home now even if I wanted to, Duchess! My passport says ‘Richard Harrison’ and lists me as male! I’d not get through security to even board a plane! Look at me! I could not pass for myself no matter how hard I tried!
Perhaps, then, we tour Europe for a bit, eh? I never left the confines of Wallachia and Transylvania for most of my years. And even then, I’ve only been to Hungary and a short time in Austria, once.
That will be hard to do, I am nearly broke. I was going to leave for home, soon.
She was amused at his answer. Money is not a problem any longer for you, as you shall see.
Richard didn’t answer; he was holding a hand to his chest.
I have a heartbeat! Very slow but I feel it! Richard exclaimed.
She answered lazily, in a way that told him she had zero curiosity about biology or how vampiric life differed from human. Yes, it does beat. What of it? Ah, you are thinking of your movies again. ‘Undead’ corpses shambling about, with glowing eyes, sucking victims dry! No heartbeat because they are animated corpses! Bah! We are not ‘undead’. The concept is a fiction. We are beyond life.
Richard’s curiosity kept bringing up new questions. What about crosses, or holy water? Shouldn't they affect you, us?
What about them? Oh, yes, your movies and books about vampires, again. No, they are just objects to us. Nothing to fear. She became amused. You do not see it as I do, yet. Think… you are writing a book about the evil vampires against the noble humans. You MUST give the poor humans some weapon or a way to win, yes? You give the poor humans a powerful talisman that the vampire cowers before!
So, being staked in the heart is the only way we can die?
That or beheading or burnt up in fire are the only ways I believe we could die, yes. The light of the sun is painful and over time will kill. I was never tempted to find out. The time I spent in the sun when they captured me was quite enough! Guns could be a problem if they shoot us in the head enough times, I daresay. The heart recovers if shot, though. It happened to me, once. Our healing powers are astounding.
Richard finally voiced something that had been bothering him. You were in control at the house when we left the castle, weren’t you?
Maria hesitated for a few moments, then answered, slightly puzzled. I was, but yet I was not. We were both present, yet not. It felt like instinct to me. I did not think conscious thoughts at all during that, and I can tell that you did not, either. It is as I said, earlier. It is some strange state and I think it is dangerous to us both. We fed on that couple you keep remembering and feeling guilty about. But, we did it and did not realize we were doing it. We must prevent that happening again! It is too dangerous for us to do this sleep-walking!
I don’t know why or how it happened. You said that when you tried to take control it happened?
Her response sounded annoyed. Yes. It seemed to cause the fading for me.
Then I suggest we don’t fight over control, to keep that from happening.
You are correct. We must work together if we are to survive.
Well, we need to settle this feeding thing!
When he mentioned feeding the thought raged up from her. We should feed again, soon. It has been so long!
I’d rather not. He’d started remembering the walk from the castle, and attacking the couple at their cabin. It was almost a pleasant-seeming memory, to his mortification and utter horror.
She laughed with delight, having caught his feelings. Oh, yes. Soon you will be eager enough. You are just beginning to learn how wonderful it is!
He shuddered. How often must we feed?
She responded promptly. At least weekly, perhaps every two weeks. When I could safely do it, I sometimes fed daily just for the thrill of it. Going without more than a month is extremely painful.
She abruptly changed the subject.
You must take a woman’s name. Your mind is becoming more female and you know your body IS female. You cannot continue to think of yourself as ‘Richard’. That is a strong masculine name and is no longer you.
What should I choose? Maria?
No. You are not me, you are you. A new name is needed.
Richard thought for a while as the Duchess grew silent. He thought of women’s names beginning with the letter ‘R’ for some reason. How about Rachel? I always liked that name.
Mm, yes. That name is a good name. Rachel Harrison.
Rachel Maria Harrison?
Maria was pleased, he could tell. Yes! I like that. You honor me by keeping my name, as well. I am happy with that.
Rachel silently pondered her new identity. It seemed to make her transition to womanhood more real, somehow.
Exactly, Rachel. You ARE a woman now; you need to embrace your new self. Now, let us go back in the old castle. I had you bring the satchel for a reason…
Soon Rachel was led to an area that looked no different from any other and was pointed to a certain stone by the Duchess. When she removed it and reached in the resulting hole she pulled out tattered pieces of cloth and gold coins. In the end there were nearly a hundred of the heavy coins.
Rachel wondered how Maria knew of the coins and learned that this castle was a place she and Gregor had actually stayed in, for a time. They always kept some gold or silver around for emergencies.
Maria caught Rachel’s excitement over the coins and laughed. We can use these, yes, and having money is a good thing of course. But, our nature means that we can get by in this world without money in most circumstances. You shall see.
Rachel made her way back out of the ruins and decided to sit down for a bit and continue her conversation with Maria.
Ok, if we are going to travel and err, feed, we need to get identification, and a passport.
I do not understand this need for paper that says you are yourself.
Rachel laughed out loud. Without it we could not go to my homeland. We could not do a lot of things. It’s just part of life in the twenty-first century, Maria. Better get used to it! I think with all of this gold we could afford to pay someone to make a fake ID…
Pay? She was amused, again. No, Rachel, we will not pay. And we do not need to get anything that is faked. We will go visit whatever official grants this ‘ID’ and he will happily give us whatever we need. I will teach you how we enthrall a man. They are easier than women, especially when giving direction. You forget, you are a ravishing beauty, now.
Rachel blushed and glanced down at her breasts and looked at her small petite hands. She WAS ravishing and exotic, now. This brought uncomfortable thoughts of male attention that she’d rather have not come up. Maria was laughing at her again and this made it all worse.
I would like to be there when you are first with a man. Oh yes, I will be, will I not? Her laughter pealed through Rachel’s head.
Rachel shuddered and replied acidly. What makes you think that I will ever be with a man, Maria?
You will, I think. One day, it will happen. But, Rachel, long before I became vampire I learned to control and manipulate men. They are so easily led! Being a vampire makes it too easy, honestly. We must work out our body control issues so that I can show you this, soon. You need to learn to BE a woman, Rachel — for that is what you are, now. Vampire or not, you are a woman!
Rachel knew that Maria was right, but felt so lost and adrift in this new body and situation that she almost wanted to cry.
Now, enough of that. I want you to relax completely and let me attempt to raise your arm.
Rachel nodded and relaxed as much as possible, and was soon watching her right arm rise up and her fingers opening and closing with no apparent will of her own doing it.
Maria was very pleased and projected a sense of overwhelming relief that she was able to move Rachel’s arm and use her hand. Rachel assumed that the relief was due to Maria not feeling as trapped and unable to touch the world but that wasn’t it.
Of course it feels good to DO something, Rachel. However, my fear was that you would not or could not feed and we would be left wandering the world, half-starved, feral, and fangs showing to all humans who came near!
Rachel let Maria continue to move her arms and even stand up and sit down, and finally walk around a bit. Letting Maria do this allowed Rachel to think on her situation a bit more, and face what really bothered her even more than becoming a woman: feeding on humans.
Would that really happen if we didn’t feed for a long time? I’d turn into some feral monster lashing out at whoever I saw?
Yes, it would. Your instincts would take over. It would be much like the state we were in when we first fed at that cabin near the castle. It would end with us staked or, if your thoughts and memories are anything to go by, locked in some laboratory and studied and probed and even dissected! Maria shuddered and Rachel’s body shuddered right along with her.
You think of me as a bloodthirsty evil monster, Rachel. And yet, you have scientists and researchers doing horrible things all over the world. You read an article not long ago about an allergy to wheat. Wheat, of all things! And there was speculation that it might be caused by humans who have manipulated the seeds to make the crop larger.
Rachel nodded, remembering that well. But, that has nothing to do with murdering people!
Maria snorted. Does it not? If this keeps happening, millions could starve, Rachel. It would be genocide if they mess with food to the point that people cannot eat it! Listen to me, Rachel. And please listen carefully. Rachel nodded and focused on Maria’s voice.
Yes, I kill to survive. I often enjoy it, truly. It is my nature! It is what I am. But I am nothing compared to what I see going on in your world, Rachel! Still there are countless wars. Famines, not only caused by poor weather but by human greed and stupidity. Horrible new weapons in an endless quest to find better ways to kill. World War Two? Prussian efficiency taken to such sick extremes it even nauseates a killer such as myself! The Russians and their Soviet State? Millions more starved and killed. I cannot comprehend such numbers of corpses! Still it goes on and on.
Perhaps humanity’s problem is that killing has become too easy? Your soldiers no longer face each other on a field, and hack at each other with swords or shoot at each other with simple rifles such as in my time. Oh, no, it is so much easier now. Your soldiers fly and drop death from the skies in safety while people below are blown to pieces.
So please, Rachel, spare me your moralizing and your superior attitude! I am appalled at so much that I have seen in your mind. People now kill and destroy at a remote distance, their hands un-bloodied — or so they think! Your people kill by proxy, Rachel. Your butchers kill cows and chickens and sheep and your hands are never dirty. You receive your meat nicely packaged and never need see how it reached you. Your enemies are slaughtered by your soldiers and you do not even have to see the results — you merely profit from the destruction at a distance.
We must soon visit a library or this internet you often think of so that I can learn more. I do not like much, if any, of what I have seen but I want to know what the world now holds for me, and for you.
Maria left Rachel feeling stunned and somewhat ashamed after her speech. Rachel could not refute what was said, but still felt that killing people was wrong and they needed to find a way to survive without ending lives.
A sigh from Maria reached her, and Rachel was surprised to sense some idea of compromise forming. Rachel… we may be able to do something as you suggest. I will consider what could be done. You have thought repeatedly of ‘blood banks’, which are, if I understand correctly, places blood is stored to replace blood lost in accidents and misfortune, yes?
Rachel replied, Yes, I was thinking that maybe we could dine on blood from there rather than killing people!
We will try it, when we get settled in somewhere for a time. I promise nothing, and I suspect we need it fresh — but we will try if it soothes your conscience.
Thank you, Maria. Rachel was very pleased that Maria was willing to at least try a different path.
Think nothing of it, Rachel. We must work together to survive and I am quite capable of compromise.
She left the castle ruins and began to make her way back to the rental car, hoping it would still be there. After some time she found it, undisturbed. With a happy sigh she settled into the driver’s seat.
Now, let us go to that town you passed through to get here. We must find lodging and then a meal! And I have a strong desire to ride in this automobile of yours.
Maria loved riding in the car, exclaiming occasionally about various changes in the world as they neared civilization. After the roads became better the sky began to lighten and they pulled into a small hostel to spend the day. She had gotten quiet, and when Rachel asked her what was wrong her reply was simple.
So much has changed, Rachel. It really is a brand new world for me. I am taking it all in. Silence reigned again as she let Maria take it all in while she pondered her new life. Rachel was still a bit shocked that she actually liked Maria, and was growing fond of her. The woman was a murderer, a thousand times over… yet she was likable and fun to talk with!
Rachel expected a reply to that thought but Maria was too busy taking in the scenery and enjoying riding in the car to bother to respond. She might have had a moment of amusement there, though. The Duchess was often amused at things that Rachel would not be.
Rachel’s thoughts triggered a response, finally. Live almost three hundred years, Rachel, and you, also, will find more things amusing than not. Life seems, at times, to be a huge joke perpetrated on humanity — and vampires! — by some unknown prankster!
The Duchess of Arad, Chapter 3
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The Duchess of Arad
Chapter 3
by Jenny Sugar
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar All Rights Reserved. |
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They stopped and got a room at a bed and breakfast and after settling in the room Maria pointed out that Rachel was hungry and that it was time to hunt. Rachel did not like this at all and they argued for nearly an hour before Maria prevailed and they began to prowl the streets. Maria was looking for a certain type of person, and Rachel finally asked her about it.
Her reply was distracted but informative. We are looking for cutpurses, thieves, rapists, and the like. The kind of people that, if they are to disappear, nobody will take note of it — or if they do get noticed, it will be welcomed. Well Maria, I must say I’d be much happier making a meal out of some rapist or murderer than some innocent person. That is well, Rachel. I am trying to work within your morality and at the same time lessen chances of you raising any alarm with anyone. |
Maria spotted a man who was watching a small store. The words on the store escaped Rachel though she thought it might be a pawn shop of some sort. Maria confirmed that it was indeed just that. This just annoyed Rachel, who thought it unfair that this unholy merger with an ancient vampire would not have at least granted her some language skills.
Maria laughed at her annoyance, thinking she was being childish. I did not set the table for this meal, Rachel, no more so than you did. We must eat the meal provided and be thankful we have the meal, yes?
Rachel agreed but felt slightly petulant that she did not seem to gain a lot from this nightmare other than possible eternal life.
Quit feeling sorry for yourself. Eternal life, strength, beauty, intelligence… you have gained far more than you lost. Enough moping, Rachel, we need to either cooperate here or you need to let me take control of our body. Which do you prefer to do?
Rachel’s answer was prompt. You do it! Just tell me what to do and I’ll let you drive.
Drive?
Like the car? You will be in control.
That brought laughter, again. I love your idioms, Rachel! I look forward to visiting America and seeing the land that produced so many amusing phrases! All right then, I want you to relax and just let me try to move our body, as we did before. Do not resist, just pretend you are riding in the car beside me!
Rachel stood quietly beside a lamppost and waited to see if Maria could do anything again. Suddenly she felt herself walking and let out a squeak. There! Ah, now we shall feed, Rachel! Just observe and do not interfere, please.
Maria walked up to the man who was obviously casing the pawn shop and smiled seductively at him. He spoke to her, in Romanian. Rachel could follow what he said pretty well. “Get lost. I have no time for whores right now, woman!”
Maria simply stared into his eyes and Rachel noted that the man soon became relaxed and pliant. He followed Maria’s gesture and followed her to an alley less than a block down the street. Once deep inside the alley Maria turned and Rachel felt her fangs come out as before. Soon they were feeding on the man and they both reveled at the energy and power felt from the man’s blood. The man did not struggle at all, but seemed lost in rapture, a huge grin on his face. Rachel understood that Maria was causing the man’s joy even as she drained him.
Soon, trouble came, however. Rachel spoke to Maria. Let’s stop now, we’ve fed a bit. Let him live!
Maria’s shock and annoyance was obvious. No! He is a thief and likely worse, and we need all that we can get from him. Small loss to the world that he leaves it and this will keep us from having to feed again for a few days, Rachel!
Soon the man’s body was dropped, right after Maria licked at his wounds and Rachel watched in amazement as they slowly closed over and vanished.
Will he rise as a vampire, later? I know you don’t expect it, but could it happen somehow? I don’t want to be responsible for an epidemic of vampires all over Europe.
Neither do I, but no, there is no danger of that. Turning someone takes a lot of blood and that is the last thing I have in mind! We have much to do before such a thing could even be considered!
Rachel stood staring at the body until Maria became annoyed and prodded her to get moving. The last thing we need is some official or anyone else to come by and see you standing over a dead man’s body, you fool! Now, move!
Rachel fled the alley and went back to the room they had rented. Her guilt bothered Maria but nothing was said. Rachel wasn’t just guilty. What bothered her most was that she had enjoyed draining the man’s blood and actually wanted to do it again.
The next evening Rachel found herself awakened at around five in the afternoon, the sun not quite set. We do not rise at the exact crack of dusk or fall over at dawn, Rachel! Avoiding the sunlight is the main concern.
They continued in the car, until they came to a signpost and Maria became animated. Sibiu! Yes, let us go there. I would love to see it, again! I am sure that it has changed much.
Sibiu was the capital of Transylvania, so I’d assume you’ve been there of course.
Certainly, I even lived there for a time. She brushed his thoughts, briefly. Ah, then to Arad and finally to Budapest! A good plan, I agree. You think to get our ID there, eh?
Yes, it’s a large city and it is also the capital of Hungary so we should be able to find someone to help us out. If you can, you know, put the whammy on some officials we might get a flight out there, too.
Maria dissolved in laughter once again. The ‘whammy’, Rachel?
Rachel blushed but soon joined Maria in giggles. Well, whatever you call it!
Rachel laughed so long and hard she hiccuped a few times, which set Maria off yet again.
Beyond the bizarre nature of the changes Rachel had been through, and the still unresolved issue of killing to feed, one thing became clear. Rachel and Maria were bonding and becoming close friends.
Rachel we are very close and I do consider us best of friends. We will work things out, I have no doubt. Now, we must purchase some clothing and supplies. I for one do not intend to go about Europe dressed in a peasant’s farm dress for the rest of our existence!
Sibiu astounded Maria, silencing her for the most part. She had Rachel look around often, and marveled at how the city had changed. Nothing much was the same as in her time. It was called Hermannstadt for a long time. Mostly German people lived here.
Yes, most emigrated back to Germany in the last sixty years or so.
They came to the part called The Lower Town and the sights became slightly familiar to Maria. Rachel could tell she was pleased to recognize an old church and some towers.
Rachel drove back to a hotel she had stayed at before and checked in. After handling that, she ran into a problem — selling the gold coins for Euros or some other currency would be hard to do limited to night-time only.
It is simple, Rachel. We wait for a rainy day and we go late in the afternoon. It will not be a problem.
Rachel accepted that, telling Maria: Alright, you are the experienced vampire here, so we’ll try that sometime in the next few days.
They spent two days in the luxurious hotel that Rachel had picked out for them. Both Rachel and Maria enjoyed decadent baths, tasted expensive wines, and enjoyed being pampered by the staff. Maria insisted on quite a lot of television time. She and Rachel watched countless movies, including Dracula, and any other vampire movies that they could find.
They ended up in quite a few discussions after watching such movies. Maria remarked, after Dracula ended, that being able to turn into a wolf, a bat, or even mist would be an incredibly handy thing to have available.
One of the Hammer Films was on and they watched it, as well. Taste the Blood of Dracula made Maria snort, giggle, and at times rant in disgust. This is so silly. This Dracula is an imbecile. They make the so-called King of Vampires into some foolish oaf who discards his servants and helpers left and right and so brings about his own end! Bah!
It’s a product of its time, Maria. It is not particularly good, but it gives you a good indication of what vampire films are like.
Yes, as I said after examining your memories, Rachel — the fictions about vampires make them weak or stupid, or they have some easily exploited weakness such as running water or crosses. So transparent and pathetic, is it not?
Now that I can see it through your eyes, yes, I have to agree!
One of the movies they watched was Star Wars, and if Rachel expected Maria to be blown away by it, she was sadly disappointed.
Oh, it was fantastical, Rachel! But the story itself is as old as me! Just retold in a different setting.
Rachel was shocked to find she could drink wine and eat food. Maria explained that the wine’s taste was the point, and that the alcohol would not affect Rachel in the slightest. Food did nothing for her, either. Some tastes, like chocolate, were still good. Maria discouraged her from eating very much, as she found having to use a toilet bothersome and would rather not deal with it any longer. It was Rachel’s turn to be amused at Maria, for a change.
Three hundred years old and afraid to go to the bathroom? Really, Maria?
Bah! That is something that I left behind when I turned, and good riddance to it.
The next day Rachel awoke at four in the afternoon and looked out to find overcast skies and intermittent showers. Maria was delighted, as this would be their opportunity to cash in the gold coins and do some shopping.
Their first stop was an antique dealer specializing in old coins, gold, silver, and other precious metals. The proprietor was excited over the old coins, and happily purchased a dozen of them for what Rachel considered to be a fair price. Loaded with Euros they left the shop and saw the shopkeeper locking up after them. The sun was soon to set, judging by the clocks around. But the overcast skies hinting at rain made it safe for them to be out and about.
After hours of trying on various dresses, tops, bottoms, bras, panties, boots, shoes, panty hose and stockings, Rachel decided that Maria was quite vain.
Of course I am, Rachel! We have a beautiful body and you would not drape rags over a palace window and call them curtains, would you?
Rachel admitted that she would not, but was still amused at the endless shopping and finickiness displayed by Maria. She seemed to be in her element and not more than once did Rachel fear their money would soon be exhausted.
Maria had her staring at every woman that crossed their path so that she could see what styles were worn and what class each woman was from. When Rachel tried to explain that there were not, exactly, classes any more it brought a snort from the ancient woman.
Do not be silly, Rachel. Look at that woman, there, cleaning those windows. She is a laborer and dresses the part. Now look over there at that bank. See the woman standing there waiting on a taxi? She is wealthy and knows it. Look at how she looks at others. See how different she dresses. Bah, you know all of this! You just never LOOKED closely before.
You are right, I never really considered it. Men do it, too, sure. I just never looked at women’s fashion and thought much about it.
You will be looking and wearing a lot more, Rachel. I want to project a wealthy woman’s appearance, I think. It will do more for us than anything, unless I am quite mistaken. But not too wealthy, we do not wish to attract attention, either.
There still aren’t classes, anymore, really Maria. Society has advanced far while you slept.
This brought laughter and derision from Maria. Then you are far more blind than I thought, Rachel. Peasants will always be peasants. Lords and Ladies, the same. Humans have not changed one whit! Only the terms have changed for what they do and who they are.
That is just not true, Maria! Your peasants’ lives were short and brutal and they barely kept themselves fed. They were fodder for the aristocracy to spend in war or to tax and oppress. We do not allow that, any more.
That brought a snort of derision from Maria. Your people in this century have this ridiculous notion that every man and woman is the equal to every other in all things. This egalitarianism you all practice, I find it childish and naíve. Tell me Rachel; was that thief that we killed in the alley your equal? You, who have a degree in Medieval History that you spent a large sum and four years of your life to achieve?
I just had more opportunities than he did, Maria. If he had the same ones as I, he could have gotten a degree and improved himself just as easily. It is all a matter of opportunity given or not given.
You do not believe that, Rachel! You are not stupid. Some are born to lead — born to greatness. Others are born to follow. I have seen it happen in countless villages and towns. Peasants gather and select a leader for themselves. They typically choose the man who is smarter and who sees things clearer than they. This is how communities and nations are built. The thief in the alley, the rapist prowling through the streets, the toughs who murder for fun — they will never aspire to be anything more than the scum that they are.
Maria you were in the aristocracy so perhaps that influences your view that —
Do not patronize me, Rachel! I have spent hundreds of years amidst every possible kind of person that you could imagine. Whores, thieves, murderers, lords, ladies, priests, orphans, builders, blacksmiths… I could go on for hours listing all of the people that I have spent time with and gotten to know well.
Maria spoke with passion and authority, and Rachel honestly was enjoying their debate.
Rachel, what is a Lord, a Mayor, a Duke? He was often a man who saw what needed to be done, and organized people for common defense, or to make sure the grain was planted, harvested, and safely stored. He made sure that thieves and bandits did not molest his people. Humans need leaders. Yes, I know you are now thinking of Stalin and Mao and Hitler and many other deplorable despots to throw at me. Those were not leaders, Rachel! They were thugs who ruled through fear and butchery. There is a difference.
Next you will be telling me that Kings and Queens ruled by Divine Right.
Bah! I do not speak of royalty but of leadership. Humans crave order and someone to follow, you know this! Your study of history, if nothing else, should have taught you that. Without leadership, there is only the rule of the mob. Vicious and nasty and it only leads to death. Mob rule is pure chaos and the end is always grim.
Rachel felt the strange sensation that accompanied Maria prowling through her memories and soon enough Maria had more ammunition. Every time there is a natural disaster, Rachel, what happens? I see memories of many in your mind and each time people loot, burn, rape, and kill. Every single time, Rachel! Your society is not so stable or as advanced as you would paint it. The least upset brings it down to a level below the society in my own time! Do you deny this?
No, I don’t deny it, Maria. I just think that you have this elitist view that some people are greater than others, and I just can’t agree with that. Are you saying that some are just born greater or maybe you mean that that the privileges and opportunities one is given determine that? I’d agree with the latter view.
Nature versus nurture, as you have heard it referred to? Perhaps, we can agree somewhat on that. But regardless of birthplace or birthright, there will always be the nobles and the peasants. The terms change but the mindset of humanity does not.
After returning to the hotel, Rachel found that the vast selection of clothing that Maria had chosen would project a modern-day businesswoman or perhaps a vacationing woman of leisure. Nothing about the clothing was slutty nor was it screaming wealth.
Rachel was soon sporting a pencil skirt and a stunning print top with a matching jacket. Ankle boots and stockings completed her look. She gazed at herself in the bedroom’s door-length mirror and was in awe. “I look incredible!”
Yes, Rachel, you certainly do! You look like the wealthier women we have observed but not too wealthy! People should treat you well but not get too interested, I hope. We have a nice selection to choose from, and we will add more as time goes by. Now, get those magazines out with all of the fashion and models and makeup and we will learn the proper looks and more importantly you will learn how to copy them. And this ‘laptop’ you bought, I wish to see what this ‘Internet’ is, and what it will do for us.
Rachel sat in her room in the hotel and argued with Maria about feeding for a while, and managed to put the Duchess off, for now. Instead, she let Maria “drive” their body and brush out her brown hair until it shone. Seeing the brush triggered more memories from the cabin and Maria remarked: You need to get over this… this… repugnance you feel about how we must survive. It is who you are now, who WE are.
I am dealing with being a woman, now. I think I am dealing with it quite well, considering. But the feeding really bothers me, Maria. I wish that I could just take a little and leave them alive.
The reflection in the mirror had perfect makeup that highlighted her natural beauty and enhanced it. With Maria’s help she had learned her lessons well. It almost seemed natural. Of course, they had gone through two entire bottles of makeup remover, a bottle of foundation, and put quite a dent in several trays of different eye-shadow colors. On the dresser beside all of the makeup was a brand new laptop with several makeup instruction sites opened in the web browser.
Maria has insisted that Rachel look not just good, but perfect. Rachel couldn’t argue with the results. In the mirror was a woman that Richard or just about any man would find stunning.
I look like a supermodel, now! I can’t believe that, it is just incredible. I also half-expected not to see a reflection in the mirror, you know.
She baited Maria, knowing that the woman tended to rant when confronted with vampire superstitions and weaknesses but she didn’t bite at all.
I would like to spend more time reading, Rachel, if you would not mind. This Josef Stalin you were thinking of... to think that the Russians, of all people, controlled half the world for a time. It astounds me! I would not expect such a thing, ever!
You really don’t like Russians do you, Maria?
Who does?
Rachel laughed and didn’t have an answer to that one.
Rachel dressed, put on makeup, and was brushing out her hair to make herself look presentable in preparation to go hunt, much as she didn’t want to. She could not argue with Maria though, she felt the hunger. Maria stopped her before they left the room and offered an interesting idea.
Rachel I would like you to ‘drive’ when we feed this time. You need to know how to do it.
Rachel paused in her brushing to explain how well that idea went over.
Listen to me! I want to let you try your notion of taking only a pint or two, then moving on. You wanted to do it, I am willing to let you if you will feed on your own, this once. Do we have a bargain?
Yes! Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it!
Very well, first you need to learn to mesmerize your victim. Rachel nodded and began brushing her hair again.
You need to make eye contact. Rachel stared into her own silvery-gray eyes and nodded, pausing with the brush.
Once you have contact you need to mentally reach out to the man or woman, and grasp their will. It is hard to explain but once you do it, you will find… Rachel? Rachel!? Rachel was staring into the mirror with a slight smile and her eyes did not seem to focus on anything.
RACHEL! Close your eyes. You fool girl, you mesmerized yourself!
Rachel shook her head and looked around sheepishly. She was blushing and felt like an idiot.
I see we have no need to train further on this subject. Maria’s tone was quite dry but tinged with amusement.
Now, when we find a likely victim you will mesmerize him and lead him to a secluded spot, then feed for a bit. You then will seal his wounds and order him to forget meeting you, and walk away. Understood, Rachel? You will have to fight to stop, girl. It is not easy but we will just have to see how you do.
Rachel nodded and hopped up, eager to try a humane feeding. Maria did not seem very excited about the prospect but offered no further comment as they headed out.
Maria, can I feed on a woman as well as a man? I know you fed on both at the cabin.
Of course you can. Men are more easily bent to your will, as there is a sexual component to the enthralling but either sex will work as well. Certain women who are more open to… closeness with other women would work just as well. Why do you ask?
I want to try with a woman!
Maria sighed and agreed. Very well, we likely need a whore, then. Do not be shocked, that is the easiest route for us. But a man would be far easier.
Rachel didn’t have a problem with this, but she suspected that Maria did. There was not a single reply or emotion in response to her pondering though, so she didn’t worry and focused on their mission.
After some searching they found the local ‘red-light’ district and found plenty of girls of various ages congregating on several streets. Rachel picked out a girl with blonde hair and very large breasts, earning a sniff of disdain from Maria. Rachel glanced around carefully to make sure that nobody was paying close attention to the upcoming transaction.
The girl got in the car and Rachel waved a hundred Euros at her. She smiled, nodded, and they drove off to the local park for some privacy. Rachel drove around until finding a lane that was deserted and parked the car, shutting off the engine.
The girl asked “Lesbiana?” and Rachel nodded. The girl nodded in return and smiled.
She then asked “Ce vrei?” Rachel knew enough Romanian to know she wanted to know what Rachel wanted to do.
“Doar saruta” (just kissing) she replied. The girl nodded happily and smiled again. This seemed an easy and quick hundred euros to her.
Rachel sensed several emotions from Maria; amusement, exasperation, and oddly enough, worry. She dismissed that and mesmerized the girl. Soon the girl was glassy eyed and her stare was vacant and Rachel made her move.
Her fangs plunged into the girl’s neck and soon she was sucking greedily at the wounds. The blood was delicious and her body felt the glow as she drank. Maria kept trying to talk to her but Rachel paid no attention and Maria faded to a distant buzz as she gulped more and more blood.
She came to her senses and found the girl slumped in the seat, nearly dead. Rachel licked the girl’s neck and watched as her body fell over, dead. She was horrified and waited on Maria to lash out at her for her idiocy. But that did not happen.
I am truly sorry, Rachel. I tried to reach you but the bloodlust was too strong for me to overcome. And I dared not try to take control! We know what happens when I try that. This is not your fault, you are not experienced enough to stop yourself, yet. In time, you will be able to, however.
Rachel started crying while Maria talked, and she got the sense that Maria wished to hug her and ease her pain. Maria did seem to understand her remorse and horror, at least.
Of course I understand, Rachel. I went through this for a time after I was turned. My first few victims left me guilty for a while. But in time I was able to shrug it off and it no longer bothered me.
Maria don’t you understand? I WANT it to bother me. I don’t approve of killing people just to eat lunch! It’s wrong, and it will always be wrong to me.
I do not completely understand your reasons, Rachel, but I do respect them. We will work to try to avoid killing as we can. And, when feeding we will try to limit ourselves to the more… unsavory and dangerous elements, perhaps? As we discussed? I do not want you to feel such hurt when you feed, Rachel.
Thank you, Maria. I can live with that, for now.
Good! We need to put her body in the bushes and flee this place before someone notices anything.
Rachel was driving away from the park when Maria surprised her yet again.
Let us go to where they store blood. We should try that, as well. I promised you we would seek out and try this, and we will.
Rachel was quite delighted with this proposal and regained some of her good cheer. She headed for the local hospital.
After mesmerizing a nurse, Rachel soon found herself in the hospital’s blood storage area. She instructed the nurse to go back to work and forget that he’d seen her. She pulled one of the small plastic bags of blood out of the refrigerated storage and looked at it. Well, here goes nothing!
Her fangs pierced the soft plastic and she began to drink. She immediately noticed that the taste of it was slightly off, and it did not quite provide the quick energy of live victims. Maria noted this herself and said, This blood would do in an emergency, Rachel. But, we cannot live drinking only this chilled blood. It has lost something by being stored, I believe. It is… ah, empty calories, yes? Filling but not nutritious!
Rachel nodded sadly, as she completely understood what Maria was saying and could feel the truth of it herself. I know, Maria. Thank you for letting me try this option, though!
There is no need to thank me, Rachel. I want us to survive and work together to find a safe haven where we can live in peace and have options. For instance, I think that having a supply of this blood on hand would be good for emergencies. It would sustain you for a time if there was not another choice available.
Rachel smiled, seeing that Maria was honestly making an effort to accommodate her morals and feelings.
Maria was silent for a time, and Rachel made her way back out of the hospital. As she reached the car and got in, Maria surprised her.
Rachel, things are so different now than when I was turned. Death was so common then that families had children almost yearly and could only hope that half of them grew up. Plague, war, wild animals, and yes even vampires, made life a short and brutal thing for most.
Rachel interrupted. But you were a noble, so your life and the lives of your peers wasn’t near as bad as it was for the peasant class?
Maria snorted. It was bad enough, Rachel! You have studied history but I lived it. Disease was rampant, even among the nobles. Teeth rotted out, hearts gave out, and food was scarce even at times for the wealthy. The peasant considered thirty to be old. We nobles, maybe age fifty at best, often. And always there was war. Why do you think I was happy to become a vampire, Rachel? So, if you and I are to do well in this century, I must adapt. You must, as well, Rachel.
What do you mean?
I mean that yes, I will adapt and we will not kill unless there is need. You must accept, however, that at times there will be such need.
Rachel smiled and nodded. Maria was working with her to the best of her ability, so could Rachel not do the same? I will adapt, Maria!
I am changing, Rachel, as you are too. I don’t sense this as a bad thing, though. Very strange, yes. But… not a bad thing, at all.
Rachel had no answer to that, but had a broad smile on her face, echoing both herself and Maria’s feelings, as they headed back to their hotel.
The Duchess of Arad, Chapter 4
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The Duchess of Arad
Chapter 4
by Jenny Sugar
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar All Rights Reserved. |
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Rachel arrived in Arad and the first order of business was a meal, of course. She began to think that her eternal life would mostly be spent sucking stranger’s necks.
Maria was not amused. Rachel it is a small price to pay for what we gain!
I admit that eternal life is nice, but-
No, Rachel! Eternal youth and beauty, not just life! You did not grow up and age as a woman so you have no idea how heartbreaking it is watching your beauty fade year after year!
You didn’t have to experience that, Maria.
No, but I have seen plenty of older women and we all know that we share their fate. Beyond that, our speed, strength, healing power, vision, and hearing are all improved. There is so much more than just living forever.
They chose a car thief that they caught breaking into a vehicle in a dark parking garage. Rachel steeled herself to watch yet another death but was surprised when Maria only took a few pints. It left the man unconscious, but alive.
Maria I am so proud of you for letting him live! Thank you, my friend!
It was nothing. I just need to practice not taking too much. I did it with my thralls when I fed on my favorites.
Rachel looked around the garage and decided that her rental car sucked and it was time to go car shopping for something more suitable for their travels. Richard’s rental car was small and was becoming quite crowded with the results of Maria’s shopping spree, so Rachel decided to return it to the rental agency and visit some dealerships.
After finding a dealer, she prowled through the rows of cars at the dealership, looking for something sporty yet practical. Practical began to win out over sporty when she considered all of the clothing, makeup, jewelry, and shoes Maria was collecting. The shoes alone would soon need their own trailer, if she didn’t slow down. That thought earned her an amused giggle from Maria.
Rachel ended up choosing a 2010 Dacia Duster, a nice SUV built by a Romanian car company that was now owned by Renault. It was roomy and had all-wheel drive, and of course she was able to get a fantastic price from the dealer once eye contact had been made. She convinced him to tint the windows to the maximum allowed by law in Europe.
I do not know if this ‘tinting’ will work, Rachel — but it was a good idea and we can test it!
I am hoping that with the tint, large sunglasses, and some heavy-duty sunblock we can travel in the day some, Maria. You’ve hinted that we don’t have to sleep that often?
No, just occasionally is good, Rachel. We appear to need some rest, but I have gone weeks without sleep and did not suffer many ill effects. During my captivity that is all that I did for the most part was sleep. Well, it was more like hibernation I suppose. I only awakened occasionally and… it was strange, Rachel. I still have faint memories of someone visiting me down there.
I don’t see how, Maria. The tunnel that I fell into had not been disturbed for centuries. Rachel shared her memory of entering the hallway then falling and finding the door and opening it to find Maria.
Yes, you are correct. The entrance was not disturbed the entire time that I was there. Maybe I dreamed of visitors because I was lonely.
After the car was purchased, they spent the better part of the evening and night cruising around Arad, mostly so that Maria could visit some of her old haunts. She was unusually quiet and Rachel contented herself to just drive where directed and let her companion take in the sights.
She had Rachel stop at an old building and was silent for a time. What is that building, Maria?
That was the Clădirea Preparandiei, a training school. Teachers who taught the Romanian language were trained here. It was built in 1812.
I assume you visited it, perhaps as a student?
Maria laughed. No, no. I helped fund it, Rachel.
Rachel was driving along the highway towards Budapest when Maria made an odd request of her.
Rachel, would you let me drive? The car, I mean? It looks fun, and I have never done such a thing before!
Umm, well, okay if you wish. Do you need me to explain how it all works?
No, Rachel I have watched you. The right pedal makes it go faster and the left slows you down. The wheel makes you turn left or right. I can do this.
Rachel nodded and let Maria take control. The car wobbled a bit as she got the feel of how the steering wheel operated, but soon she was doing fine.
She allowed Maria to drive while she took in the sights, but soon began to worry when she noticed that the sights were flashing by at a very rapid rate.
Uh, Maria? You’re doing 170!
Is that bad? I love this driving, it is fun!
That’s like one hundred miles per hour! Slow down you will get us killed!
You forget how hard to kill we are, Rachel.
Maria if we wrecked I could get beheaded or burned alive.
Oh. I see, yes. How fast should I go then? And I watch this little stick and it points to our speed. How clever!
Keep it below 110, please?
You really are a killjoy, Rachel.
After a four hour drive, Rachel found herself in Budapest, Hungary. Thanks to the European Union and their open borders, there was no issue at all crossing into Hungary. The concept of open borders in the EU was a shock to Maria but she was pleased that it made things easier for them. Rachel and Maria both enjoyed touring the city and seeing all the sights.
Rachel had explained to Maria in more detail about passports, identification, and the troubles that it could cause for her if she did not have any.
Rachel and Maria, after some debate, decided to go with United States citizenship. Rachel knew the country well, and they both felt that it was their best eventual destination. Maria claimed that they would never want for anything, or need to worry about monetary matters, and Rachel understood this so didn’t worry much about that aspect of things.
Rachel looked for and soon found the United States Embassy and had wisely chosen an overcast rainy day to explore. Upon entering, very little effort got her to the Ambassador’s office. After mesmerizing the Ambassador she gave him orders to speak nothing but the truth and to help her in any way that he could.
“You can get me a valid US Passport, yes?”
The man smiled and answered. “Oh, yes we most certainly can, Ms. Harrison. We just have to fill out some paperwork and I have to attest to your Birth Certificate, then-“
“You have seen my Birth Certificate, and it was valid. Do you need a copy or can you do this without it?”
“Umm, there really needs to be a copy filed with your other info…” The man looked very doubtful and Rachel cursed to herself. “I am sorry, ma’am, but ever since 9-11 security requirements have been much more stringent.”
What is the matter, Rachel? What is this 9-11? Wait, ah I see. Terrible tragedy, to use these airplanes to do such a thing!
Rachel was frustrated. I am not sure what to do now! If I push him hard he might come up with something but I am worried that when we actually try to use it things will fall apart fast.
I have an idea on that, Rachel. Thank him and make him forget you and let us go.
Rather than continue on or chase paperwork, Maria surprised Rachel by asking about nightclubs, and if they could visit one.
I was never one to go to such places, Maria. I am sure Budapest would have a few, well more than a few. The Hungarians that I’ve known did like to party.
Good. I saw these nightclubs on the television and it looked fun! I used to dance often when I was younger. Also, perhaps they would be a good place to hunt. Let us find one and visit.
The music was a pounding nightclub beat and Rachel’s entire body throbbed with the bass line in each song. The smoke in the air was thick and heavy, and it seemed every man and woman in the place was smoking. Rachel waved at the smoke in annoyance. Maria probed her mind to see what was wrong and was soon laughing.
It harms them but it certainly cannot harm us, Rachel! I agree that it smells bad but just ignore it. We are here to have fun, and perhaps snack a bit, yes?
Rachel agreed and she moved through the mass of people dancing. She was looking for a corner to hide in. Richard was very shy and had never once been in a nightclub and avoided bars and other such places in his lifetime. Though she was now Rachel, and a very beautiful woman, she only wanted to park in a chair somewhere and watch.
Maria didn’t like that at all and asked Rachel if she could drive while in this club. Rachel quickly gave her assent and soon Maria was on the floor dancing with the people there. Maria was having the time of her life flailing about to the music and Rachel noted that Maria was copying the best female dancers and doing it perfectly.
She had attracted quite a following and soon had several men vying to buy her a drink. Rachel simply observed as Maria picked one and led him to a darker corner of the club and into a booth. Soon they were kissing and making out, and Rachel fought down her discomfort at actually kissing a man.
To Rachel’s horror, Maria asked her if they could take him back to the hotel and have some more intimate fun. Rachel’s response sent Maria into peals of laughter, but she agreed that they would not do that, now.
Before Rachel knew it, Maria had the man in a trance, drained about a pint, licked his wounds closed, and resumed kissing him. Rachel felt a certain smugness from Maria, as she showed her how it was done. The man was sent off to dance, with orders to eat something soon.
Maria that was… incredible! You stopped so easily — after barely a pint, while I could not!
I would not say that it was easy, Rachel, but then again I’ve had much experience at this. I wish to dance some more!
Filled with energy from her brief snack, she hopped up and rushed back to the dance floor, a grin on her face and feeling more alive than she ever had in her existence. Rachel, too, felt much the same way.
Rachel was wearing a Little Black Dress cut way too short in her own opinion, a bit too long in Maria’s. She’d been a bit shocked that a woman from the 17th century was not more reserved in her clothing style.
This only brought raucous laughter from Maria.
Maria was not choosy about her dance partners at all, dancing with men and women and being felt up by both genders on many occasions. This would bring a smile or a musical laugh and Maria would often return the grope. Rachel simply took it all in, knowing that she had a lot to learn about being a woman.
Maria danced the night away, feeding once more and again only taking a small amount and sending her prey away with a smile, no memory of what happened, and an urge to eat some food.
Rachel was beyond pleased with Maria’s new feeding habits and said so, also praising her for making their prey eat so as to help replenish the missing blood.
Maria’s response was warm and happy. I am doing well at this, Rachel! It is a new thing, yes, but it accomplishes what we wish in many ways. It soothes your conscience, it feeds us, and it attracts no attention! Win-win you would call it, yes?
Yes, I would! You know, Maria, you are always surprising me.
How so?
The dancing at the club, I would never have suspected that you’d be a dancer or that you’d adapt so quickly to modern music and dancing. There is so much more to you than I could have imagined when we first met.
I will take that as a compliment, Rachel. I loved to dance as a girl, and I never lost my love of it. And you must realize that most people have many facets, but even so, after I was turned I did many things and I always looked for new things to do and learn. I embraced change when I could. What about you? You acted as if we were entering a wolves den when we arrived but I think you had fun, as well?
Yes, I have to admit that I enjoyed myself, Maria!
Good, eventually I’d like to be with a man, again. You could let me drive and you could just watch if you wanted to. It has been so long, and I miss it.
Rachel told her that she’d consider it but she still felt revulsion at the idea. She was also beginning to see that Maria was not some one-dimensional horror-movie creature but was instead was a very complex and passionate woman, vampire or not.
As she came to her hotel room she started to unlock the door with the pass card when she sensed something strange. Maria did as well but thought it might be people in the next room. Rachel shrugged acceptance, swiped the card and opened the door.
“Muri vampir jegos!” The man cried as he rushed forward with his sharp stake. Rachel was stunned but that allowed Maria to take charge and she used her arm in a quick block to shove the stake to the side. Within a few seconds Rachel grasped what the man had said with shock: “Die filthy vampire!”
The hulking man snarled and backed away, stake back up and pointed at Rachel’s heart. Rachel felt her fangs descend and hiss at the man. Maria tried to make eye contact but he would have none of it. He rushed her again and this time Maria kicked him in the chest, sending him flying across the room into the sofa.
He hit and flipped over it to the other side, landing with a crash and destroying the table. Maria wasted no time and leaped over the sofa and onto him, trying to make eye contact. He would not look her in the eye and struggled to throw her off. To Rachel’s surprise he succeeded and was up with his stake coming for her once again.
“Cacat cu ochi!” Maria yelled at the man, and when Rachel worked that one out she was amazed that Maria would use such language. The man snarled and tried to run her through and got knocked across the room again for his trouble. “Shit with eyes,” Maria, really?
There was no response as the man was back at her again. Rachel did not for a second contemplate taking over, as Maria was doing a fine job fending off their attacker. He switched tactics and Rachel’s vision crossed momentarily as the thick stake smashed into the side of her head, knocking her a few feet across the room. Maria shook her head and caught the stake as it was being shoved at her chest.
The man howled “vampir curva!” which Rachel instantly picked up, “Vampire whore!” and tried to yank his stake back from Maria. She grinned at him, fangs still out, and would not release it. The man cocked his arm back and punched her in the face, knocking her back several feet and Rachel was seeing stars for just a moment. The man was incredibly strong.
Maria yelled “de ce?” but asking the man “What for?” got her no answer but another rush towards her with the stake. She flipped him back over the sofa, and this time when he stood up he had his original stake and a broken-off table leg to use as a second stake.
He stalked towards Maria and paused, looking for an opening. Once more he rushed forward with both stakes raised, one aimed for her heart and the table leg for her eyes.
Maria once again sent the man flying with a snarl, and Rachel could tell her anger was building up to rage-level. Oh, you have no idea, Rachel!
The man panted and stared at Rachel’s chest with pure hatred, not willing to look her in the eye. Maria growled and stalked forward, intent on ending things. The man circled her and looked as if he was waiting on an opening. They circled and watched for nearly a minute when with a roar the man swung the stake at Maria’s arm, knocking it aside.
He shoved her hard, knocking Maria back against the wall, then raised the stake and ran at her, intent to plunge it in her heart. She moved faster than he could see, and he ended up impaling the wall instead. She immediately kicked him across the room, but his stake came with him, still clutched in his hand. She ran after.
This ends, now.
Before he could raise the stake she leaped upon his body, reached in with her nails and ripped his throat. He coughed up blood, which she ignored. She spit in his face and backed away to watch him die.
Um, Maria? Shouldn’t we, you know, drink that blood?
She didn’t answer but her emotions told Rachel the intent. It was her version of a grave insult to let him bleed to death in front of her while refusing to drink.
She repeated her demand to know why he was attacking but he ignored her. He still would not allow eye contact and was soon beyond any contact.
Rachel walked over to the sofa and dropped down, exhausted. She’d have preferred to drink from their unknown attacker despite Maria’s wishes — the fight left her feeling weak and hungry. The irony of her wanting to feed while Maria refused to was not lost on Rachel, or apparently Maria, who snorted but didn’t say anything.
After resting for a time, Maria finally spoke to Rachel. I hope that you noticed that our friend here screamed “Die filthy vampire!” before we had even fully entered the room?
Yes, I did notice that. Very odd, isn’t it?
ODD? You have a gift for stating the obvious, Rachel! Tell me, how did he know you were a vampire?
Rachel was silent, trying to figure that one out.
Indeed, it is a puzzle, no? He was not in the nightclub. I would have noted and remembered a brute that size! I do not like puzzles that could end my existence - and yours as well.
Neither do I, Maria.
We had best leave tonight, Rachel. I do not like this, at all. Nobody should know what we are and yet this man came, recognized you as a vampire, and had a sharpened stake ready to attack. Search his body, let us see if there is anything to indicate his origin?
Rachel searched his body and found nothing whatsoever. Neither of them liked that, either.
Shall we head to Prague, then, Maria?
Yes, to Prague. How long to drive it?
About five hours, roughly, I’d say.
Let us leave, now. We are being hunted, Rachel.
They spent most of the drive to Prague debating about their hotel room visitor and how he could have known she was a vampire, where her room was, and also knew not to look her in the eyes. This troubled them both but they could not come up with a plausible explanation for what had happened.
Prague was much like Budapest, in that Maria wanted to see the city and they spent hours driving around, taking in all that there was to see.
Do you speak Czech, Maria?
No, I never learned it. But it will be fine, Rachel. Everyone seems to know English these days as their second language, yes? And I would guess that many of these Czechs know German, besides. We will do well.
You never visited here, did you?
No. During my time this was part of Hungary and I never travelled this far north.
They spent much time driving around Prague, looking for what Maria had in mind. Rachel let Maria question quite a few people after she put them under her spell, and soon they were pulling up to a modest-sized building, about five stories tall. They went in, leaving a trail of admirers and finally ended up with the local crime boss they’d hoped to find.
Maria addressed the man in German. “I need a passport and a European Driver’s License, as fast as you can get them. And they need to be real, not fake ones that are easily spotted.”
The man smiled at his new goddess on earth and nodded. “I will have these for you in twenty four hours, my Lady. We need to take a picture and write down some information.”
You see, Rachel? As you would say, a piece of cake.
You’re getting the hang of modern idioms, Maria!
I suppose that I am. But whatever does that MEAN?!
Rachel sighed.
As Rachel was walking along the street, the rain stopped but luckily the sun did not come out. She wasn’t overly worried as she had large sunglasses on, a scarf, and sunscreen. As she strolled along, looking at old buildings she was approached by a beggar. As she was about to brush him off Maria demanded that she give the beggar a coin, so she did. The man smiled his gratitude and scurried away.
Ok… why?
Rachel you have often considered me a monster but you need to realize that no one is pure evil or pure good. I always have given to those less fortunate than myself. I feel that it is my duty as a noble, a person of wealth, to help those who suffer and are in need.
He will probably spend it on booze or drugs, Maria. It was a waste.
You do not know that, Rachel! And even if he did, it brings him some small measure of happiness. That is a thing that is precious in this world. You have always felt morally superior to me — do not deny it! And yet you can be so callous and cold to people.
Next you will be telling me that you donated to orphanages!
I did.
Rachel decided to let Maria have the last word on this one.
They went back the next evening and soon Rachel sported a shiny new Driver’s License and a valid passport for one Rachel Maria Harrison. She was from Romania, of American parents. This would allow her free travel and help avoid sticky situations with the police.
Maria kept staring at the License once they went back to the hotel room, and expressed amazement that this license was needed to prove who you are to the world and that you were capable of driving a car.
Rachel was sleeping soundly when something caused her to awaken, becoming immediately alert. She sensed someone nearby in some fashion. She also heard the door lock click and the door was eased open slowly.
The room was pitch black, as it was 4 AM and she’d just gotten into bed a little while earlier. Maria had demanded to visit a nightclub in Prague and they’d danced, and fed, nearly all night. Rachel had enjoyed herself nearly as much as Maria, and had finally managed to take some blood without killing the man. He’d passed out from blood loss but Maria said that he would be fine after some rest and food. They had come back happy and ready to rest.
Luckily her night vision was excellent, and Rachel could see into the infrared spectrum quite easily now.
She saw four men slipping into the room as quietly as they could. To her their breathing was loud but she doubted that they knew that. They were all carrying extremely thick chains. Not a single stake was to be seen. Her first thought was ninjas.
Ninjas? Japanese martial artists? I think not, Rachel. Hmm, these men have chains. They mean to capture us! We need to question one, this time. Allow me?
Rachel gladly handed control of their body to Maria without hesitation. True, she was learning more and more, but this was best left to her experience.
Maria chose the man furthest on the left and gathered herself to leap when he reached her chosen spot. As soon as he had taken another quiet step she leaped and landed on the man and they both tumbled to the floor.
Rachel knew Maria was serious when she clawed his throat open and then leaped to the man closest. This one she forced back to the entrance and beat his head rapidly against the door till he was unconscious.
The two remaining men wasted no time and dived at her with their chains. On each chain was a manacle and they nearly managed to close on around her wrist before she took the chain away. She used it as a weapon and spun it in circles, snarling at the men.
“Why are you here? What do you want with me?” she yelled in English.
The lead man replied in English with a slight Russian accent. “We do not intend to kill you, Maria! Surrender and you will not be killed. This I promise you.”
Her answer was to wrap the chain around the man’s throat and jerk, hard. Rachel heard his neck snap. The final member of the quartet had switched tactics and was trying to sneak a manacle around her ankle. As a reward he got a boot heel in his face, kicked with so much force he flew backwards, blood pouring from his face. She leaped on him before he could move and was soon draining him, fast. Need energy.
Maria tossed the man aside and turned back to the man she’d left unconscious in the entry area. He was gone.
“Fute!”
Maria walked over to the bed and sat down, still cursing out loud.
Rachel timidly voiced her own thoughts to Maria. Maria, he knew your name!
Her response was dry, rather than angry. I had noticed that, yes, Rachel. Do all Americans go around stating the obvious all of the time? “The sky is blue, the water is wet!”
Rachel was not amused at all. Very funny, Maria. Ha ha. I’ll laugh if we make it another day without being staked or chained up. Did it also cross your mind that this bunch has found us twice now?
Of that, I am not so sure, Rachel. The first one only wanted us dead. This group wanted to capture us. Yes, both the first man and these men dressed identically… but I do wonder if they are the same group.
They sounded Russian.
Yes they did.
Is that good or bad?
With Russians it is probably bad.
What’s up with you and Russians, anyway?
Maria sent Rachel the memory of the Russian priests chaining her up under the castle.
Oh. Sorry.
The Duchess of Arad, Chapter 5
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The Duchess of Arad
Chapter 5
by Jenny Sugar
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar All Rights Reserved. |
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They spent a day sleeping in Nuremburg with no incidents or sightings of the hunters and Rachel relaxed a bit. Rather than sight-see as per usual, Maria agreed that they should move on and soon the SUV was entering Frankfurt.
Rachel was slightly surprised that Maria seemed to have no prejudice against Germans while nearly always had something bad to say about Russians. Maria thought this silly and elaborated.
Rachel there was no World Wars when I was around, as you know. Your emotions are colored by the history that you grew up with. Of course I can access your studies about the Second World War and share your outrage at the atrocities. We have done much reading and I feel that I am catching up on events well. World War Two was horrifying, yes. However, I never really had any bad relations with Germans.
There were the Teutonic Knights, of course. Stinky bunch, you know that they never bathed? An enemy might well throw down their swords and run when faced with that stench! Ugh! The French were far more of a conquering nation back then. Napoleon took over quite a bit of Europe, as you know. Who is to say that if circumstances were different, another people could not have taken as much as Germany and committed atrocities of their own?
Rachel nodded because Maria had a good point. However, Maria, I don’t think a Hitler would have gotten quite as far in France, or even Russia. Germany was broke and the people were desperate for a leader who could get them out of the mess they were in.
Ah, yes, they were. But Rachel, who is responsible for making this mess in the first place, eh? The nations who wanted to punish Germany for World War One, yes? Inflicting horrendous reparation payments on them, taking away their right to an Army or much of any fighting force?
And what, exactly, did the Germans do that was so wrong in that war? They were on the losing side along with Austria-Hungary, of course. From all of our reading and your memories I think that the winning side went too far in punishing Germany.
You cannot wreck a nation’s pride while at the same time nearly starve them and not expect consequences. I do not argue in favor of the Nazis! But events conspired to make things easy for them to take power.
When people are cold, hungry, and beaten down they will naturally turn to a strong leader who promises to lead them into greatness and security, Rachel. Give people hope, point them to a menace — real or imagined! - that caused their suffering and let nature take its course. Any leader who is a student of humanity and knows people and has a strong projection of leadership can lead the masses to where he wishes.
I know you’ve read a lot with me since you woke up, Maria. But I am surprised you were not shocked at the events in Europe in the twentieth century. It feels as if you almost expected it when we were reading the other night. Rachel remembered their reading about the events of the First World War, then into the Depression that followed and the events in Germany in the Thirties. She’d not been shocked at all at any of the outcomes. She’d snorted when the Russian Revolution led to the brutal thuggery and mass murders committed by Stalin, as well.
You are a student of history, Rachel. You could say that I am a student of humanity, in a way. Let a human live one hundred years and he or she could be considered very wise, yes?
Rachel nodded in agreement. Yes I agree that if their mind is still sharp, older people are usually much wiser. I had a professor in college who was nearly eighty! The man had a mind like a steel trap. He often challenged me and made me think — much as you do!
Ah, well multiply your centenarian’s age by three but keep the faculties sharp and the ability to learn and grow never atrophied and you have… me. The bible says that there is nothing new under the sun, and when speaking of humanity in general this is very true!
Now, Rachel, all this talk has made me thirsty, and I am also in the mood to dance again. Shall we see if Frankfurt has a good nightclub that we can visit?
Rachel laughed and rolled her eyes, but agreed and they went searching for a busy club.
The club they had chosen had a long line but all Rachel had to do was walk up and smile at the bouncer and she was immediately allowed to enter. She didn’t even have to put the “whammy” on him, which pleased her, somehow. Maria told her that being a beautiful woman with class who dressed in style was plenty enough and often obviated the need for any vampiric ‘help’ with men.
They danced for a while and had one snack and then the karaoke began. Rachel explained to Maria what it was about, and was not surprised that she wanted to try it. She chose a song they’d heard in several clubs, Adele’s ‘Rolling in the Deep’. To Rachel’s ears Maria sang it pitch-perfect, and obviously to the crowd’s ears as well because they got a roar of applause when it ended.
So vampires have perfect pitch, too?
Maria giggled. Rachel I do not know, but I was a good singer before I was turned.
The crowd demanded an encore and after searching for a time on the machine they found another song that Maria had learned during their clubbing. It had interested her at a club in Prague and she remembered the tune and hit every note of “I Touch Myself.” Once again, she was pitch-perfect and sounding as good as, or better, than the original singer. She stepped off the makeshift stage to thunderous applause and cries for another song. Rachel was amazed and internally applauded Maria for the performance.
I would like to sing more but I just do not know all of these songs, yet. Perhaps, someday we can do this again?
Your singing was just incredible, Maria! I always wished that I could sing well.
Rachel dear, you can sing just as well as me, you know!
I think I’d need a lot of practice, still, before I could do what you just did. I do remember someone telling me that we needed to keep a low profile, Maria. Who said that?
Some fool, I suppose! Maria dissolved into giggles and Rachel joined her.
They had been dancing some more, and had fed already upon a man in the club when a chilling sentence came from Maria. They are here. Look, over there at that corner table!
Two men, dressed all in black, were sitting at a table with heads close to each other, talking.
Maria hissed internally at Rachel: I wish to talk to them!
Rachel did not think that was a very good idea but agreed that it might get them some more information. She hated blundering around in the dark, not knowing what was going on or why they were being chased. She headed towards the men.
What if that is just two men hanging out at the club and not our pursuers?
We shall find out!
As Rachel approached the table both men stood instantly and headed for the door, ignoring her — or pretending to. Rachel followed them at a distance, cautiously. When she exited the building there was no sign of them.
They searched the parking area, the streets adjoining the club, and Maria was all for spiraling out to the next block when Rachel pronounced the men gone and got reluctant agreement. Their mood spoiled, they returned to the hotel to rest.
Rachel reached her room with no incident and had spotted nobody following them or showing any interest. Rachel felt that she was becoming paranoid and often caught herself carefully scanning every man they came near if he was tall or had a bulky build.
It is not paranoid when they really ARE out to get you! Maria agreed and didn’t laugh at her joke at all.
The next evening Rachel guided her SUV into the outskirts of Paris. The car was working out flawlessly and she was very glad she had decided to purchase it. She’d let Maria drive for a bit and while at times Maria managed to scare her, nothing bad had happened.
As she drove they continued their conversation they’d begun many kilometers back. They were also practicing with body control and so were speaking out loud. The idea had been to switch back and forth without even thinking about it. Rachel had suggested they talk to each other in this way and it was working out perfectly.
“Rachel, I don’t know how they are tracking us! It must be some magical spell?”
“I think that is the most likely thing. I’ve searched all of our belongings and the car and I cannot find anything suspicious or electronic devices of any kind. That leaves… mystical things. That is more your department than mine!”
“I think that it is very much your department now, also, Rachel. You keep forgetting that you are a vampire now as well. I am not the only spirit inhabiting an undead corpse riding into Paris, am I?”
Rachel’s laughter filled the car. Despite their constant run-ins with the homicidal hunters and the hunters who wanted to capture her, she was having the time of her life.
Rachel turned serious. “Do you have a plan, Maria? Or maybe some idea at all on what we can do? I have to confess that this stuff is way out of my league.”
“Obviously we need to be cautious and keep our eyes open, and we are doing that. Capturing one of them to enthrall and question should be our top priority, certainly. We have no information and no idea why they are doing this. And we must soon find out and find a way to put an end to this nonsense.”
“I still don’t think those two men in the club were part of this gang that is after us, Maria. If they were, wouldn’t they and maybe some others outside have jumped on us when we followed them out?”
“Perhaps you are right, Rachel. We are walking about in the darkness, blind. The next time that they appear, I intend to shed some light onto this situation and see what is going on!”
The funds were getting low so after some inquiries they made their way to one of the wealthier sections of Paris. Soon they were in a mansion with a new devoted follower. Arnaud Roussel was a multimillionaire exporter of wines, pharmaceuticals, and autos. He was delighted to tell Rachel all about it but she soon shut him up out of boredom. Deeply enthralled, he was the perfect host and gave them the run of the place, of course.
He was a widower, so they decided to spend the day and the next night at his home, rather than at a hotel. Maria had pointed out that their pursuers might be slowed down a bit if they were looking at hotels rather than in the suburban areas of Paris. Rachel felt that she was correct and agreed.
Arnaud offered them thousands of Euros if they could but wait one day while he arranged the funds. Rachel asked him to honestly state how much he could give them as a gift without it incurring financial damage on him, or triggering some kind of alarm bells with his accountant or banker. He told her that forty thousand or so would be nothing, and he was of course eager to give it. After some debate with Maria, Rachel agreed.
Rachel had opened a bank account with their remaining funds, as soon as they hit Paris. After some mesmerizing of the bank staff, she found that she qualified for a Platinum credit card with a high limit.
Maria didn’t like the idea of credit cards, at all. She thought the idea of usury itself to be bad, and spending money you did not yet have to be even worse. They had a long debate on the merits, or lack thereof, of credit cards, mortgages, and fractional-reserve banking. Maria was frighteningly fast becoming an expert at any topic that caught her interest in her marathon reading sessions. Rachel found herself soaking up knowledge right along with Maria, and enjoyed the experience.
Maria hinted that she wanted to spend some intimate time with Arnaud, but Rachel asked her if they could find someone else, maybe a bit younger.
So, you are no longer objecting to trying this with a man, you are objecting to this particular man, Rachel?
Yes, he puts me off for some reason. He just doesn’t seem all that interesting to me at all. But, if we can find someone we both like I am open to trying it and see how it goes.
Excellent, Rachel! Very well, we will, ‘shop around’ as you say, and see who we can find. Thank you, dear! I appreciate that you are willing to do this for me.
You have changed my life in so many ways, Maria. I should be the one thanking you for everything you have done. It’s true I was not happy at all when this all started back in Romania but I am beginning to love being a woman. Being a vampire means I will have many years to enjoy and experience everything that life has to offer. I owe you so much! How could I deny you something that means so much to you?
Maria was silent and before Rachel knew it she felt tears running down her face. Maria was crying and it was pushing through to make Rachel physically cry as well. They were truly bonding more and more now, and Rachel found that she loved her companion and could honestly say that Maria had improved her lonely and boring life.
Maria wanted to see the Eiffel Tower and Rachel, having only seen it in the distance, agreed happily. They came to it just after sunset and both were enjoying themselves. Rachel told Maria a joke.
Here is a joke for you, Maria. Why did the French plant trees along the Champs-á‰lysées?
Why, Rachel?
So the Germans could march in the shade!
Maria had been reading a lot of twentieth century history and appreciated the joke, laughing along with Rachel. They spent over an hour prowling around the Tower, and for a while visited the restaurant on the second floor, La Jules Verne. Although they didn’t need to eat, Rachel wanted to sample some of the cuisine and enjoyed it.
They returned to the ground and were debating about going back to Arnaud’s home or finding a nightclub. Standing near the Tower itself, Rachel spotted a tall man in black clothing, sporting a thick beard, trailing them. She warned Maria and they went on alert.
Soon they spotted a second man, who was keeping his distance and obviously trying not to look their way. Rachel looked in all directions but it seemed there were only two of the strange men around at the moment.
The first man was closing in on them when Rachel whirled and began to close with him. He glanced around, seeing no spectators around, and then whipped out a sharpened stake. He said nothing as the distance between them closed.
When he got within striking range he slowed and prepared his stake to plunge forward at her chest, but Rachel had other ideas. Rather then turn control over to Maria she decided to run at the man, then at the last moment stepped slightly left, grabbed him by the upper arm and spun. This sent him flying nearly twenty feet. He sprang up and started back towards her.
As the man with the beard tried to stake Rachel again, the other man they had spotted earlier slipped behind the first man, and then plunged a knife into the bearded man’s back, dropping him to the ground as the knife pierced his kidney. She stared in absolute shock as the man retrieved his knife, and then winked at her!
Maria spoke before Rachel could even react. “Get away from me, you Russian pig or you will join your friend in death!”
The man smirked at her. “I am not Russian, love, I am English, thank you very much. And he was certainly not my friend. Why don’t you come with me and save yourself all of this running and fighting? You’ve fought the good fight but sooner or later we will capture you.”
Rachel replied to him, as Maria would likely curse or attack rather than talk. “WHY are you trying to capture me rather than kill me? “
“I can’t tell you that yet, love. If you surrender, though, you’ll soon know all about it.”
“I won’t let you dissect me or put me in a cage!” Maria cried and lashed out with her nails, leaving bloody scratches on the man’s face.
He cursed but backed away rather than attack her. “No need for that, now! I was protecting you, you daft vampire! That’s a piss poor way to thank me!”
“Protecting me? Why would you do that? Aren’t you with the other ones?”
“No, I am not. And maybe I wanted to rescue a fair damsel in distress?”
Rachel snorted and rolled her eyes. This made the man laugh. “You’re quite beautiful, you know. So why not chalk this up as a man stepping up to save a beautiful lady?”
Rachel shook her head. “You know what is going on here and you are going to tell me.” She tried to make eye contact but he obviously knew that was a bad idea and would not let her.
“Sadly, love, our chat must be ending. If you don’t want to surrender then I must be on my way.”
Rachel snarled, “You’re not going anywhere till you give me some answers!” She started toward him, intending to grab his head and force him to look into her eyes. But he continued backing away until they reached the street. Before she could say another word an SUV pulled up and she could see it was packed full of men. A second one came behind the first.
The man winked at her again, and stopped, obviously baiting her to keep coming. Rachel knew the odds were very much against her, and took off running as fast as she could. After a time she slowed down and made her way back to their own SUV.
Rachel, you did well with that. There were at least eight men to deal with so running was our best option.
Rachel nodded, still thinking about what the man had said to her. Why on earth would they protect me? And kill the one trying to stake me? Maria this makes no sense!
It makes perfect sense to them, does it not? This means that eventually it will to us, as well. Let us shake these bad feelings off and find a nightclub, eh?
Maria I hardly think that now is the time for us to go dancing! We need to figure out what our next move is. Or, maybe, get out of Paris now!
They will not attack us in a crowded place, Rachel. We know this from past experiences. And while we dance and enjoy ourselves we can think more on this and plan our next move. I would like to go on to England, soon.
I thought you wanted to fly from Paris to the United States?
That was before all of this business with these men started, Rachel. Gregor once told me that England hosted quite a few vampires. I have hopes of finding one or more there and perhaps they will know what this is all about.
That sounds like a great idea, Maria! And, even if they don’t know anything about our pursuit, they could possibly help us out.
Exactly, Rachel!
Rachel danced with abandon, completely enjoying herself in a nightclub. It was a surprising development but all of the clubbing was starting to rub off on her, she suspected. Maria was very pleased to see her having so much fun.
Maria was not able to talk Rachel into any karaoke but to see her dancing was pleasure enough for now.
She’d gone in the ladies to freshen her makeup and had found a drunken woman shouting at anyone who entered. She was asking women who came in the room if they were the “worthless putain who stole my date?”
Rachel assured her that she was not, and then was surprised when Maria told her to feed on the woman. She did, and found enthralling her was childishly simple and easy. After she finished she ordered the woman to go home and sober up, and Maria explained that drunken people were always easier, male or female.
Rachel asked her if the alcohol would affect her at all, as the woman’s blood alcohol must have been very high. Maria told her that sadly, no, it would have no affect at all.
This is one of the bad things about being vampire, Rachel. We cannot get drunk!
Rachel didn’t see this as a bad thing at all.
She eventually found herself dancing with a very striking young man, about her own age. His eyes stayed with her for most of the night, and when they danced close during a slow song she could feel a tight bulge in his jeans. They sat at a table with him, later, and soon were kissing passionately and doing some heavy petting, indeed.
Let us take this one to a hotel room, Rachel? Please? Rachel was amused at the way Maria asked with such need, so agreed that they would bring him along. He did not hesitate to accept their invitation, and soon Jean was sitting in the passenger seat of the SUV, still smiling at Rachel from time to time.
He asked her, “You are American, no?” and she confirmed that she was. “I like Americans, you know. Some do not, but I have never had any bad experiences with them. And you are such a lovely American woman!”
Rachel smiled and thanked him but inside she thought, Hey, Jean, you already got the girl and a trip to her hotel room, so you don’t need the hard sell now! She then addressed Maria. Does he think if he doesn’t keep talking me up I will change my mind?
Oh, Rachel, he is just being nice! Relax and enjoy this!
Rachel felt the orgasm coming, and when it did she felt that she would black out. She continued panting occasionally, even though she did not really need to. Maria had suggested it so that she would not freak her lover out.
Men have enough performance worries that we do not need to add to them!
Rachel had decided not to feed on him, after Maria had told her it would affect his performance if she did. Besides, they’d snacked well at the club, including the drunken woman in the ladies room.
After a time, Jean departed, leaving Rachel with a long slow kiss and a genuine smile before he left. She sighed and leaned against the door, closing it.
I had NO idea it would be this good as a vampire, Maria!
Maria laughed long and hard, as she had known that if she could ever get Rachel to cooperate, the fledgling girl vampire would truly enjoy herself with a man.
Well, Rachel it IS better as a vampire, and from what I have been told over the years, also better as a woman. So you are twice blessed!
I can see us doing this more often, for sure!
Good! I know you hate wasting money, but let us go back to Arnaud’s for the day. We put this room to good enough use, anyway.
Upon rising the next evening, Rachel was happy to find Arnaud handing her a receipt from his bank. It showed that he had transferred forty-five thousand Euros to her bank account. She took the receipt with a huge smile and gave him a kiss.
Rachel packed all of her things and prepared for the journey to England. She’d debated with herself and Maria at length on keeping or selling the car. She had become slightly attached to it already, but pointed out to Maria many times that the English drove on the left side of the road and it would be annoying at the least for them. Also on her list of reasons to get rid of the car was their plan to fly to America when they were ready to leave England.
Do not let me stop you from talking yourself into selling the car, Rachel! Maria was amused at Rachel’s dithering over selling it or not. Just remember that money should not be a problem for us and we can replace it when and if we need to.
Eventually Rachel decided to sell it, and added the proceeds to their already large bank account. She let herself smile as they bid farewell to Calais and boarded the train to take them to England.
They both hoped that England would hold some answers, or if not answers at least some other vampires to compare notes with.
The Duchess of Arad, Chapter 6
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The Duchess of Arad
Chapter 6
by Jenny Sugar
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar All Rights Reserved. |
|
Maria enjoyed their trip through the Channel Tunnel immensely, and remarked on what a feat of engineering it was. The high-speed train impressed her and Rachel asked if she had ever been on a train but this was Maria’s first time. She told Rachel that this was the kind of thing that humanity did well and should be praised for. Building, not destroying, is humanity’s finest attribute, Rachel. Would that there was more of the former and less of the latter!
Rachel had always liked England, not least because the language barrier was non-existent and she honestly liked the people as well. They decided to head for London, first, since it was a major population center and was the most likely place to find other vampires.
Rachel decided to rent a car for their time in England, and then took the M20 north into London. Maria seemed to like the countryside and the sights. Rachel let her drive for a time, and it went quite well despite her grumbling about driving on the wrong side of the road.
“You’re such a seasoned driver now, Maria! Already set in your ways,” she teased.
“Bah. These English just want to be difficult, apparently. What is wrong with driving on the right like the rest of Europe?”
Rachel had no answer, but suspected Maria could be right.
They took a room at the Dorchester Hotel, a fancy and expensive hotel. Maria argued that they owed themselves some decadence and luxury after all they’d been through lately. In the end, Rachel agreed. They took one of the Belgravia Suites, and Maria actually cooed over the all-marble bathroom, and their first order of business was a hot bath.
While soaking in the hot water, Maria and Rachel plotted their next move.
Rachel had been thinking a lot on the subject and said, “They always seem to know where to find us, so I am sure they will turn up sooner or later. I would like to find some allies before they appear, though.”
Their thoughts dovetailed and Maria was in agreement. “I do hope to find other vampires before they appear as well. I have been straining my senses to feel out any that may be near. We need to drive all around the city and see if you or I feel their presence.”
“That sounds like a good plan to me, Maria. You know I wish we were here in two different bodies so that we could scrub each other’s backs!”
Maris laughed her musical laugh and answered. “This is why I had servants and thralls, Rachel dear! A maidservant is perfect for that task!”
Rachel felt uncomfortable at the idea of thralls doing things for her and told Maria so. “The idea of it feels too much like slavery. And you know we had a lot of problems with slavery in America. The lingering problems from that still have an impact today.”
Maria shook her head. “It is not slavery, Rachel. At least, I do not see it that way. They may not leave, true — unless I removed the memories of me and then they could. But, you must understand, they gained benefits from serving me.”
“Such as?” Rachel asked, doubtfully.
“Well for one, they were well fed, Rachel! I kept plenty of food and farm animals when I had my small village of thralls. I took care of them as if they were my family! That is what a noble is supposed to do, you know. Also, they gained longer life as well. And they were safe from bandits and the like. It was a good living, being my thrall!”
Maria shared a memory and suddenly Rachel was there:
The little girl was very sick and her mother was certain that she would die. Her fever was very high and her skin blistering hot to the touch. Maria smiled at the woman and told her she’d try to help her child. The woman nodded, and thanked her, but seemed to think her daughter was a lost cause.
In the next memory the woman was there on her knees, thanking Maria profusely. Her daughter stood beside her, weak, but healthy and happy to be back with her mother.
“Maria you doctored and nursed them all when they were sick, too?”
“Yes, of course Rachel. I took good care of my servants! They were not slaves in any sense of the word. Certainly not what you were thinking earlier! I would be offended being compared to some Confederate slave owner beating slaves to death on a plantation!”
Rachel grimaced and apologized to Maria. “I am sorry, Maria! I should not have thought that of you. It is just that when you say the word 'thrall', it makes me think in terms of 'property' or 'slave.'”
Maria laughed at that. "Oh no, Rachel. It is meant to convey that they are enthralled to my will in a way, but I did not forcibly enslave them and turn them into zombie creatures as you picture! I simply had to nudge each one to accept my rule and not fight me, and ignore little things such as me not aging. We were very much a Duchess and her loyal subjects. Though, my subjects were more loyal than many in that time would be!"
She giggled. “But think nothing more of it, Rachel! I do agree with you that it would be fun to scrub your back!”
Rachel grinned but then spoke more seriously. “Honestly, Maria, I sometimes do wish that we could be two people in two bodies. Not that I regret sharing this one with you but just to have someone to cuddle with, hug, and help protect each other. There have been several fights that had me a little worried, you know?”
Maria nodded. “I understand Rachel. And I feel much the same way. We seem to be stuck this way, though. I will say that there is no one I’d rather share a body with than you!”
Rachel finished her bath with a happy smile, glad that she and Maria were really beginning to click and were happy with one another.
Rather than go clubbing, they decided to drive around the town all night to try to feel out any vampires that might be in London. Maria had argues that a nightclub would be THE perfect spot for a vampire to lurk, snack on prey, and have fun all at the same time.
Rachel did not disagree entirely, as Maria had made a convert of her to the nightlife in clubs. But she wanted to see London and thought that a tour of the city would kill two birds with one stone. Maybe it was a sign of their deepening closeness but Maria quickly agreed and they set off to explore.
London was huge, sprawling out in all directions. Rachel used the GPS in their rental car to try to do some sort of logical search pattern. Maria would have preferred roaming randomly about and letting luck have its way with them, of course.
After four hours of driving, Rachel had to admit that her plan wasn’t getting them anywhere. Maria did not sense even the slightest hint of a vampire and they were both getting discouraged, even though Maria enjoyed seeing London. They decided to go back to the hotel and spend some time reading and surfing the internet.
Rachel parked in the parking garage and was headed toward the elevator when she spotted two men coming out of it. Both were dressed in black and had the look and feel of their hunters. The men spotted Rachel as she spotted them and they both started toward her.
Rachel since there are only two I think we should attack!
I agree, let’s separate them and try to capture one.
Rachel leaped at the man on the left and grabbed him, spinning her body while holding his arm tight and aiming his head at the concrete wall. He hit with a loud crack and he was down. She immediately darted back and to the right watching for the other man. He had produced a knife and came towards her.
She ducked and rolled, bowling him over. She leaped up and darted back at him but he was ready and tried to plunge the stake into her chest. She batted it to the side and it grazed her arm instead. She hissed at him and clouted his head.
He pulled the stake back and was about to make another run when Rachel snapped her knee into his groin. He groaned and backed away, cursing at her in Russian.
She was about to disarm him and work on mesmerizing her attacker when she heard a squeal of brakes and an SUV appeared. Four men piled out of the car with stakes in hand and came towards her.
Well, these are not here to capture us, Rachel!
Maria acted instantly and kicked their attacker in the head, knocking him out cold. If nothing else maybe we can take a prisoner if we can deal with these, eh?
Rachel found herself surrounded by four grim men with stakes in their hands. She held her hands up and said “Look, I mean you no harm, I do not kill people… please, let me go?”
There was no answer at first, and then one of the men spoke, with a Romanian accent. “Doesn’t matter if you beg or not, leech, you are going down.”
“But, I am no threat to you. I don’t hurt people! Can’t you just let me slip away? I’ll never ever darken your doorstep again. I’ll leave London tonight!”
The man shook his head and said “Leeches don’t get second chances with us, bitch.”
The man who had spoken raised his stake and Rachel could see the planes in the wood all around the point where a blade had sharpened it. She could feel her death. Maria was calm and cool and finally spoke up. Four of them. I do not see this ending well but we must try, dear. When he goes to stab you, grab the stake and use it against them. I see no other option here but maybe to run?
Maria seemed doubtful that they could get away and obviously preferred the thought of fighting these men. Rachel thought for just a moment and agreed. They would make a stand, here. She was as tired of running as Maria was.
Just as she thought the man would strike, a new sound penetrated the room. Echoed clicks from what sounded like high heels. The man paused and the other men glanced back.
A tall beautiful blonde woman walked out of the darker area of the garage and into the light. Honey-golden hair was a halo around her head and spilled down her shoulders, which sported a mink stole. A little black dress was under the stole, and Rachel’s vision followed the dress on down to long slender legs in ebony hose, and six inch black stiletto heels. Beautiful gold earrings dangled from her ears and her right arm sparkled with a silver charm bracelet. She was stunningly beautiful and would have looked right at home at a fashion show or Hollywood red carpet event.
The woman stopped behind the men and grinned, perfect white teeth like a movie star showing behind blood red lips. “Is there some trouble here, boys?” She had a French accent, and a sweet musical voice.
The man in front of Rachel answered her, while keeping his gaze upon Rachel. “None of this is your concern. This is a police matter, ma’am. You need to leave, now.”
“Oh, but this looks so interesting! It takes 4 of you with these small spears to apprehend this dangerous young woman? I am a reporter, you see, with the BBC. And this looks to be a fascinating story! Do tell me more?”
The lead man frowned and spoke to one of his men. “Dave, get her out of here.”
Dave took the woman by the arm and said “Please, come with me, ma’am. You shouldn’t be here at all.”
The woman pouted, then nodded and started away with Dave. They stopped, and Rachel could see the woman looking into Dave’s eyes and smiling.
Inside, Maria brightened considerably. Do you feel her? She is one of us, I am certain! Get ready to move, Rachel!
Rachel tensed as Dave turned and headed for one of his teammates. As he closed in, he pulled a large hunting knife from his belt. At that very moment, the blonde vampire leaped across the room and landed atop the other man.
With three out of commission, Rachel reached out and grasped the arm of the man holding the stake on her and felt her teeth extend. She hissed at him, more from instinct or perhaps that was Maria’s doing? Regardless, she did not hesitate to plunge her fangs into his neck and drink. She regained energy after drinking for a bit then let him drop to the floor. She stared at the corpse for a moment, feeling shame from killing him while Maria ranted.
Move, you fool! Do not stand there! Aggh, what if her thrall hadn’t gotten one? When someone is going to kill you, you do not stand there like a statue weeping for your would-be killer!
I’m sorry Maria, killing still bothers me, you know.
Luckily for them both, while Rachel had been drinking and then staring, the blonde woman and her charmed thrall had wasted no time. All of the men were dead. The woman wiped her mouth and grinned at Rachel.
“Well met, indeed, sister! I am Clarisse Antoinette Dubois. Welcome to London!”
“Thank you! I am Rachel Maria Harrison, and I appreciate your help, Clarisse.”
Clarisse smiled and reached for Rachel with both hands extended. Rachel cautiously walked forward and the woman hugged her tightly. “It is so good to meet you, and your thanks are not necessary at all, mon ami. I despise these stupid hunter types and quite happily slay any that I find. But let us continue our conversation in a more pleasant place, no?”
Rachel held up her hand. “Wait, we captured one and I’d like to...” The man she had kneed in the groin had likely crawled in the elevator or perhaps somewhere else. He was gone.
Rachel sighed and nodded and they walked towards the direction Clarisse had come from. She started to ask about interrogating Clarisse’s new pet, but Maria told her not to ask, it would be impolite and they did not know this woman at all, yet. The man followed Clarisse out as would a puppy.
They came to a limousine with a very tall and handsome driver opening the door as they approached. They got in and sped away.
After a short drive Rachel found herself entering a luxurious estate, with attentive guards at the wrought-iron gate blocking the entrance. The gate had a huge stylized “D” on it, presumably standing for ‘Dubois’.
The limousine slowly followed the road into the estate, and pulled up to a huge mansion-like house, with perfectly manicured gardens and opulence anywhere she glanced.
Clarisse ushered them in to pure decadence and works of art prominently displayed in every room. Polished marble floors, overstuffed furniture, and expensive drapes lined the room she led them to.
A servant poured her a flute of champagne and withdrew quietly. She sat on a low couch with Clarisse by her side. A fire in a huge hearth roared in front of them.
“It is so good to have you here in my home, Rachel! Our kind are so rare, and when I felt your presence I had George turn the car around and pull in here quickly. I am so glad that I sensed you!”
Rachel took a sip and asked Clarisse, “Who are those people? Do you know why they are after me? And how do they keep finding me? They’ve chased me all across Europe!”
Clarisse laughed and took a sip from her own glass, then set it on the glass table in front of them. “They are Vampire Hunters, my dear. They were going to kill you due to your nature, just as they would love to kill me. Though of course some try to capture me, too. Alas, I do not know how they are finding you… they always find me as well. No matter where I travel, eventually I run into either the Kidnappers or the Killers!”
Rachel thought that her terms for the two groups were perfectly suitable. “Are you going to interrogate our new ‘friend’, Dave?” she asked.
“I have interrogated his type before, Rachel. We will still try, certainly, but typically they only know that they must capture me for their leadership. They do not seem to know much more than that, and that we are vampires. They do not even know how we are tracked.”
Rachel sat puzzled while digesting that information. “But… that makes no sense, Clarisse! Surely some of them would know why they are doing this?”
“The leaders do, Rachel. But the leaders often will fight to the death. I’ve never managed to make one my thrall. The minions of the Killers only know that we are evil bloodsucking vampires who must be exterminated to save humanity!” She laughed and held her hands out and popped out her fangs, imitating the comical vampire villain.
She sat back down and took a sip of her wine and went on.
“The Kidnappers are a different sort, in that they do not try to kill me, ever. They just want to cage me, but will not say why. I have enthralled a few over the years but I never get much useful information from them. Just that their leaders want me captured and that they will not stop until they get me.”
“I keep an eye on them, of course. At times I try hard to thin their herd but they always recruit new members. I suppose I might need to exterminate them, one day. They can grow tiresome, as you know! But they provide a pleasant diversion at times. One day they may be more of a threat, but I’ve never worried much about them.”
Rachel was a bit shocked at this, since the woman didn’t seem to even take the hunters seriously at all. Maria was not. Rachel, she’s bored and finds their attacks thrilling. I went through a similar phase after my first one hundred years. When you can, ask her how old she is, but be polite.
“I still must thank you for your assistance, Clarisse. Without your help things might have gotten a bit sticky.” Rachel smiled her gratitude at the beautiful blonde and got an answering twinkle.
“Non, it was nothing! I enjoyed it, Rachel. So, what brings you here to London? Are you thinking to settle here in England, perhaps?”
That got Maria’s attention. She is afraid you will try to invade her territory. Rachel answered: Yes, I kind of figured that she’d be nervous about us dropping into her little pond.
“No, Clarisse, I just stopped here to see London. I am on my way back home.” She took a sip of her own wine, finding it to be delicious.
Clarisse appeared delighted to hear her response. “Well then, you are most welcome here in my home Rachel! And you may stay here for the duration of your visit. I insist that you accept my hospitality, dear! You are American, yes?”
Rachel nodded her head. “Yes. I would be honored to stay here as your guest, Clarisse. Have you lived in London long? I assume you are French?”
Clarisse took a sip and replied. “Oui. I am from a town near Paris. I decided to live in England for a time, as France became a bit too… hot, during the revolution. I love my home here but I still visit France often.”
Rachel asked her the question most on their minds when they had left France. “Are there other vampires here in England or in the UK at all?”
“No, I am the only vampire in the United Kingdom - or in Ireland for that matter, that I am aware of.”
“You are the only one in all of the British Isles? How could that be?”
Clarisse frowned and took a sip of her wine. “Honestly I do not know, Rachel. When I was living in France there were at least a half dozen that I knew personally here. They all vanished over the years and I have not seen, nor felt the presence of, a vampire in France, the Low Countries, or England in over one hundred years.”
“Do you think that these Hunters could have anything to do with this, Clarisse?”
“Mm, I suppose it could be possible, yes. I just do not see a group of humans easily wiping out every vampire in Western Europe, however.”
Maria what shall I tell her if she wants to know how old I am?
Maria was thinking, Rachel could tell. Tell her my age and my story if she asks, Rachel. She will want to know your sire I am certain, so it is better to tell her that. Besides, it is the truth!
“You look… distant, Rachel. Is there anything wrong?”
Rachel started and replied. “Oh, no, nothing is wrong at all Clarisse! I was just thinking of my journey through France. I was only there for few days, but it was a lovely country.”
This brought a smile to Clarisse’s lips and she tilted her head at Rachel. “Yes, I love France and sometimes I visit it, still. Homesickness, perhaps?” She laughed. “The Chunnel is a fascinating bit of engineering. Well for the English that they did not construct it one hundred years previously or they might all be speaking French now… or German!”
Rachel decided that was a good opening for Maria’s question. Maria had cautioned her to be sly about it. “You witnessed the Terror, then? And of course the Little Corporal? I agree Napoleon would have made good use of the Chunnel.”
Clarisse smiled and nodded. “The Terror was a bad time, indeed. The guillotine would end ones such as us no less than the stake. And I met Napoleon on two different occasions. The man might have been a great general but he was a damned Corsican and his accent was quite noticeable.”
So, she was around for the Revolution, anyway. I am sure you knew about it in Romania?
Yes, the news of it ran like wildfire through all of Europe, Rachel. Anyone with a drop of noble blood risked beheading. A horrible time. She could be lying, you know. She could read a history book as well as the next woman.
You really don’t trust her do you?
Maria snorted at Rachel. I would not trust me, so of course I do not trust her!
Clarisse was watching Rachel and noted that Rachel would often go completely still and seem to withdraw into herself, then rapidly come back to the outside world. It fascinated her. “Rachel, is there anything wrong? If there is, please tell me. Let me help?”
Maria answered before Rachel could form words. “Oh, not at all, Clarisse. I am often caught up in my own thoughts. It is a bad habit from being too many years alone and solitary, I fear.”
“I know loneliness well, Rachel. I often long to find other vampires — to spend time with those I have more in common with and share memories of the same times. Until you appeared I had all but given up hope!”
While she was talking Clarisse was also thinking about Rachel’s strangeness. It seemed like another person besides Rachel had answered her last question. Even the inflections and accent were subtly different. She thought furiously for a moment, recalling various accents she’d experienced over the years.
“You have lived in Romania for a time, yes?”
Maria answered that she had, and then froze. Clarisse had asked the question in Romanian and Maria had replied in the same language, and sounded like a native.
Clarisse laughed delightedly, the laugh of someone who often found amusement in life. “Oh, Rachel, please do not take offense! You are so cautious and you seem to be worried about me. I have no intent to harm you in any way! Please, do not be so stuffy and tense! We have much to talk about, and it is pointless for us to bristle like two hissing cats in a backyard!”
She leaned forward, and looked very earnest. “Even if you declared your intent to stay in England, or even London itself, I would not mind at all! You have obviously survived long thus you do not leave a trail of bodies lying about to arouse suspicion! As I told you, I have been so lonely for other vampires.”
Rachel was not sure how to respond so Maria replied. “Very well, Clarisse. I was born in 1688 in Romania, yes. I absolutely have no plans to settle here, however. I plan to go to America and make a safe haven there.”
Clarisse was pleased and her expression brightened with another huge smile. “Ah, see that was not so hard, Rachel! You are only slightly older than I. I was born in 1766, in France, as I said. I was turned around the same time that King Louis was executed. To be forever 27, yes? I lived through the Terror and managed to escape my appointment with Mr. Guillotine.” She shuddered.
“So you were part of the nobility, then?” Maria seemed absurdly pleased at the thought, and Rachel sniffed.
Clarisse nodded. “Yes, I was, which at that time was a very bad thing to be! Vampire or not, I had no desire to have my head removed. And, remember, I was a fledgling at that time, and had not reached my full strength. I was captured and was due to be executed, due to several knowing who I was, before. I was able to escape though, and left quite a few of them dead.”
Rachel and Maria were torn on whether to tell Clarisse of their unique situation and finally they decided to level with her, as she seemed to be the only ally they had. Maria went against her natural cautious nature, as she had a good feeling about this woman.
“Clarisse, I would like to share my story with you, and after, ask if you would like to work together to solve this mystery?”
“Rachel I would be delighted to hear anything you wish to share, and of course we can help each other and attempt to put an end to these annoying hunters!”
So Maria told her story, from the very beginning, and went on through to Richard finding her and transforming into Rachel. This utterly shocked their host but she could not deny that when they switched off the accent changed slightly and it was almost like a different person was present. She also noted that when Maria spoke she often gestured with her hands as well, while Rachel kept hers in her lap usually.
“These Russian priests who chained you up, Maria; you said that they never spoke to you even once?"
“No, they were silent and refused to answer any of my questions. I spoke Russian so I know that they understood me.”
“Maria, both groups speak with a Russian accent, usually — but not always! So I have assumed that they are related in some way. The Kidnappers seem more numerous and talk more. The Killers are only focused on killing me and they rarely say anything.”
Maria nodded, as that matched what she and Rachel had experienced.
“Have you met any vampires in your travels other than me, Rachel? Have you sensed any, Maria?”
“No. We haven’t met any and I have not felt any vampires’ presence at all.”
“I always thought that Romania and Eastern Europe would have lots of our people. It does make me wonder if the Killers have thinned our ranks. It worries me as well. What if we two are the only remaining vampires?”
Maria hadn’t thought along those lines and didn’t like the conclusion at all. “I hope that we are not! I have always felt that we are the next step up in human evolution, and it would be terrible to see our existence put to an end!”
Clarisse nodded and stood. “Let us continue this discussion tomorrow, as it is getting near sunrise and I do believe that we all could use the rest? Tomorrow evening I would like to discuss more of this and try to make a plan to deal with these people. I also have the beginnings of a plan, of sorts, that I would like to discuss with you. ”
She led Rachel to an opulent bedroom with a huge canopied bed and a waiting maidservant at her disposal. “Bonne nuit, mon ami!”
Before they slept Rachel asked Maria why Clarisse and Maria were both so curious about how old the other was. She was silent for a few moments and Rachel wondered if she would answer the question.
“There is… a pecking order among vampires, Rachel. Please understand that I know this secondhand from Gregor, never having experienced it myself with others beyond my child. He told me that as vampires get older their power waxes and the older the vampire the stronger the magic — the overall power, the vampire possesses. When we first awaken we are much more powerful than a mortal, as you could attest!“
“When you say more power or magic what does that entail, Maria? You refer to physical strength?”
“Yes but that is not the main thing, Rachel. You know how we enthrall humans? A stronger vampire can bend a weaker to his or her will. Gregor was only decades older than me but I felt an urge to obey him. Ecaterina obeyed me in most things, cursed girl, but not all! “
Maria’s tone changed and she lent her voice a serious and direct tone that Rachel was learning to recognize.
“Rachel, about what happened back there. You MUST learn to defend yourself without remorse! I do not speak of hunting and killing prey, now. I am speaking of defending against a would-be murderer who is trying to kill you. Do you doubt that the man was going to plunge the stake in? Do you?”
“N-no. I knew he was, and I let you take him, as you saw?“
“You let me take him? No, Rachel, I did nothing. I was observer not participant, there. You did that.”
Rachel didn’t like that at all. “What? NO! I let you have control and you vamped out and killed him.”
“Vamped out?” She said flatly.
“You know what I mean.”
Maria sighed and Rachel could tell she was very upset. “No, Rachel. I did not take control — I cannot, remember? You have to relax and allow it. You were extremely tense and emotional back there — I could do nothing! YOU handled that, but you did not handle it well. If Clarisse had not appeared you and I would be gone. You did well in Paris. Perhaps you just need more practice fighting. Or perhaps we both thought the other would take charge. We must be more careful, regardless.”
She continued on. “I am very worried about these Killers, Rachel. I strongly suspect that Clarisse may indeed be correct with her suspicions. Maybe they are just in Europe, not the entire world… but who knows how far that these Killers reach?”
Rachel brought up the point that both had been thinking but not said. ”And what if Clarisse and I are the only vampires left in Europe, or the world?”
“That is not a pleasant thought before bed, is it?”
“It is most certainly not!”
The Duchess of Arad, Chapter 7
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The Duchess of Arad
Chapter 7
by Jenny Sugar
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar All Rights Reserved. |
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The next evening began with a soft knock upon Rachel’s door, with a servant bearing a silk gown for her and an invitation to dine on the woman’s neck for breakfast. Rachel did feel slightly hungry, and even though it felt rather strange she graciously accepted the offer and drained about a pint.
After her breakfast, Rachel went downstairs to find their hostess relaxing in one of the parlors, smoking a cigarette in a foot-long holder that brought to Rachel’s mind the character of Holly in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
Clarisse beamed at her and put out the cigarette, remarking “Nasty habit I picked up in the roaring twenties but I still enjoy it, occasionally. So, good morning, Rachel, and Maria! I hope that you slept well and enjoyed your breakfast?”
Rachel returned her smile. The woman had an infectious joyful attitude that was hard to ignore or to not reflect. “We slept well, thank you. And thank you for the breakfast, which was very thoughtful of you.”
Clarisse could tell that Rachel had answered, rather than Maria, from the inflection and faint American accent. “No thanks are necessary! You are my honored guest, and I am thrilled to have you here! I hope that you will stay a good long time! Several decades, perhaps?” She giggled, but Rachel knew the woman was at least half serious in her invitation.
She beckoned Rachel to follow her over to the divan and they both sat down.
“Let us continue from where we left off last night, yes? I told you that I had been making plans, and our conversation touched upon them all, in truth.”
Rachel nodded and smiled, waiting to hear what Clarisse had in mind.
“I have been pondering turning a woman for some time. As I told you last night I have been so lonely and wanted another vampire as a companion, and a sex partner as well. She would be someone to help me face these Hunters and perhaps end them as well. I’d been searching for just the right woman in the last few months.”
Rachel cocked her head slightly and asked Clarisse in her usual straightforward way, “So, you’re a lesbian, then?”
Clarisse giggled and shook her head. “No, Rachel, not at all. I am happy with either sex, you see? Yes, bisexual as they call it. No, I just wanted a close friend and companion to share my life with and a woman would be the first choice for that — the sex would just be… how do you say it? A fringe benefit, yes?”
Rachel nodded, thinking that fringe benefits with Clarisse might be a fun thing to experiment with. Maria snorted but offered no comment.
Clarisse continued. “More to the point of our discussion, I even considered raising a small army of vampires to combat these Hunters and finally put a stop to all of this nonsense. Your appearance has made me think more on it all and I have high hopes that together we can come up with a good plan. Would you want to help turn a few humans and then begin fighting back? Or do you agree that maybe that is not such a good idea?”
Rachel and Maria were both impressed with the woman’s thoughts, and it must have shown in her face because Clarisse started laughing. “I am not just another pretty face, mon ami! I hold three doctorates and there is much more going on beneath this blonde hair than most would think!”
This made Rachel laugh and give Clarisse a hug. She was starting to like this woman. “I am sorry! I did not mean you to think that I considered you some blonde bimbo and act all shocked when you make intelligent plans!”
“I get that all of the time from people when I speak my mind, do not worry! So, what do you and Maria think? Is it a workable plan or, perhaps too long-term?”
Maria answered at once. “It is a bit too much time to invest to build up a small group of us, Clarisse. They would take a few years to reach their full potential. Meanwhile we would still be dealing with the Hunters. And if we settle here with you to do this, I am sure they would start sending larger teams.”
“Exactly, Maria! That was one of my concerns, but I wanted to share it with you both and hear your thoughts on it, regardless.”
Clarisse poured some wine for them both then clapped her hands together, once. “So! We call that Plan B, and we come up with Plan A. And I think Plan A would be a frontal assault by the two of us, but the question with that is — could we pull it off?”
Rachel nodded thoughtfully. “The first step would be the one we have been stuck on all along. We need to capture one that actually knows something, especially where these people are based at. Then we could plan the assault and cut the head off the snake.”
Clarisse smiled and agreed. She thought that what Rachel had said was coming from both of them rather than one, and was delighted that they said she was right when she asked.
Maria formulated and offered her version of Plan A and Rachel was happy with it, as was Clarisse. They spent several more hours going over various what-ifs and how they would react to each. As to where they would execute it, Clarisse had a suggestion.
“While we wait for them to appear again, we might as well have some fun! Have you ever been to a nightclub, Rachel?”
Rachel had to explain, a few minutes later, why that question had her falling over laughing herself silly.
“Well, we shall have our fun, and if our Hunter friends show up, we will be ready for them. If not, we all love to dance, so it still works out well!”
One of the most popular nightclubs in London, known far and wide as a place to rub shoulders (and other body parts) with the wealthy, the up-and-coming, and the famous, was packed on this night. The line to get in the door stretched for half a block, and a trio of bouncers worked the door keeping the undesirables at bay.
A gleaming limousine pulled up, and one of the bouncers went and opened it. He smiled and greeted the blonde who got out first, as she was a regular here. He looked impressed at her designer dress, mink stole, and her overall regal bearing. He was no less impressed with the brunette temptress who came out next, wearing the latest designer fashion, and wrapped with a chinchilla stole.
Expensive, and very real, jewelry dripped from their ears, around their necks, and wrists. They looked like royalty and took in all of the stares and pointing as their due. They were escorted in the door and they leaned close to each other in the foyer.
“Wow, Clarisse, you sure know how to make an entrance!” Rachel remarked.
Clarisse grinned and flashed her bright smile. “Ah, I have had a lot of practice, since I come here often. I enjoy the attention, and I do adore the finer things in life, as well. Let’s dance!”
Rachel and Clarisse danced for over an hour, and both snacked on a man, each.
Clarisse was dancing with her chosen prey while Rachel sat at a small table to relax for a few moments. Maria didn’t let her relax for long.
Tell me, Rachel. Why do you disapprove of Clarisse’s lifestyle? I have felt disdain from you regarding her servants, her decadent ways, and even her expensive collection of designer outfits and furs.
Before Rachel could respond, Maria went on.
I have also noticed that you look down upon the nobility, and the wealthy people. Are you at heart one of these communist people we have read about? Or perhaps your American egalitarian views color your view of Clarisse and even me?
Rachel pondered her questions for a few minutes before responding. First of all, Maria, I do not look down on you at all. I look up to you, as my friend, mentor, and I suppose you could say soul-mate?
Thank you my dear, I feel the same about you. But please answer my question?
Rachel sighed. I don’t much like decadence or displaying wealth, yes. And being American might have something to do with it. The very idea of servants, to me, is kind of unreal and somewhat appalling. I would prefer a world where everyone had whatever they wished and the rich could not lord their wealth over the poor and the starving, you know?
Before Maria could reply, Rachel went on. However, having said all that, I am not a communist or anything like that. The old me was a bit more of an ascetic, and disapproving of all these kind of things. The new me is enjoying living the lifestyle, and I am quite impressed, honestly, by the charity I see you display from time to time. That tells me that even the rich can be good people and their wealth doesn’t make them evil.
It is good that you are seeing that, Rachel. Even I agree that Clarisse is a bit too decadent for my tastes, but I think that at heart she is a person of good character. She is filled with fun, laughter, and a great love for life. Much like me in the latter!
Rachel focused her gaze on the vampire in question and quickly found her on the dance floor, moving her body in ways that made the men around her openly stare. Clarisse had a huge smile on her face as she danced, obviously having a great time.
I find it ironic that the first two vampires I know love life so much.
Not at all! We are not creatures of death, Rachel! Even though we bring it to some, or at least have before, at times. We are creatures of life, and celebrate life in all ways that we can. I think that you are learning this, yes?
Rachel nodded. Yes, I have to agree with you. And I do like Clarisse, so far. She seems a lot like you in some ways, I think.
Hmm, yes, I think you are correct. And, I’ll say this on the subject of Clarisse. Rachel felt strong amusement from Maria. She wants to play with you, or us. It is your decision, of course, whether to encourage or rebuff her. I am happy regardless of your decision.
Rachel blushed and stared at Clarisse, dumbfounded. She’d not picked up the slightest clue, but then again she had not the experience or wisdom of Maria either, she ruefully thought.
Wow, I had no idea, Maria! I’ll… have to think about that. I do feel some attraction to her, but I hadn’t considered acting upon it.
Maria laughed. No, really? I had not noticed, Rachel. She pronounced Rachel’s name as Clarisse always did, “Ray-shell”, then dissolved into giggles.
Rachel rolled her eyes and headed back to the dance floor, where she and Clarisse danced together for the rest of the night until closing. Clarisse seemed to especially enjoy the few slow dances with Rachel, and held her tightly through each one.
Clarisse and Rachel left the building separately, as part of Maria’s overall plan. They had agreed to rendezvous at the limousine from different approaches, hoping to catch one or more of their annoying hunters. Rachel arrived first, and looked carefully about, extending her senses to the limit and relying on Maria to sound an alarm if anyone approached.
Unfortunately, nobody did, and within a few minutes Clarisse joined her and they crawled in the limo and snuggled on the way back to Clarisse’s estate.
Clarisse put an arm around Rachel and hugged her. “Do not be disappointed, Rachel! They will appear in good time, and when they do… we shall have them!”
Rachel returned the hug and settled back in the seat, agreeing that if not tonight, then sometime soon they would have their chance.
A few moments later, Clarisse leaned close to Rachel and whispered in her ear. “May I kiss you, Rachel?” Rachel nodded, unsure of what to say.
Clarisse tenderly touched her lips to Rachel’s and the kiss grew firmer by the moment. She took Rachel in her arms and their kissing became more and more passionate and urgent. This went on until both were extremely worked up and filled with lust.
“Rachel I have been so lonely for companionship and love. My thralls are nice but I have wanted to be intimate with our own kind. Many is the time I have almost turned a thrall just to have this intimacy. But, I also feel strongly that I should not turn someone just because I want sex with them. Do you see?”
Maria answered, rather than Rachel, who was still quite fuzzy after the heavy petting. “Clarisse I must say that I respect your decision! Turning someone should never be lightly done, and I applaud your restraint.”
“Thank you, Maria. You see now why I have hesitated at creating more of us just to fight the Hunters? I could not justify it to myself! Vampires are immortal and powerful creatures. Just creating vampires for the sake of foot soldiers in some war… non.”
Maria nodded and said “I agree with you there, as well.”
Clarisse smiled. “Would you like to share my bed today, Rachel and Maria? I would very much like to share it with you!”
The blatant and sudden invitation bowled Rachel over momentarily. But she finally regained the power of speech and said “We would love to share the bed of such a beautiful and elegant woman such as you, Clarisse!”
Maria was smug. I told you so, Rachel!
Clarisse took Rachel by the hand when they entered the mansion and practically drug her along to her bedroom. She sat down on her king-size canopied bed and patted the spot beside her with a grin. Rachel joined her and soon they were taking up where they had left off in the limo.
After some time they removed each other’s clothing and things began to heat up beyond any level that Rachel could have ever imagined. Maria had been with women before and knew what to expect. Rachel had, too, in her previous life, but to her this was a brand new experience indeed. Soon Clarisse had Rachel on her back while she pleasured her American friend in every way that she knew.
She nipped Rachel’s breasts, licked at her nipples with her tongue circling the aureoles until Rachel was driven frantic. At one point she playfully bit into her breasts with her fangs and sucked a small amount of blood, then licked the wound and then her lips while staring into Rachel’s eyes. As she pressed forward and kissed Rachel passionately, she worked a finger up into her and began searching for the right spot. It was not long before it was found.
As Rachel’s back arched and she moaned, Clarisse grinned and began to massage in earnest, driving Rachel wild with lust. Rachel stuttered “P-please…” and Clarisse giggled and relented.
She trailed kisses down Rachel’s chest, stomach, and soon homed in on her target. Rachel screamed in ecstasy as Clarisse gave her mind-blowing orgasm after orgasm. Rachel felt that she was in the presence of some kind of sex goddess.
Then, it was Clarisse’s turn to be attacked by Rachel. She duplicated Clarisse’s efforts but after a time let Maria take over. She wanted the more experienced woman to drive Clarisse into the same frenzy that they had just experienced, and Maria was more than happy to return the favor. Rachel just enjoyed watching Maria in action as she drove the elegant woman into a total frenzy.
Clarisse was soon screaming herself as the experienced Maria used all of her tricks to drive the blonde vampire over the edge repeatedly. Soon they both collapsed on the bed, completely spent but both feeling a glowing happiness that each felt should be visible to anyone.
Clarisse lay snuggled up against Rachel as they did some pillow talk before sleeping. She’d called for servants and they had both snacked. Rachel felt incredibly good, probably the best she’d felt since waking up in this body, and she told Clarisse so.
Clarisse beamed at her new lover. “It is always good with another woman, Rachel. And I could tell that Maria has had her share of experience with women, yes?”
Maria nodded and replied. “Oh, many times, Clarisse. I love men, but I also love women. I am not picky!”
They both giggled and shared a kiss. Clarisse offered her a sip from her wine glass and she took it.
Rachel was a bit star-struck and quite infatuated with Clarisse, and Maria was nothing but amused by the situation. I agree that she is incredible, Rachel. I like her! But this was two friends sharing each other. Do not get too crazy for her right now. We still have a large threat hanging over our heads.
Rachel came to her senses and blushed slightly, but agreed that Maria was right.
Clarisse pulled out a cigarette holder and inserted one into it and looked at Rachel. “Do you mind, darling? I really like to, after good sex!” She grinned.
“I never liked smoking or being around it, but please, go ahead if you want. It won’t bother me at all right now!” Rachel smiled at Clarisse and motioned for her to go ahead and enjoy herself, and she did. “Does it do anything for you, like it would a human?”
Clarisse nodded slightly. “Somewhat, but it is very faint. Our bodies just shrug off toxins and chemicals and drugs that would addict or even kill a human. For instance, I’ve tried cocaine, but it was a very faint rush and I did not have any great desire to do it again, after. I tend toward the more classic vices, I suppose.”
“My vice, before all of this happened, was junk food. Luckily I had a high metabolism, or I’d have likely weighed three hundred pounds!”
Maria cleared her throat and shared what was on her mind, ending their discussion of vices. “Clarisse, I have been thinking about what you said about converting some humans to build our own army. We agreed that it was not a good idea. But, why do we not build an army of thralls instead? I know you have quite a few here, and many of them are guards. We could both work and build up some more?”
Clarisse nodded thoughtfully. “Actually I often do have to recruit more after one of their tiresome attacks. They decimate my guards every time they come here in force. Yes, I like your idea, and I know just the place to recruit a good-sized force!”
“Where did you have in mind?”
Clarisse smiled a mysterious smile, and then laughed. “I have a friend in the Foreign Legion; he is Commandant of a Battalion and has often sent me soldiers who wish to retire from the Legion or sometimes he even assigns active soldiers here as duty. He would be ranked a Major in your country, Rachel.”
Rachel nodded thoughtfully. “That would work, Clarisse! How many do you think we could get? And would we have to ‘talk’ to each soldier, right?”
Clarisse shrugged. “We shall have to ask him and see. I’ve never asked for more than three or four, at most, at any one time. But this time I think a dozen would serve us well, do you agree? And yes, I always have a special chat with the ones he sends so that they do not note or remember anything that they might witness here.”
“Does this Commandant know of your nature?”
“Oh, most definitely, Rachel! We were sweethearts for a time, and if circumstances had been different I might have turned him. But, alas, they were not.” She went silent and looked sad, and neither Rachel nor Maria wanted to pry.
Maria and Rachel both thought that this was an excellent number to counterbalance the groups of four to eight they’d encountered previously. Maria shared her thoughts with Rachel and Clarisse. “We must overwhelm them with superior force, and capture as many as we can. We must find out more information. I do not like being blind and deaf in this matter!”
Clarisse frowned and shared something that was troubling her. “One thing I have found on the few occasions that I could enthrall what was obviously a group’s leader was that the two I have managed to capture were always very resistant to my mesmerizing. I had to put a great deal of effort into it. And, unlike with most humans, it wore off!”
Maria frowned and shook her head. “That is unheard of, Clarisse! Oh, I believe you, my dear. I have just never experienced such a thing. For sure, some humans are more resistant than others, but I have never had any thralls actually break free of my will!”
“It is all too true, yes, Maria. The first time I thought that maybe I had been careless, but twice marks a real problem here. I have some cells in the basement that I had constructed back when these Hunters started to pester me. We can store any prisoners we capture there.”
Rachel suddenly had a thought, and asked a key question that was bothering her. “When exactly did they first start pestering you, Clarisse?”
“The first one was not that long after I was turned, when Napoleon was down adventuring in Egypt. It was the summer of 1798, and it was a lone Hunter trying to stake me. I handled him without too much difficulty, and thought nothing more of it at that time.”
She shifted on the silk sheets and sighed. “Unfortunately, soon there was another about a year later. That was, hmm, not long before the Corsican was appointed Consul, in 1799. He was quite determined but I fought him off. I tried to enthrall him but he was forewarned and avoided it.”
Rachel nodded and spoke out loud for Clarisse’s benefit. “Maria, did any Hunters come after you in this era?”
Maria nodded excitedly. “Yes! Yes, indeed. It was around 1800 that I had a series of men try to kill me. It was in my little village that I have told you about. One of the killers was quite clever. He killed one of my male thralls and tried to impersonate him to get close to me. It did not work, but he came closer to killing me than any others.”
All three went silent, digesting the import of this clue they had discovered. Rachel voice what they were all thinking. “So, the Killers started their vampire hunting around the year 1800. So we know when all of this started. We don’t know what triggered their hunting, but at least we know when they began.”
Clarisse spoke before Rachel could get out her next sentence. “And now we turn to the Kidnappers!” She grinned at Rachel, knowing that she had leaped ahead of her next topic. “My first attempted kidnapping was just after spring in 1877. The Monarchists wanted to put a king on the throne but the Republicans did not. It was quite the governmental crisis — I was a Monarchist, of course. Anyway, five men came to my home in a carriage and tried to chain me up! I killed four and one got away. There was no chance to enthrall one, as they fought like wildcats against me.”
Maria became animated. “It was June of that year, and Romania had declared our independence from the Ottomans in May. The Russians came in on our side and that was when they captured me. I always blamed the Russians, and thought that it was the Priests of the Russian Orthodox Church who captured me! I thought that because two of my captors were indeed priests. It appears that I was wrong!”
Clarisse hopped off the bed and began pacing in her excitement. “It was providence that brought you to me, mon ami! Sharing our knowledge will help us figure out these crazy people at last!”
Rachel scooted to the edge of the bed and addressed her excited friend. “So, the Killers started around 1800, and the Kidnappers in 1877. We don’t know for sure if the two groups are related but they seem to at least know each other.”
Maria nodded, and shared their encounter with the English-accented man who had stabbed a Killer and then tried to lead them into an ambush.
“They do not like each other at all, our Killers and Kidnappers,” Clarisse stated, in response to what Maria related.
“No, they certainly do not. Maybe we can use that, when circumstances allow,” Maria replied.
Clarisse walked over to the windows and looked outside. The sky was slightly light to her eyes, so she knew that dawn wasn’t far away. “It is false dawn, my friends. Let us sleep and continue our plotting in the evening, tomorrow? And we can arrange to visit my friend and perhaps recruit some soldiers for our cause.”
She pressed a button and segmented metal curtains descended over the windows and clicked into place, blocking out the world outside. She then walked over to her bedroom door and slid a heavy bolt into place.
“I see you are big on security these days, Clarisse. I like what you have done here.”
“One cannot be too careful, and my servants keep the rest of the house quite secure as well. I know these measures would not stop a determined group, but that is not their function. They simply slow them down and give me time to awaken and ready myself. I have vowed that these Hunters will not catch me by surprise!”
She glided over to the bed and Rachel crawled back to the head of the bed to join her. They snuggled together under the peach-colored silk sheets and Rachel had a final thought for Maria. With her help, I think we are going to put an end to these people chasing us!
I hope that you are right, Rachel.
Clarissa closed her eyes and murmured “Bonne nuit, my friends!”
Maria and Rachel did not sleep quite yet. Maria wanted to chat for a bit. So, you really like her, eh?
Yes, I do, Maria! She is enchanting and very intelligent as well. The only thing I’ve not liked about her so far is her smoking, but she does it so rarely I that don’t mind, really.
Maria gave a mental shrug. I do not care about that at all, Rachel. I do agree with you about Clarisse, though. She is a good friend, and is an able ally for us. I think that with her help we may be able to finally free ourselves of this relentless pursuit and then find a place to settle down in peace. That is my utmost goal, to settle in a happy and secure home as I once did. Do you agree?
Most definitely, Maria. We are in harmony on this goal. I wonder if, after this is finally over, we might settle here with Clarisse, or maybe entice her to come to America with us when we go there.
I would welcome her company just as much as would you, Rachel. But I do not think that we should settle in London. I long to see your home country, and I have felt your homesickness many times since we joined together. Once this is over, let us ask her if she will come with us, if not forever then at least for a time?
I completely agree, Maria! Good night, my friend!
Rachel slipped off to sleep, still snuggled up against Clarisse as the sun rose.
The Duchess of Arad, Chapter 8
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The Duchess of Arad
Chapter 8
by Jenny Sugar
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar All Rights Reserved. |
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Rachel dithered over whether to bring up relocation to America, but since they had a long ride ahead of them, she plowed forward. “Clarisse, I have a question for you. After this war with the Hunters is finished, would you consider coming to America with us?”
Clarisse listened and then looked thoughtful, as she obviously was thinking about Rachel’s proposal. “I will not say yes or no right now, Rachel. I am torn of course. I want to stay with you and found a safe haven and spend much time together. But, I do not know if America is the place to do that. For that matter, I do not know if England or France is, either.”
“Why do you feel that any of those three is not a good place, Clarisse?” Rachel was honestly curious and couldn’t imagine someone not loving any or all of the three named countries.
Clarisse looked uncomfortable and didn’t seem sure how to respond. Maria sent a feeling of understanding and puzzled Rachel as well, though she didn’t comment.
Finally she answered, but seemed hesitant as if she was afraid of offending Rachel. “Rachel, my dear friend, please take no offense to what I say. The western democracies are full of good intentions, but I feel that they are all destined to fail eventually. Democracy works for a time, but eventually this will devolve into bankrupt nations and mob rule, then dictatorship.”
Rachel gaped at the woman, and felt even worse when Maria silently agreed with her. “Clarisse, I… I can’t agree with you there. America, especially, is a good example of what a nation should strive to be! France is not that different. And they are Republics, not Democracies, in reality.”
“Rachel I do not wish to argue politics with you! That is a sure route to disharmony and bad feelings! I will just say that both countries are becoming more a democracy and less a republic as time goes by. Look at your state of California, where the people often vote in these Propositions. It is often in the news. The state teeters on the edge of bankruptcy every year, partially due to this!”
Rachel nodded, conceding the point. “Look, I know that you and Maria both are Monarchists, for lack of a better term?”
Clarisse nodded and Maria took this opportunity to chime in. “Very much so, Rachel. Humans need strong leadership to prosper, not this counting of noses and letting the whim of mobs rule the country!” She shuddered at the very prospect.
“But strong leaders lead to things like World War Two, not-“
Clarisse interrupted her. “Stalin, Hitler, and even Franco were not leaders, Rachel! They were despots! There is a huge difference there. I will admit that a Republic is a grand notion and in the United States and France it has worked reasonably well for over two hundred years, more or less. But I do not see it lasting.”
Rachel pondered her answer while Maria spoke again. “Clarisse and I are perhaps products of our time; I know that you are thinking that, Rachel! But, I think that we both would agree that a wise leader who looks to the future and always keeps the health, safety, and happiness of his or her people foremost would trump a democracy, where the whims of the majority trample the minority.”
Clarisse nodded emphatically in agreement. Rachel thought privately that she was dealing with two nobles who just couldn’t identify with the dreams and hopes of the common man. Unfortunately, this was picked up by Maria.
“‘Dreams and hopes of the common man’? Bah! Rachel, please do not insult my intelligence, dear. I have lived high and low, and we know that Clarisse has, as well. With age comes wisdom, yes? Well, think about how old we both are and how much we have seen.”
Rachel felt a little tag-teamed when Clarisse nodded and said, “Exactly, Maria! And do not think me that far from the common man, Rachel. After the revolution I lived in some horrid circumstances, even once with a family of pig farmers! We had nothing! I had a dress that was little more than rags, for a time. That was all that I owned!”
She went on, with a twinkle in her eyes. “Rachel, I know that you think me a filthy rich noble whose decadence at times shocks you, yes? I live well, and I do not apologize for it. I had a hard life for many years, and even as recently as the 1940s I had things rough.”
Maria sounded contrite when she responded. “Oh, Rachel, please do not feel that either of us are condescending to you in our views. After seeing so much in our lives, I think that we both believe much the same things. It does not make you wrong, and ourselves right. I just feel strongly that your society teeters on a precipice and a strong wind would blow it off into chaos.”
“What do you see happening?” asked Rachel, honestly curious.
Clarisse responded first. “The world’s financial system is a huge house of cards, Rachel. And it is awaiting a small wind to bring it all down completely. This system you have of creating money from credit is insane, to me. You let bankers run rampant and in the end it will lead to bad things.”
Maria chimed in. “The number of people alive now is staggering, just awaiting some virus like the Black Death to run rampant through all countries. Disease has always been a worry for mankind, Rachel. Clarisse is quite correct, and I suspect that if the financial systems do not break down on their own, an epidemic would be the push that starts it all.”
Clarisse nodded. “I do not even speak of climate change, peak oil, natural resource scarcity, terrorism… ah so many possible woes that we stand on the brink of! But Rachel I am an optimist at heart, and I think that we shall overcome any and all problems, in the end. However, that does not mean that we will not see tough times. We will, I fear.”
Rachel sighed, thinking that these two were a real pair of grim predictors.
Maria snickered. “Rachel I am always, first and foremost, completely and totally honest with you. We both share our concerns, but nothing says that they will come true. And, so what if we disagree on political things? There are more important things!”
Clarisse put her arms around Rachel and hugged her tightly. “We shall agree to disagree on government and leaders, for now, eh mon ami? Let us revisit this topic in, oh, say one hundred years? And see which of us were closer to the target, eh?”
Rachel grinned and agreed with her. “You do have a gift for bringing the sun out from behind the clouds, Clarisse! And yes, both of you, we will agree to disagree on politics!”
Clarisse laughed softly. “We will not always agree on everything, Rachel. And politics and religion are two areas where you rarely will see that. As long as passions do not inflame things into arguing and petty insults, I do not see any difficulties in discussing them from time to time.”
Clarisse’s old friend lived in a modest-sized home not far from a Legion base. She knocked on the door and a Caporal answered. He obviously recognized her as he led her and Rachel into the home.
He called out to someone and then bowed to the two women and departed.
A very tall and handsome man walked into the room and smiled at them. He looked to be much younger than the fifty years of age that Clarisse had told them he was. His hair was cut military style and only showed a few touches of gray around the temples. His eyes were a piercing blue beneath thick brows. He had a strong chin and the harsh planes of his face were offset by a ready smile that always seemed to reach his eyes.
“Bonsoir, Mademoiselles! Clarisse, it is so good to see you again! And who is this lovely woman you bring with you to delight my eyes?”
“Bonsoir, Julien! Rachel, I would like you to meet Commandant Julien Laurent, of the Foreign Legion. Julien, this is my dear friend Rachel Harrison.”
Julien took Rachel’s hand and bowed while he kissed it. She smiled and said “It is a pleasure to meet you, Commandant Laurent.”
“Non! It is I who has all of the pleasure tonight, in the company of two such lovely and elegant ladies! Welcome to my humble home, please come sit and talk with a lonely old man.”
Clarisse and Rachel followed him into his den, and sat side by side on a loveseat as he took the chair facing them. Clarisse smirked and said “Lonely, Julien? Such a fable!” She turned to Rachel, “Julien has his pick of lovely women from everywhere but cannot seem to choose one and settle down!”
Julien laughed and shook his head. “Ah Clarisse, but I always wait for you, as you know! Why settle for second best, when the most beautiful woman in France is right here!”
Clarisse gave him a mock frown, and then dissolved into giggles. “Your pardon, Rachel. We always flirt and fence with one another. We settled that long ago, as you well know, Julien!”
Julien stood, walked over to Clarisse, and kissed her on the cheek, before returning to his seat. “Yes we did, my lovely Lady. Now, I know that you did not come here just to break my heart once more. What can I do for you my dear friend? Anything that I have or can get is yours. You but have to ask me.”
Clarisse smiled at Julien and then sighed. “It is those fils de putain once again, Julien.” Rachel blinked at her uncharacteristic foul language.
Julien stood up out of his chair, angry. “Merde! When will they stop this? How many of my men did they kill this time, Clarisse? And I hope that you were not harmed?”
Clarisse shook her head. “Not a one, yet, Julien. My friend Rachel and I have decided that it is time to end their crusade against our kind. They are after her, as well. We came to ask you for slightly more support. Not three or four soldiers but a dozen! And not as guards, but as soldiers to hunt these vermin down at last!”
Julien clapped his hands. “Bravo, Clarisse! And I applaud you as well, Rachel, especially if you were the catalyst that convinced our Clarisse to go on the offensive! I have often counseled her to stop fighting a defensive war with these people!”
Clarisse laughed and Rachel giggled, but both nodded. Rachel said, “Yes, my arrival here was a good thing for us both. I think that they would eventually have gotten me. Clarisse saved my life when she appeared. Four of them had me cornered!”
Julien shook his head and looked sadly at both of them. “You know, I could see capturing you and locking you away if you went about indiscriminately killing people and leaving a trail of bodies. But I know from Clarisse that you do not do this. You take what you need and you try not to harm people. You do not deserve to be hunted down like rabid dogs.”
He paced around the room as he continued. “When Clarisse revealed her true nature to me, I was stunned, of course. But I had known her for some time already by then, and knew her to be a woman of character, who would not harm anyone if she could but avoid it. I have happily helped her against these swine that hunt her, and will again. Of course you will have my help, Clarisse, and you as well, Rachel. How soon do you need these men?”
Both women smiled at Julien and Clarisse looked at Rachel with an eyebrow raised. Rachel asked the Commandant, “How long would it take you to recruit twelve to help us?”
He sat back down and rubbed his chin while he considered her question. “At the fastest, including travel time to Clarisse’s estate, probably two days, my dear. You need experienced men, both for your own sake and theirs as well. I would not send recruits in against these Hunters of yours.”
Rachel and Clarisse looked at each other and Rachel nodded. Clarisse smiled warmly at her old friend. “Julien, that would be splendid. Just send them to my estate, please? I will do the usual… adjustments, so that they will not have any fantastic stories to tell. They will just have memories of boring guard duty and training, no?”
Julien laughed and nodded. “As per usual, dear lady, that will be good.”
Maria had a question on her mind. “Julien, could you make sure that one of the men is an officer who is good with tactics and hand-to-hand combat? I believe that would better the odds for us.”
“But of course, Rachel! I’d intended as much, anyway.”
She nodded. “This is good. We may be stronger and faster, but their strength worries me somewhat, and none of us have any training in combat.”
Clarisse stood and walked over to Julien, who then also stood. She took his hands for a moment and looked into his eyes. “Julien, I always wish that we could have shared more, but I understand why we cannot. I appreciate all that you do for me, truly. You have been a hero to me countless times.”
Julien took Clarisse in his arms and hugged her tightly. “You need never thank me, Clarisse. Just having you in my life has been thanks enough. Please let me know if anything happens and I will personally take leave and come to you.”
Clarisse placed a warm kiss on his lips and shared a smile with Rachel. Rachel could see why she was attracted to this man, indeed.
They took their leave of Julien and got back in the rental car they’d procured earlier. Rather than make the long drive back to Calais and then to London they chose to drive into Paris and spend the day at a hotel.
They spent the rest of their evening enjoying each other’s company in various ways, which deepened the connection to each other. Later, in the afterglow, Clarisse told Rachel and Maria that when this was over, she might very well come across the Atlantic with them. At least, for a time, she added.
Rachel finally asked about Julien. “Clarisse, I sensed a lot of history between you and Julien? If I am prying please forgive me, but you looked so sad.”
Clarisse shook her head. “You are not prying and it is not a secret, Rachel. I revealed my nature to him over twenty years ago, when he was a sergeant. I asked him to join me but he refused. He felt that to voluntarily become a vampire was an offense against God. I respected his feelings and we parted at that time. We have remained friends, however.”
“I am sorry, Clarisse. He seems quite a man, and soldier.”
She smiled fondly. “He is an extremely honorable and loyal man, Rachel. He was quite taken with me, and I him. If not for his religious concerns you might very well have found us as a couple when you came here.”
Maria added, “Again you show remarkable restraint, Clarisse, not to mention that you have acted very honorably yourself in this matter. Some would have turned him against his will, but you asked, and then honored his refusal. That is true honor and I must say that you have gained my respect many times over since we met.”
Clarisse was moved by Maria’s words and they saw her eyes moisten with tears. She wiped her eyes and gave her dazzling smile in answer.
They turned in and spent the day sleeping and undisturbed. The next evening they arose and went out hunting for a short time before leaving for London. Nothing untoward occurred and they saw no suspicious men or felt any eyes upon them during the entire visit to France. Rachel remarked on this curious turn of events.
“Maybe they have us down as being in London, so coming back over here to France has thrown them off? Of course we still don’t know how they are tracking us, either.”
“This is a good thing, Rachel, for now at least. I’d prefer they attack after we get our soldiers in place. Hopefully this will work, I can think of many things that I would prefer to be doing than playing soldier!”
As they were headed toward Calais, Clarisse’s cell phone rang. She spoke briefly to someone then tossed the phone into her purse with a frown. She fished a cigarette out of her purse and lit it with an angry snap of her gold lighter and turned to Rachel, who was driving. Clarisse rarely drove, always preferring to have a driver.
“Just a few minutes ago my guards caught a Killer trying to sneak in to the Estate. They had a firefight and killed him, but not before he killed one of my men! It appears that he was coming to camp out. He had rations that my guards said would last several days. He was trying to pry open a window into one of the guest rooms.”
Rachel’s frown joined Clarisse’s. Maria voiced her and Rachel’s thoughts. “This is more proof that they can track us, Clarisse. This Killer knew that we were not at home, and so brought food with him to await our return and then surprise us while we slept.”
Clarisse fumed and puffed and finally growled, “I feel so violated when they trespass into my home like this! And they killed one of my men, which makes me so furious! How dare they come into my home and do this! We will end this, soon.”
They rode the train back to England through the Channel Tunnel with no incidents or, to their knowledge, anyone tracking them or watching their movements. After disembarking they found Clarisse’s limousine waiting with her driver and an extra guard along with him. They climbed into the limo and headed for London and the Estate.
Clarisse insisted on seeing her dead guard’s body upon arriving home. She caressed the dead man’s cheek and whispered something in French before standing up and gesturing at the other men to take his body away.
She told Rachel that his body would be returned to Julien, and if he had a family they would get a payment from her to cover burial expenses and help them through their loss.
“Do you pay this weregild to every soldier’s family?” Maria asked.
“Yes, I feel it is my duty to help their family if one dies in my service. Julien says that it has helped some greatly. It does not bring back the dead man, but I feel that I must do something for his family.”
Maria smiled and Rachel agreed with her sentiment. “You are truly a woman of honor, Clarisse.”
They slept the next day away and when they awakened that evening they snacked and debated whether to go clubbing or stay home and keep a watch for trouble. Staying home won out, and soon Clarisse was entertaining them at her grand piano, in her music room. It seemed that the graceful woman could not only dance well, but had played piano for many years, and her talent impressed Rachel greatly.
Maria showcased her singing ability with a little coaxing from Rachel. Clarisse was delighted to hear her sing, and joined in on a few songs that they both knew. Her singing voice was not the equal of Maria’s, but was still quite impressive to Rachel.
About mid-evening they retired to Clarisse’s bedroom for some intimate fun, and once again the saucy blonde took Rachel, and Maria, to new heights of orgasmic bliss with seemingly little effort. Rachel was a fast learner, however, and with a few tips and comments from Maria was excelling at driving Clarisse mad with lust and orgasms of her own.
The next evening, when they came downstairs they found Sergeant Corwin Atkins waiting for them in the parlor. He kissed both of their hands and asked for layouts of the estate and wanted to discuss plans and procedures. He was British, they learned, as soon as they heard his accent. Clarisse informed him that her head of security would brief him on all he needed to know about the estate and what they had in place.
He gave her a quick nod and said, “Commandant Laurent said that I am to protect you both with my life, and to capture, if at all possible, as many of these attackers that can be caught. Do you have quarters for my men? We will only need bed space for four at a time; the rest will be on duty in shifts.”
“Yes, there are several guest rooms, and you and your men are free to use them, and you will also be well-fed while you are here. My home is yours during your stay here, Sergeant!”
“Very good, my Lady. Commandant Laurent also said that you both are night owls, that you prefer sleeping in the daytime and that you are up mostly at night?”
Rachel answered, “Yes, we both are nocturnal people by nature. Is this a problem, Sergeant?”
“No, not at all, Miss Rachel. I just needed to confirm that so as to plan my guard rotations and the like. Is there any certain time these men seem to attack?”
Clarisse nodded. “Yes, they often come at dawn. Sometimes as late as mid-morning, but usually within that time frame. The Kidnappers have come at night, a few times. But the Killers seem to prefer dawn, mostly.”
“Excellent. I’ll take that under consideration, then. If you will excuse me, I will go meet with your head of security and make our plans. I’ll see you both soon?”
“That is well, Sergeant. But, there is one a last thing. I would like to meet you and all of your men, shortly, before we begin this operation?”
“Most certainly, my Lady! We could meet you here in, shall we say, an hour?” Clarisse nodded her approval.
He bowed to her and to Rachel, then snapped to attention, and headed to meet her head of security, who also happened to be her limo driver.
Almost exactly an hour later Atkins escorted his men into the room, where Clarisse and Rachel were waiting. They were all dressed in simple camouflage uniforms, with no Foreign Legion insignia to be seen. They were, after all, in England and were there very unofficially.
He introduced each man and each man bowed to the lovely ladies that they were here to defend, to the death. After the introductions, Clarisse stepped back and caught each man’s gaze and held it, briefly.
Once she had done this to them all, she explained to them that she and Rachel were vampires, that this was not a bad thing, and that they were not to speak of this amongst themselves or to anyone, ever. She also explained about the Kidnappers and the Killers, and each groups apparent goals and methods.
Clarisse ended the trance for her soldiers and smiled at them all. “I appreciate your being here, my friends, and your dedication to your duty. I have high hopes that you shall help end this constant war against me and my friend here.”
Atkins yelled, “Dis-missed!” and the men all filed out of the room. He then handed each woman a small device, which he said was a communicator. “It is like a walkie-talkie, but is scrambled and quite small and unobtrusive, as you can see. If there is trouble one of us will call you on them. And if you spot trouble before we do, heaven forbid, all you need do is press this button and yell for help.”
He said that they would be taking their appointed stations now, bowed, and left the room as well.
Maria remarked, “He seems to be a good one. I think that we are in good hands, girls.”
They spent some time with the piano, and then watched a movie in Clarisse’s movie theater. Rachel was beginning to become inured to the extravagance, and she honestly enjoyed the ambiance in the theater. Clarisse had chosen the movie, in the spirit of the situation they found themselves in. She had a vast collection, and she played The Magnificent Seven as their movie.
After the movie, Maria spoke up and suggested some fun upstairs, and Clarisse’s instant grin was all the acceptance they needed to see. Maria told Rachel that she thought that Rachel was getting addicted to all the sex with Clarisse. Rachel felt that it was absolutely true.
After quite a bit of “fun time” Clarisse suggested a bubble bath to relax. This sounded excellent to them all and she led Rachel to her bathroom. She had just thought she was becoming used to the extravagance, however.
She gasped at the opulence when she first entered the room. Marble floors, marble tub, gold-plated faucets, and recessed lighting with dimmers made the place look incredible. A servant filled the massive marble tub, a tub with room for six, easily. She left and they both disrobed and walked down into the hot water and bubbles. Rachel found a seat at one end and she and Clarisse sat beside each other and relaxed.
“This is magnificent, Clarisse. I know I felt a little put off by all of the opulence here. But it is growing on me!”
Clarisse’s beautiful laughed echoed throughout the bathroom and she replied. “After the rough childhood and bad times in my life, I promised myself that I would spare no expense to totally spoil myself in every way that I could. After two hundred years of accumulating wealth and building it with investments, that is something that I can easily afford to do!”
They scrubbed each other’s back and other body parts, which set Maria to giggling inside Rachel’s head. Remember the last time we discussed this, Rachel? It seems we have solved our back-scrubbing problem, yes?
You are right, Maria! This is wonderful, isn’t it?
She shared their thoughts with Clarisse, who giggled and said “I wish that I could talk to you both in my head as you do with each other. But, yes, it is so wonderful having you here with me. I have been so lonely for so many years! I love humans and their companionship, but you are special. You know what my life is like, and we share a special bond.”
A short time later they got out of the tub, Rachel a bit regretfully. They dried each other off with huge terrycloth towels and went on into Clarisse’s boudoir to get dressed. They brushed out each other’s hair and spent some time deciding which nightgowns they’d prefer. Dawn was not far away.
About the time they were finished dressing the communicators that Sergeant Atkins had given them both chirped.
Rachel ran over to the dresser where they lay and picked one up, and heard Atkin’s voice come out of it. “My ladies? We have nine intruders in two SUVs that rammed through the gate and are disembarking in the driveway right now. My Commandant said that you would wish to be involved in the defense. If you would care to join me downstairs, we will deal with this?”
Rachel pressed the button and told him that they would be right down. They switched clothing plans and Clarisse pulled out black denim jeans and a pair of black cotton blouses she’d already put aside for this moment. Rachel mentioned that they both looked like ninjas now.
Maria snorted, and said out loud, “What is with you and these ninjas, Rachel? We must discuss this when we have more time!” Clarisse just giggled. Rachel recalled asking Maria the same question once about Russians, and laughed in appreciation of the joke.
They both tied their hair back in a pony-tail and grabbed their communicators. Rachel turned to Clarisse with a grim look and nodded, ready to go.
It was on!
The Duchess of Arad, Chapter 9
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The Duchess of Arad
Chapter 9
by Jenny Sugar
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar All Rights Reserved. |
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Upon reaching the bottom of the staircase they found Atkins waiting on them. He was talking in his headset to his men, and gave them both a quick nod and gestured them to follow. Rachel happened to notice that the boots she and Clarisse wore matched Atkin’s footwear.
This woman leaves no detail overlooked, Maria! She amazes me.
I have noticed this Rachel, and I very much admire her.
They spilled out the double-doors into the front porch area and then down the steps to where the driveway curved in around a fountain. Beyond the spray of water they could see a group of men, all dressed in black, marching towards the manor. They were advancing cautiously, some armed with semi-automatic weapons held ready.
Corwin barked orders into his headset microphone, and received numerous acknowledgements within seconds. One of his soldiers came running up behind and placed himself beside Rachel, while Corwin flanked Clarisse.
“Ladies, as we planned, let us slowly withdraw and pull them in!”
They slowly backed away from the intruders to an area to the right of the manor spotted with fruit trees.
Several of their soldiers were up in the trees, armed with tranquilizer guns rather than conventional weapons. They had told Corwin that they wanted prisoners, and the man was doing his utmost to provide them.
Rachel’s vision was much better since her conversion and she was able to spot the leader of the opposition quickly. He was hanging back in the rear of the enemy formation, and sported a goatee. She mentally marked him as an important target as she, Atkins, and Clarisse all broke for cover around the trees and flowering bushes.
The men in black did not hesitate at all when they reached the front of the manor, but plowed ahead into the trees, weapons ready. Clarisse noted that most of them had a set of chains with four manacles slung over their shoulders — presumably for herself and Rachel to wear. She frowned and grimly stated that she would not be wearing any manacles or chains today.
As the men entered the area and passed the first tree, multiple “pfutt” sounds occurred and four of the men dropped to the ground, tranquilizers already working. The remaining five men scattered and found cover.
At least two of them raised their semi-auto weapons and began spraying the trees and bushes. Rachel was nicked by one bullet in her upper arm, but shrugged it off, knowing she would heal soon enough. She knew she’d need blood soon enough, though. Healing seemed to use up blood at a phenomenal rate.
The one that had shot her now sported a tranquilizer dart in his throat and fell over face-first into the grass. She smiled, silently thanking whichever of their soldiers did the deed.
Bullets were flying in all directions from the enemy soldiers, and Rachel’s chief concern was that none of their own soldiers were killed. She glanced around and didn’t see anyone down or worse, dying. She felt the inner tingle that meant Maria wanted control and she let go.
Maria was keeping a sharp eye out for the goateed man who was in charge. She had spotted him circle past two trees and kept Rachel looking out for him as the bullets continued to fly. Atkin’s men laid down covering fire to keep the enemy pinned down, with no intent to kill them.
The enemy leader had a Bluetooth headset on, talking nonstop. She pointed him out to Clarisse and the Frenchwoman instantly grasped what was up and they both headed toward him at a furious run. They separated and came around the tree from both sides.
They leaped almost simultaneously on him and bore him to the ground, while Clarisse yanked a pair of handcuffs from her belt she’d brought along for just this reason. They wrestled his hands behind his back and she snapped the cuffs on. Rachel leaped back up and knocked unconscious one of the men coming to rescue his commander. She took his manacles and chains and soon he was wearing them.
She spun around, checking in all directions for threats, and then came back to the commander of the soldiers they had caught. She kept the commander down on the ground with one foot on his back. She relieved him of his headset and listened to see if she could learn anything useful. She nodded at Clarisse, letting her know things were secure, here.
He cursed at her in Russian, then in English but she paid him no attention at all, wanting to keep focused on the fighting for now. She did note that he spoke English, in case that came up, later.
Clarisse darted up behind another one of the kidnappers who was fighting with one of the Legion soldiers with knives. She leaped on to his back, pulled the man’s head to the side and battened on him as he flailed about in a panic. Their soldier took the opening and slashed the man’s arm, forcing him to drop the knife.
Soon the enemy soldier fainted from blood loss and Clarisse dropped his body, still alive but completely out of action.
Atkins came over to Rachel and put his back up against hers, realizing the importance of her prisoner. She nodded at him and pondered whether to try to move him to safety or stay here and keep an eye on the battle.
Maria answered that. Best to stay here at this tree than move and risk him being shot. We need this man and the information he has. Turn his head up and stare into his eyes, Rachel. I want to put him to sleep so he is no trouble.
Rachel spoke to Atkins. “Corwin, turn his head and if you have to hold his eyes open so I can see them for a moment, would you?”
Atkins nodded and wrestled the man’s head into position as she’d asked. She locked eyes with the man and Maria said one word to him. “Sleep!” He was out cold in seconds.
Corwin snorted and remarked, “Handy, that.”
Maria giggled. “You have no idea!”
She whirled around, searching for Clarisse, and found her down and wrestling with another black-clothed soldier. Before Rachel could move, Clarisse punched him in the face several times and he was out. She hopped up and looked around, fangs out, mouth bloody, looking quite dangerous.
Clarisse saw Rachel looking towards her and grinned, fangs slowly pulling back in. Rachel felt Maria say in her head “Dieu merci, elle est vivante!” and was puzzled for a moment. Since when do you talk to me in French, Maria?
Evidently Maria was too, as she spluttered at Rachel. I did not say that! That sounded like Clarisse to me, Rachel!
Rachel stood, gaping at Clarisse as she walked up. “Clarisse, did you just think to yourself, “Thank God she is alive” when you looked at me?”
Clarisse smiled and nodded. “Yes, I did, Rachel. How did you know that?”
“Because I heard it, in your voice, inside my head, Clarisse!” replied a still-shocked Rachel.
The woman looked quite surprised but she also shook her head. “This is something we must look into further, and soon! But right now, let us take stock of these trespassing fils de putain and begin to get some answers!”
Rachel smirked, thinking that ‘sons of whores’ was beginning to catch on as their enemies’ official designation. As Rachel turned, a shot rang out from behind one of the trees out beyond the area they had been fighting in, and Clarisse hit the ground, blood pouring from her chest. Rachel growled and ran towards the source of the shot, fangs extended. She was a blur, moving so fast that Atkins did not even see her move.
She reached the place and found a man with a rifle just shoving the receiver shut, readying to take another shot. She hissed and pounced on him, and nearly ripped his throat open as she tore into it in anger. She drank almost a pint before she calmed down slightly and licked his wound closed. She grabbed his leg and dragged him back over to where Clarisse lay.
Atkins was cradling Clarisse’s head in his lap, watching her chest wound slowly begin to close. She opened her eyes and hissed, fangs out and face contorted with pain. Rachel dragged her prisoner over close to her and said, “Here, Clarisse, drink! You need blood, I can tell!”
Clarisse nodded weakly and fastened on to the man’s throat and began to feed. She obviously had needed the blood because she drained the man dry in a very short time. As she fed, the man struggled but he could not break Rachel’s and Clarisse’s combined grip. Soon he was still.
She slowly stood, wound healed over and the pain on her face receded. She spared a glance at the corpse lying at her feet and shrugged. “I do not kill indiscriminately, but for you, I made an exception.”
She glanced at Rachel, but Rachel offered no condemnation of her act at all. She still explained, “His intent was to kill me, so I do feel justified in returning the favor. Intent, to me, is not much different than actions.”
Rachel did not feel the least bit bothered by Clarisse’s kill, and of course neither did Maria. She took Clarisse’s hand and squeezed tightly, glad that her friend and lover was not permanently injured or worse. Clarisse returned the squeeze and gave Rachel a bright smile, eyes twinkling.
“It takes more than a bullet to keep a tough Frenchwoman down, mon ami!” She tsked at the bullet hole in her blouse, then reached inside and retrieved the bullet which had popped back out of her chest. She passed it to Rachel and said “Souvenir?”
Rachel rolled her eyes and tossed the bullet aside, bringing a grin from Clarisse. The fighting had stopped and things were now quiet. She turned to Atkins. “Let us see what we have collected, shall we?”
They went back towards the manor entrance and found six men lying in the grass, all of them trussed up in their own shackles they’d so nicely provided. All of them were gagged, blindfolded, and chained securely. Most of them were also unconscious. Atkins took in the scene and checked on his men.
“My lady, we have two wounded, but none severely. No deaths on our side, two on theirs. And six prisoners! A good resolution, would you agree?”
Clarisse beamed at Atkins, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “My dear Sergeant, this is a wonderful resolution. But, we are missing one, no?”
He nodded ruefully and gestured to one of his men to report.
“Ma’am, one of them did get away. Made it back to one of their SUVs and took off while you were… indisposed.”
“Merde! Ah, I suppose it could not be helped. Do not fret, Sergeant, you and your men did an excellent job!”
Atkins gave her a short bow, obviously happy with her praise.
“Now, if you and your men would kindly lock these men down in the basement? A cell for each, I think, would be best.”
She walked over to the goateed leader and smirked. “But leave this one for us; we are going to have a long chat with him.”
“Oh, and Sergeant? Have your men search those SUVs thoroughly later today when they can, and report to me tonight if they find anything at all.”
Atkins saluted and ran off to see to her orders.
They carefully bound the man to a metal chair that Clarisse sat in the center of one of her garages. There were not any cars in the garage at present. Her cars were in her primary garage. Rachel had rolled her eyes at having two garages and so many cars and Clarisse had smirked and poked her in the ribs.
Clarisse began smacking the man in the face to revive him and soon he was wide awake and glaring. This might have been because she smacked him a lot longer than necessary to wake him up.
She stopped and his eyes fell on Rachel. The man grinned insolently at her. “Pokazhi pizdu detka!” Rachel wasn’t sure what he said but Maria knew all too well.
She casually backhanded him, sending blood spraying as the corner of his lip was torn. “I am not showing you my cunt or anything else, Russian pig!”
Rachel spoke up, “Umm, Clarisse you might want to handle this one. Maria has… issues, with Russians. She might kill him.”
Maria sniffed but did not object as Rachel backed away and Clarisse walked in close to their prisoner.
The man spat blood at her feet and smirked at her. “I speak English too, vampire whore! There is some blood for you — why don’t you lick it off the floor!”
Clarisse smiled at him sweetly and then casually reached down and broke his pinky finger. “Firstly we will remember our manners here, or we will regret it. Am I understood?”
He groaned, but then spat blood in her face and smirked.
Rachel feared that Clarisse would fly into a rage but she simply wiped the blood off her face with her fingers, she then sniffed it curiously. She touched it to her tongue, and then wiped her fingers off on his shirt. She looked intently at him for a moment, and looked to be lost in thought.
She shook her head and glared at their captive.” I think we’ve had enough of your insolence, my new Russian friend.” She moved and in a flash she had his head cradled between her hands and was staring deeply into his eyes. Her fangs extended as she put every ounce of energy in her being into enthralling the man.
He was obviously resisting, at first. But she kept staring and kept mentally pushing at him and after a few minutes his will crumbled and his body relaxed under her power. She let go of his face and backed away, but kept her gaze locked on his.
“You will answer any question that I, or Rachel, here, ask of you. You will answer completely and speak only the truth, nothing more. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” The man replied as if drugged, and sat limply under her spell. He answered in a monotone.
“You were the leader of this group, yes?”
“Yes.”
“What is your name?”
“Vasily Popov.”
“Why were you trying to kidnap us, Vasily?”
“I was ordered to.”
“By whom? What is his name? What does he do?”
“The boss. Arkady Volkov. He is the leader of our gang.”
“What gang? Where is it based?”
“The Wolf Pack, he calls us. We are based in Bucharest.” Maria’s eyebrows raised — she’d been expecting them to be based in Russia.
Rachel said, “Werewolves?”
Maria snorted. “Nay. Volkov is a common Russian surname, meaning wolf or wolf’s. Their leader is a bit vain, I would guess.”
Clarisse could see that Rachel was about to veer the topic to werewolves and held up her hand and shook her head. She continued with the questions they had discussed asking before the battle. “Why does this Arkady Volkov wish us captured? What does he intend to do with us?”
“He has a use for vampires. He has told me directly that we must not exterminate every last one. I do not know exactly what he does with them. He will not tell us. He plans to chain you up in a cell, as Maria once was.”
Maria hissed and walked over to him. “How do any of you know me?”
“Our order imprisoned you centuries ago. We are all under orders to recapture you at all costs.”
Maria bristled. “Why?! Why must you recapture me?”
“I do not know. Arkady does not usually explain his orders, and asking him ‘why’ is not ever a good idea.”
Clarisse went on. “Who are these men who try to kill us rather than capture us?”
“They once were with us, and we all had the same goal — to eradicate all vampires in the world. But Arkady’s father decided to keep some imprisoned rather than wipe them all out.”
“Why? And this man’s father imprisoned Maria?”
“I do not know, and yes, so he said.”
Maria spluttered. “That is impossible! I was imprisoned in 1877!”
The man offered no response. Clarisse shook her head. “We will return to this. Why does this Wolf Pack wish to destroy all vampires?”
“Vampires are evil. If we do not destroy them, they will destroy mankind.”
Clarisse snorted. “And this gang was responsible for killing all the vampires in France and England?”
“Yes. We have cleansed all of Europe over time. There are only two bloodsuckers left, and Arkady wanted you captured rather than killed.”
“How many people are in this Wolf Pack?”
“I do not know, exactly.”
“Give me your best guess, as a minimum and a maximum.”
“There are at least fifty, but not more than one hundred, presently. We lost many in our attacks here over the years.”
“How many are among the Wolf Pack that wants to kill us, rather than capture us?”
“Roughly twenty left, I would say. They are not so numerous as they once were.”
“How do members of the Wolf Pack track us?” Rachel asked.
“I do not know. We are called and told where you are.”
“Who calls you and informs you where we are?”
“By Arkady himself, or his lieutenants.”
“And how do they inform you of our location? Street names, GPS coordinates, or what?”
“GPS usually, though at times we have just been told to go to the French Whore’s home.”
Clarisse showed no reaction to the term and continued on. “Where is Arkady right now?”
“I do not know. He was in Calais yesterday. He sent us here today.”
“When are you to report in to him?”
“After we have failed or have captured you.”
“By cell phone?”
“Yes.”
She held up the cell phone that had been removed from his pocket, and the Bluetooth device that was paired with it. “This phone, here?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any secret code words or phrases that you use with Arkady to prove that you are not under any duress?”
“No, but — we are instructed to ask Arkady to bring vodka if we are in such a situation.” Rachel laughed at the phrase, but was also impressed that Clarisse had thought to ask such a thing.
“Did he know that you were attacking this morning, or was there some set time?”
“We were to determine if you were here, then attack. No set time.”
“When does he expect you to check in?”
“Any time within the next twenty-four hours he will expect a report of success, or failure.” Rachel raised an eyebrow at Clarisse, who nodded in reply. An opening they could use to trap Mr. Volkov, perhaps.
Clarisse thoughtfully tapped her index finger on her chin for a moment. “What do you and your men get out of this? What is your motivation to work for Arkady? Does he pay you?”
Her rapid questions did not seem to bother him. “We get satisfaction from stopping the vampires. That is our motivation. Most of us have seen vampires so we know that they are real. Yes, he pays us enough to live on.”
Rachel looked out the tinted garage window and noticed the sun rising. She turned to Clarisse. “The sun is rising, Clarisse. Shall we save more questions for tonight? I am tired, myself.”
Clarisse nodded in agreement. “Rachel I am extremely tired as well. Let us go rest, and we will have Corwin’s men keep an eye on this one and the others while we sleep.” She turned to their captive and said “Go to sleep, and do not awaken until you hear my voice again!” The man’s head fell down, and he was sound asleep almost instantly.
They left instructions with Corwin and went upstairs to Clarisse’s suite. One of her servants had thoughtfully lowered the metal blinds for them. Rachel remarked on this and Clarisse was not the least bit defensive, but more amused.
“Rachel my dear, you tend to think of my servants as prisoners of my will or something like that. You should begin to see that they love me, and I in turn take very good care of them. I only use my power to keep them silent about who and what I am to the outside world. Otherwise, they are here of their own free will.”
Rachel understood and was contrite. “I am sorry, Clarisse, I do see what you are saying. I am adjusting to a lot of things here.”
Clarisse smiled and told her to think nothing more of it. She bolted the door and they snuggled into the silk sheets. Clarisse sensed that Maria and Rachel wanted to talk, and welcomed the notion.
Rachel brought up what was bothering her most, first. “Clarisse, Maria and I heard you quite clearly in my head when you were saying to yourself you were glad we were still alive. How is that possible? And can we do it again? I could see that being a very useful ability!”
For her answer, Clarisse stared intently at Rachel and was obviously concentrating hard. Rachel relaxed and tried to ‘listen’ with her mind but heard nothing.
Clarisse sighed and shook her head. “Yes, I was trying to send you something but it is not working, now. This is something we shall have to spend some time working on, but not tonight!”
Maria responded. “I have not experienced such a thing but I agree that when we have time we need to try to duplicate what happened. But, before we rest, let us discuss what we have learned?”
Clarisse agreed. “Mm, we have learned much about our enemies, my friends. But I feel that there is much more to learn as well, no?”
Rachel happily answered. “Let’s see what we have, here. The Wolf Pack began as a group to exterminate all vampires. They had some kind of split about their goals, right around the time they imprisoned Maria. The larger portion of the split wants to cage at least two of us. The remainder wants us completely eradicated.”
“Yes, Rachel, that is a good summation. I, for one, think that we can lay a trap for this Arkady, if we are devious and put to good use this man that we captured.”
Maria chimed in. “I agree, Clarisse. We need to get the head of the snake, certainly. I do wonder if everything that he said was absolute truth, though.”
Clarisse replied. “I sensed no pushing back from him when we interrogated him. From all that I could tell he was telling the truth — at least the truth as he knows it.”
“Ah yes, I was thinking about that myself, Clarisse. So he’s being truthful to us, but what he knows to be true and what is true may be two different things,” Rachel mused.
“Oui, Rachel. We shall find out more tonight, and perhaps we can plan a trap and finally put an end to all of this nonsense. I do not know how we will stop the second group, though I-”
The communicator on the nightstand beside her beeped, and she picked it up and pressed the button. “Yes, Corwin? Is there a problem?”
His voice came out of the device. “No, my lady, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve posted a guard outside of your bedroom door, guards on the prisoners, and the manor is secure. I bid you a good day’s sleep!”
“Thank you, Corwin! Please awaken us if there are any disturbances. And please give Julien a full report so that he will not worry?”
“I will do that immediately, my lady. Good day!”
She laid the communicator back in its place and turned back to Rachel and caressed her cheek. “We did well today, darling, and I must once again say how wonderful it is to have you here and in my life — both of you!”
“We both feel the same way about you, Clarisse,” Rachel replied softly, then leaned in and kissed her beautiful friend gently on the lips. “I was terrified when you were shot that you might somehow be killed by it, and I think Maria and I would have been devastated if that happened. We love you, and once this little war ends, we want to spend a lot more time with you.”
Her brilliant smile answered more than words could have. They both slipped off to sleep, each with a smile on her lips.
The Duchess of Arad, Chapter 10
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The Duchess of Arad
Chapter 10
by Jenny Sugar
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar All Rights Reserved. |
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The next evening, Clarisse led them down to the cells as soon as they had dressed, and the two of them feasted on their prisoners. They each took about a pint, leaving the men slightly spaced out but alive.
She and Rachel each interrogated the survivors to confirm what they had been told previously by the men’s commander. Nothing of any use was learned, other than to find out that he had not told them any lies.
Clarisse decided that the men could stay in her cells for now, and left orders with her staff to feed them.
Clarisse and Rachel then went in search of Corwin Atkins, who they found in the kitchen snacking on some ice cream.
“It is my weakness, my lady. Your cook was kind enough to offer some and I could not resist!” he exclaimed.
Clarisse giggled and assured him that he could have all that he wanted and then went on to more pressing matters.
“Corwin, I would like you to have your men riddle the first SUV out there with bullet holes. Not a ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ thing but a good handful? Then, toss a grenade in it and let it burn for a bit before you put it out.”
Atkins looked puzzled at the order but answered immediately. “It shall be done my lady, at once. Do you have any further tasks for my men tonight, beyond their keeping watch? We are all at your disposal for as long as you need us, I hope you know.”
“No, not at the moment, Corwin, you may all do as you need to do. I wish to thank you and all of your men for such an excellent job of defending my home yesterday. All of you have earned a special gift that I shall bestow on you all before you leave my home.”
Atkins started protesting that they were only doing their duty and that no gifts or remuneration was required when she silenced him with a quick kiss on the lips. “That will be enough arguing, Corwin. I like to bestow gifts on those who serve me well, or do something special for me. So, no more of that, off you go to start your evening!”
Having been dismissed, he offered her a short bow and headed off to have his men trash an SUV.
“Care to share your master plan with us slower folks, Clarisse?” Rachel asked with a smirk. She was trying to work out what the devious woman was up to and coming up blank.
“Oh, I should let you percolate all evening trying to figure this one out!” she said impishly, offering a giggle. “But I will not do that to you. I think that we need to lure this Arkady here, and I want him to see a warzone when he arrives. I want him to come in here as a prideful conqueror and leave here as our pet, at the least.”
Maria nodded and Rachel could tell she’d worked it out, just as Rachel had. “Yes, we have our prisoner call Arkady and tell him that we are in chains and they do not have enough working vehicles. Hopefully he will rush here to claim his prizes. Yes, I like this plan, Clarisse. I think it has potential. What are your thoughts, Rachel?”
Rachel considered their situation for a few moments and then brought up one possible flaw in the plan. “What if he brings one or even two more carloads of thugs with him? If he’s the cautious sort, I am sure he would?”
Clarisse raised an eyebrow, as she had not considered that as of yet. “Very good, Rachel, you thought of that before I did. We will make a good vampire out of you, certainly!”
She pondered for just a moment. “First, we post two of his men at the gate, with weapons, to help convince him that he controls my estate. That should at least somewhat relax him. We need to find out if Arkady knows all of them well. If he does not, we slip in one of our soldiers to make sure the ruse goes well.”
“If he does know them well, we shall just have to trust to our control and try to cover every contingency. If he is as eager to get us as I think, he will not waste much time talking to them, anyway. He will rush to the manor and want to claim us both as soon as possible.”
She led them to her favorite parlor, the same one they’d been in several times. The décor was from the twenties, a time she’d mentioned more than once that was her favorite era. She reclined in her favorite spot and put her cigarette holder to use as they continued to plot.
Maria had some additional things to offer. “We must question this commander deeply and make sure that we get him to completely fool his boss. I wish that we could find out how many men he will bring without raising his suspicion.”
Rachel said, “First off, we tell him only one casualty, and that the rest of his men are all safe and well. At least he will count them as usable troops that way, and maybe he won’t bring as many?”
“That is very good, Rachel. But, let us plan for the worst, shall we? Let us say that he still brings, oh, a dozen men. How shall we handle that, Rachel? Clarisse?”
Clarisse and Rachel both frowned, as they reached the conclusion that if he brought that many men it could lead to a bloodbath among their troops. While they considered that, Maria walked over to the bar and poured herself some red wine. She was quite fond of the taste of wine, and always had been.
Clarisse spoke up first. “We need to have our meeting with him deep in the basement levels of the manor. That, at least, would thin their ranks somewhat, I believe. He would post some of his men as guards outside the manor and perhaps a few more on the way, no?”
Rachel nodded. “Could we pick a room where that, once he comes in, we could have Sergeant Atkins men in rooms close by so that they could close in and trap him there?”
Clarisse beamed at Rachel and nodded eagerly. “I have just the room in mind for that. That was an excellent idea Rachel!”
“There’s a saying that no plan survives contact with the enemy, and I think we’ve planned about as far as we can, don’t you?” Rachel said, as she was eager to get moving and finish things off with Arkady.
Clarisse was in agreement as was Maria, so they headed to the smaller garage to visit with their prisoner.
Vasily was still sitting in the chair they had tied him to the morning before, but they knew their soldiers had taken him to the bathroom twice and also fed him. He was still somewhat entranced but Clarisse could tell it had worn off, slightly. Vexed, she held his head and used her power on him again and soon he was pliant.
“Vasily, if I have you call Arkady and tell him that you and your men captured us, and have us locked up, would he believe you? And would he come here himself? Think carefully and give me your honest answer.”
Vasily sat quietly for a moment, obviously he was thinking it through. “Yes, I think that he would believe me, he has no reason not to. And he would come here if he felt it safe.”
Rachel smiled, knowing that their plan had a chance. “How many of his men do you think that he’d bring along if he came?”
“There would be at least three or four. He never travels alone. His chief lieutenant, Lucas, would be with him certainly.”
“Do you think that he’d bring more than that?”
“Probably not. We do not have that many men here in England.”
Clarisse paced around for a moment before asking her next question. “Can you make him believe you, Vasily, when you say that we are your prisoners? Will he want to speak to one of your men to verify that fact?”
“Yes, I can. And I doubt that he would do that, he would just come here quickly.”
“All right. I am going to give you your phone and headset and I want you to call him. Talk to him as you always would. Tell him that you captured us and that we are imprisoned in the basement in a cage that I have here. Understood so far?”
“Yes, and I will comply.”
Rachel had a question. “You referred to Clarisse as ‘the French Whore’, yesterday. Was that just an insult or do you have code names for us?”
“That is how Arkady has so named her.”
“What about me?”
“The Gypsy Slut.”
Maria rolled her eyes. “I am not a member of the Roma, you fool Russian!”
He did not respond to her, but tracked Clarisse with his eyes. Of course, she’d been the one to mesmerize him and she was his boss, now.
Clarisse handed him the phone and slipped the Bluetooth device into his ear, then leaned down so she could hear everything clearly. “Very well, Vasily. Call him and tell him what we discussed. If you do not know an answer to his question I will hit mute and tell you what to say. Understood?”
“Yes.” He activated the phone, then hit speed dial one and they waited for an answer.
A Russian-accented voice came barking across the headset. “Vasily! It is about time you called. What do you have to report?”
“I report success, boss! We have them!”
“Both of them?”
“Yes, sir. The Gypsy and the Whore are all tied up.”
“Where are they?”
“We have them in the Whore’s basement, in a cell that she had. It was a perfect place to hold them.”
“Do you have casualties? How did you capture them?”
Clarisse held up one finger in front of Vasily’s face.
“We lost one man only. The rest of us are in good condition, sir. We came in after dawn, overpowered her guards and caught them sleeping.”
“Are any of her guards still there?”
“No, sir. They fought to the death and we were forced to kill them all.”
“Good. I will have you transport the whores to here, then.”
Clarisse shook her head furiously at Vasily and hit Mute. “Tell him that one SUV is burned up from the fight, and the other won’t start, perhaps due to bullet damage.”
“Sir, we lost one SUV during the fight, it is burned. The other one has bullet damage we think, it will not start.”
There was silence for a moment but both Rachel and Clarisse could hear that Arkady was conferring with someone there with him. “Very well, we will head there to meet you. We will have to rent another car to carry all of the men, but we will work that out later. I will see you in about an hour, Vasily. Watch those bitches closely! Do not disappoint me!” Arkady hung up.
Rachel grumbled. “Really getting tired of being referred to as a whore all of the time.”
Clarisse laughed and Maria remarked, “You can take it out on him later, Rachel.”
Clarisse smiled and put the phone away and untied their prisoner. She and Rachel led him back to the manor and downstairs to the basement. They gathered all of the prisoners together and began to issue detailed instructions to each one.
Two of them were sent out to the gate, primed to tell Arkady whatever he might want to hear. One was posted to the entrance of the mansion, with orders to escort Arkady and his companions downstairs when they arrived.
They posted Vasily at the doorway of the basement room where a single cage sat. More cell than cage, it was four walls of steel bars with room for at least four people inside. Clarisse ordered Vasily to remain at his post, then she and Rachel headed upstairs to her driver-slash-head of security’s office.
Atkins was there talking with Colin, her head of security when they walked into the room. Atkins bowed to the ladies and Colin smiled. Clarisse addressed them both. “Gentlemen. Is everything ready for our incoming guests?”
Atkins deferred to Colin. “Yes, Madam Clarisse. Sergeant Atkins soldiers are stacking up the crates and boxes as Madam Rachel specified right now. We have ‘bodies’ placed in a few strategic locations. When this Arkady Volkov arrives, we will be ready for him.”
Rachel smiled and nodded, and Clarisse beamed at the two soldiers. “Excellent, my brave and loyal comrades! I do not want anyone on our team injured or killed if we can prevent it, so please make sure everyone is careful.”
“Yes, Madam!” said Colin.
“Of course, my lady. My men will all be in position within the next ten minutes,” Atkins stated.
Rachel looked at Clarisse, and she looked back. “Shall we?”
Clarisse took Rachel’s hand. “We shall! Lead on, Rachel, mon amour!” Hand in hand they walked down two staircases and then into the basement. One long hallways and a turn to the right, through a door, brought them back to where their cage awaited. Vasily stood just inside the door, patiently awaiting new orders or Arkady’s arrival.
Clarisse swung the door of the cage open and both women walked inside. She pulled it shut and took a key from the pocket of her jeans and locked it, then slipped the key back in her pocket. Vasily had another key, and for a fail-safe, Atkins and Colin both had a copy as well. She waved at the camera in the corner near the ceiling, and the communicator in her other pocket chirped once.
Both Rachel and Clarisse stood still while one of Atkin’s men rigged up the manacles and chains around each of them. A bit of work on each manacle had made them removable without a key. They were very stiff to open but Rachel and Clarisse had practiced and both could remove them without any real effort. A tug on them by a human would not reveal anything, it was hoped.
The soldier left and the two shackled women shrugged and sat down beside each other to wait. Both had fed as much as possible earlier so as to be at full strength in case of any problems later.
Not much time passed before the communicator chirped and Colin’s voice broke the quite spell in the basement. “Two SUVs just pulled up to the gate. The driver is talking to the men we posted there. Corwin is listening in, and says it is all good, they are buying it. They are driving on, now, and headed to the manor. Good luck, Madam Clarisse, I will see you shortly!”
Clarisse kissed Rachel and settled down to look like a prisoner, so Rachel copied her. They sat together, with heads slumped, looking very defeated.
About five minutes later footsteps were heard and Arkady was soon talking to Vasily, who led him into the room. “You have done well, Vasily! So much effort has finally paid off. You will be rewarded in ways that will astound you, once we put these bitches to work!”
Rachel looked up at the men standing in front of the cage, sullenly. She bared her fangs at the man in front, who she knew was Arkady. Both men were dressed in black and Arkady cradled an Uzi automatic rifle in his hands. Beside him was the British man who had stabbed one of the Killers and tried to capture them before. He had the same weapon, but it was on his shoulder. Behind them was Vasily and one other Wolf Pack soldier.
Arkady grinned down at the women. “Hello my vampire bitches! It is so good to finally end this chase. You have killed many of my men, and you will pay dearly for that, I promise you!”
He opened the door and walked into the cage, gloating at both of them. “The elegant French Whore in chains at last. I will enjoy torturing you for hours on end, you arrogant bitch.” He kicked her in the face and laughed. “Look at them Lucas!” He spoke to the Englishman. “Once so proud and arrogant, now they are our slaves!”
Lucas stood in the doorway looking down on them. “You’d have done better to surrender to me, ladies. Slightly better, anyway! You pissed Arkady off and he’ll take it out on both of you, now.”
Rachel did not have to await a signal to make her move. Her sensitive hearing picked up Clarisse’s shackles slowly easing open, so she started easing her own open. Besides, she wasn’t about to let Arkady continue abusing Clarisse.
Rachel was free first, and she wasted no time. She leaped up and smashed Arkady into the bars, while Clarisse leaped across the room into Lucas, who fell outside with her on top.
Rachel was quite shocked when Arkady picked her up and threw her across the cage, where she hit the bars hard and fell to the floor. He raised his Uzi and fired bullets at her, several of which penetrated and caused her to scream. Vampire or not, the bullets were quite painful.
He whirled around, and spotted Vasily standing next to the cage door. Arkady glared at him and screamed, “Traitorous pig!”, then sprayed him with his Uzi. Vasily was dead before his body hit the floor.
The other Wolf Pack member started forward but before he could move two of Atkin’s men popped out of the crates and caught him in a cross-fire. He dropped instantly. Arkady got one of them with a spray of bullets but the other ducked back down behind cover.
Maybe it was a small sound or maybe a sixth sense but he quickly turned before Rachel was on him and tried to shoot her again. He managed to shoot her twice more before she grabbed his Uzi and pulled the barrel up and away from her body. She swung her free fist at his face and hit him several times.
Lucas and Clarisse rolled away from the cage, fighting and each trying to gain control of his Uzi, but neither able to control it. He also had to contend with an angry vampire’s flashing fangs right in his face and while he wasn’t doing nearly as well as Arkady was with Rachel, he was managing to stab her with the knife he’d had on his belt.
Rachel thought she had pounded Arkady senseless enough to disarm him but he surprised her and she felt a bullet enter her shoulder. She hissed and bit his arm and drew a small amount of spicy blood from it before he shot her again, this time in the stomach.
Rachel! Get that gun away from him before he shoots us in the head! Maria screamed inside her head.
She shoved him as hard as she could then followed with a right cross to his face. As he staggered she grabbed his gun, made sure it was pointed away and yanked as hard as she could. It came out of his hands and the strap broke. She turned it into a makeshift club and began battering away at Arkady’s face, his head, his body, anywhere she could land a blow.
One last blow, delivered like a baseball player hitting a homerun, sent Volkov flying hard up against the bars, where he dropped to the floor, spread-eagled.
Rachel, blood streaming from her face, arm, stomach, and various other places, staggered over to Arkady. He was finally unconscious! He looked much worse than she did — a fact which pleased her immensely for some reason. She checked his pulse and found none, and then sighed. They had wanted Arkady a prisoner, not dead.
She shook her head sadly, not in mourning for him, but sad that they might have lost a valuable source of information on the Wolf Pack gang.
Maria, I can’t get over how strong he was!
Yes, few humans I have ever encountered have showed such strength. This is something we must look into, but let us see to Clarisse first!
She walked slowly outside the cage, limping slightly from her bullet wounds in her left leg. Arkady must have put half a dozen into her leg, at least.
Clarisse still had Lucas pinned down in the hall, and had managed to fasten manacles to his arms at least. Her body was covered with stab wounds and cuts from Lucas’s huge knife. The skin on one side of her face was an open flap where he had slashed her. With Rachel’s help his legs were soon secure, as well.
Rachel sank to the floor and looked at Clarisse. “I need a vacation. This vampire stuff is hard work.” She coughed up some blood and spat delicately to the side.
Clarisse held her facial wound closed, and smiled at Rachel while she called Atkins and Colin. She told Colin she needed a snack as fast as possible and he replied, “On the way, Madam Clarisse!”
Rachel informed her that Arkady Volkov was dead, and she shrugged. “We still have a prisoner who will tell us everything that we wish to know, Rachel.”
Both women sank to the floor and leaned on each other. Their bodies were healing but they needed blood badly. Both were eyeing Lucas as if he were a steak dinner. This wasn’t lost on Lucas, who looked quite nervous.
“Err, ladies, I could be very valuable to you alive. You don’t want to kill me, now, do you?” he said, his English accent strong and his voice rising in pitch.
Rachel felt her fangs pop out as she leaned over him and grinned her most wicked grin. “The loss of a pint shouldn’t hurt you, now should it, Lucas?” She ignored his bellow as she placed her mouth to his neck, poked two holes with her fangs, and began to suck. After just a few mouthfuls she rose up and allowed Clarisse, who was showing her own fangs in an evil grin to Lucas, to move in and take some blood as well.
Lucas’s struggles availed him nothing as Clarisse took an equal amount and then sealed the wound. Both felt a little better after their snack. They sat back and Rachel noticed the backpack that Lucas had been wearing before the fight began. She pulled the zipper open and began to rummage around inside.
She pulled out a small paper-wrapped package that was soft and yielding to the touch. Ignoring Lucas’s protest she sliced the string holding it sealed and tore the paper open. Inside was packing foam, from which a small glass vial appeared when she finished unwrapping it.
She raised an eyebrow at Clarisse, who leaned forward with interest. She removed the stopper and sniffed the vial. “It’s blood, but very spicy smelling blood?”
Maria exclaimed almost immediately, “That is vampire blood!” Clarisse at almost the same time said, “Yes! I smell vampire blood. Let me taste it and I will be certain.”
Rachel handed her the vial while Lucas glared but said nothing. She tipped the bottle to her finger and wet the end, then touched her finger to her mouth. “Yes, this is definitely vampire blood — but it is not mine. But there is a slight hint of your blood in it, Maria. It tastes very flat and dull, as if it has been carried around for some time.”
Maria tasted the blood next. “It tastes as if it were mine but at a distance, perhaps. Ecaterina’s blood tasted like this, as I recall. What is going on here?”
She turned her gaze to Lucas, as Clarisse did the same. He looked very uncomfortable, and seemed to be looking for a way to sink into the concrete floor.
Clarisse leaned over him, carefully placed her hand on his shirt, curled her grip tight and pulled him up slightly from his prone position until his face was an inch from hers. He could see her fangs extend and her eyes had a dangerous look.
“Now, Lucas. You will tell me what this is about, and you will tell me right this fucking minute! I think I know, but I wish to hear it from your lips. Start talking!” She let go and his head bounced painfully on the concrete.
Rachel leaned over as well and he saw that there was no getting out of this. “Well, err, ladies, you see, it is vampire blood, you are correct there.”
Two sets of silvery eyes continued to glare at him, and he cleared his throat. “It’s kind of old, because it’s been in storage in a freezer for several years. The, umm, the owner of it passed on, you see, and it’s getting pretty much useless, now.”
“Go on, let’s hear it all,” Rachel said, fangs still extended and glaring eyes still staring at him. How much of the glare was hers and how much Maria’s, neither could have said.
Lucas wiggled and grimaced. “Could you sit me up, love? I’ll tell you everything but I really would prefer to be sitting up?”
Clarisse grabbed him and pushed him roughly up against the wall. “There, now talk — in detail! Start at the beginning. We want to hear it all!”
At that moment, Colin, Atkins, two more soldiers, and several of Clarisse’s thralls arrived. She put the men to removing Arkady’s body, and had a thrall each kneel beside herself and Rachel. Soon they had fed, right in front of Lucas — who looked very uncomfortable, and sent the thralls on their way again.
Rachel suspected that Clarisse did that for shock value and Maria agreed with a laugh. Rachel felt much better as the last of her wounds closed up.
“Now, let us hear this story, and we can detect lies, you know. It is one of our powers as vampires. So, I would suggest that you do not lie to us.” Maria sounded quite menacing and the man was even more terrified than before, if that was possible.
Lucas was sweating, rivulets running down his face, even in the chill basement. He shook his head wildly back and forth. “No! I will tell you everything, just please let me live?”
Clarisse laughed. “We shall see, Monsieur Lucas. Let us see how cooperative you are, no? Get on with it.”
Lucas nodded and began to explain.
“Well, a long time ago, Arkady’s father was one of the chiefs of this group, the Wolf Pack. It was a group of men from Russia and Moldavia who hunted vampires. As you know there’s some of us from all around Europe now, but back then it was just that region. When they formed this group vampires were very common in that part of the world.”
“It was during one of the wars with the Ottomans that old Volkov discovered something. He saw a vampire woman feeding on one of his men and he saw her lick the wounds and they healed. This intrigued him, you see, so rather than stake her, they captured her.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes, seeing where this was going. She was quite correct in her thoughts.
“His men were totally buggered in the capture, but once they had her, rather than staking her they drained her blood. He then fed some of it to his wounded men, and sure enough it healed them right up! However, one of them got too much and soon enough he turned vamp and had to be staked.”
He shook his head, sadly. “Some of the Wolf Pack thought the whole idea of using vamp blood quite dodgy, and they refused to go along with it at all. That was the split, you know. They left the gang right then and there, and vowed to carry on the fight without this evil tainted blood passing their lips.”
“Well, to make a long story short, the whole Wolf Pack was all sixes and sevens then. Almost came to blows but old Volkov let the, err, purists go without any bloodshed. After that he was demanding a new vamp be captured as soon as could be done.”
“The split, it happened not long before you captured me?” Maria asked.
“Yes, it was not long after the American Civil War ended that this all happened.” He nodded and went on.
“After they caught the next one, apparently old Volkov started experimenting. You see, he wanted to find the exact amount that would heal most efficiently, without actually turning the man who ingested it into a vampire himself. He kept the vampire prisoner for quite a long time, feeding him enough blood to keep him alive but just barely.”
Lucas grimaced. “The poor lads who took too much and became vampires no longer got staked, either. Instead they were chained up as well and used for more blood.”
Clarisse growled “This is sick! This man was a sick sociopath!”
Lucas didn’t bother to defend Volkov. “I do agree with you there, but remember they were fighting vampires who killed people when they fed, unlike what you two do, usually? It was a different time… anyway, his experiments went on but often he didn’t feed the vamps enough and they perished.”
“Over time he was down to two chained vamps, and of course his estranged Wolf Pack brothers were out staking vamps everywhere they could be found. When they captured you, Maria, they stashed you in that castle for a ‘pristine source’. That is how old Volkov referred to you in his journal. He wanted you safe, and a source for fresh vamp blood when needed. I don’t know how often, but I do know they fed you from time to time, and bled you as well.”
The flash of fire in Maria’s, or Rachel’s, eyes was enough to make the man gulp visibly. “Well, err, that was him, not me, you understand!”
Maria was too angry to speak so Rachel asked. “How did they get in and out? The passageway in there had not been touched for years.”
“Trapdoor, you know? Just open it, lower the ladder in, feed her, draw some blood, and back out. He used her blood to turn prisoners or Wolf Pack members who’d pissed him off, then used them as his sources.”
Rachel shook her head, feeling an idiot for missing that. “Go on with your story.”
Clarisse interrupted. “Where is this journal of Arkady’s father you mentioned?”
“I don’t know, really. I saw it years ago and he let me read it, since I was his second.”
She nodded. “Go on.”
“So, old Volkov started doling out vials of this vamp blood to his most trusted lieutenants in the gang. It soon became a status thing, or one of rank. He’d discovered that regular doses slowed down the aging process tremendously!”
Clarisse nodded thoughtfully. “Just as I suspected when Vasily told us that Arkady’s father had been the one to imprison you, Maria. From that moment, I was suspecting that they were using vampire blood as a longevity drug. But it didn’t last, did it, Lucas?” Her smile was quite grim.
Lucas nodded. “Yeah, you know, don’t you? Old man Volkov slowly went insane. He was trapped in some half-vamp, half-human state and he just went bloody bonkers one day. His own son, Arkady, had to kill his father. Apparently, over time whatever it is in vamp blood builds up and causes that. It could not force the change into a full vampire and the body and mind just go crazy.”
“After that, Arkady took over. That was right before the war began, I was told, World War One I mean. Yes, Arkady was 118 years old! Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
Clarisse pounced on that statement. “And how old are you, Monsieur Lucas?”
He looked nervous again. “I’ve only had it four times, and I’m only sixty-four! Not nearly as old as Arkady was. He has been drinking the stuff for nearly a century, and I must confess he was getting a bit mad.”
Clarisse shook her head. “You were all mad! Vampire blood will turn a human, yes. But in such small amounts it will drive them insane. This was known ages ago!”
Lucas looked down at the floor. “Well, we should have learned from Arkady’s father. But the son went after it as bad as the father did. I have to admit, even without the fountain of youth aspect, the stuff is addictive. Never felt so alive and vital, not to mention strong, as after drinking some!”
“How many of you have been drinking vampire blood?” Clarisse demanded.
“Just the leadership, and they are all dead now but me, I am afraid. Well, no, there is Stepan, he’s had some. He’s still in Bucharest.”
“You were all fools to drink our blood,” Maria stated.
He attempted a cheeky grin. “You have to admit, turnabout is fair play, eh?”
Clarisse backhanded him across the mouth in answer. She pulled out her communicator and pressed the button. “Colin, come back please, and bring a soldier along to help you.”
She stood up, still somewhat shaky, and offered Rachel a hand up as well. “Come darling, you and I need to feed again, I think, and we need rest.”
Rachel did not offer any argument and neither did Maria.
Within a minute Colin appeared, with Atkins and one of Atkin’s men in tow.
Clarisse gestured down at Lucas. “Take this merde and put him in a cell. Leave the shackles on him for now! Have him watched closely.”
Colin replied, “At once, Madam Clarisse!” He and Atkin’s soldier pulled Lucas to his feet and escorted him out.
Corwin Atkins bowed to Clarisse and put a hand on her shoulder. “My lady, please go and rest. We will clean up here, and get things in order.”
She asked him how many losses he had from the fight.
Atkins face went sad. “We lost two, my lady. The man here in this room, and the one outside at the driveway. Good lads, but they went out fighting, in the true spirit of the Legion. All of the Wolf Pack men are dead, save this one you captured.”
“I will take care of their families, Corwin, and their funeral expenses. Thank you, I think we will go upstairs now.”
Rachel and Clarisse, once again hand in hand, walked up the stairs and retired to the master bedroom. They soaked in the tub for a very short time then retired to her bed.
Clarisse voiced the thought that was on all of their minds, first. “We shall have to go to Bucharest and clean out the rest of this Wolf Pack. I do not want any more of them coming for me or you.”
Maria brought up what was troubling her. “Yes, but that only removes one threat, Clarisse. We also need to plan to remove the Killer sect of the Wolf Pack, as well.”
And then Rachel nodded along with Clarisse to Maria’s contribution, and said “Yes, and I am so happy we know what was going on now… but… we still have one mystery to figure out.”
Clarisse looked puzzled. “What would that be, Rachel?”
“I want to know what caused Maria and me to be sharing the same body!” she exclaimed.
Maria agreed. “So do I, Rachel.”
Clarisse suggested that some more talk with Lucas would be a good idea to start their evening tomorrow, and they agreed.
Exhausted, even after much snacking and their bath, they snuggled into the bed to rest, even before the sun rose.
The Duchess of Arad, Chapter 11
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The Duchess of Arad
Chapter 11
by Jenny Sugar
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar All Rights Reserved. |
|
The next evening they rose, fed, and then Clarisse decided that after the events the night before they both deserved to relax. She led Rachel to the bath and they soaked for over an hour, not talking about anything seriously, just enjoying each others company.
Maria, Clarisse, and Rachel all shared bits of their lives and amusing moments. Rachel felt a little sad that she did not have as much to share as the other two. Maria picked up on this and laughed.
“Rachel I lived for almost three hundred years before I was captured, and Clarisse has lived — and been active! — for nearly as long. Of course we have seen and done more. Be patient, your time is now, dear.”
Clarisse chimed in, while caressing Rachel’s breast. “Maria is right, Rachel! We have untold years before us. We will make our own history and you shall live it with us!”
“Thank you both, I shouldn’t feel that way. You’re right, we have lots of time and we can see and do a lot, now. I guess I am a little jealous of all the history you both got to live. You know I was a history major and history was my passion, before.”
Clarisse leaned in and kissed Rachel slowly and passionately, and any further talk was not necessary.
Rachel did not know if it was Clarisse getting frisky or their words but she cheered up and soon she could say that she’d had her first sexual experience in a bathtub.
After, they went to Clarisse’s bedroom, where she tore through her massive walk-in closets to find them both khaki outfits that made both Rachel and Clarisse look like they were going on safari, rather than to the basement to question a prisoner.
Rachel raised her eyebrow at Clarisse’s wardrobe choice and got nothing but her beautiful laughter in response. Sometimes, even though Rachel was now a woman, she just didn’t understand women.
They found Lucas, still manacled and chained, in the cell Corwin had put him in. He seemed glad to see them both.
“Ah, good evening ladies. You both look beautiful and well-rested today! Now, look here, can’t we dispense with the chains and manacles? I answered your questions, and will answer as many more as you like.” He was both cheerful and pleading in his tone.
Rachel glanced at Clarisse. Maria and Rachel agreed internally that he couldn’t be trusted, but Rachel felt that since this was Clarisse’s home they should defer to her decision.
“Ah, Monsieur Lucas, we shall see about that. For now, the chains and manacles shall come off, but you will stay in this cell until we decide whether we can trust you further.”
Corwin, who had been standing in the doorway leading to the cells, overheard and came in with a key. He unshackled Lucas, bowed to Clarisse and Rachel, and went on his way.
Lucas seemed extremely grateful for his new-found freedom. “Thank you so much, Madam Dubois! Madam Rachel! It feels good to be out of those things!”
They led Lucas upstairs to Clarisse’s ‘African’ parlor, complete with real African savannah plants, stuffed animals, and paintings and photographs of various places in Africa. Rachel was very impressed and Lucas seemed to be too.
She pointed to a chair and Lucas hopped into it immediately, which brought an amused smirk to Clarisse’s face.
She sat down in a beautiful African print loveseat, and patted the seat beside her. Lucas made as if to hop over with a cheeky grin, but a glance from her made him sit back down quickly. Rachel took the offered spot with a smile.
“Let us begin. You do not wish to know the penalty for lies, do you?”
“Err, no. Nothing but the truth!” he replied.
“I have one question first, Lucas. How did Arkady and the rest of you know that I had escaped?” Maria said.
“Quite a stroke of luck on our part, love. Stepan spotted you in Sibiu. He was there seeing some woman at the time.”
“So Stepan knew me from the time I was imprisoned?”
“Oh, yes. He was a recruit back then, and impressed Arkady in some fashion. Started taking the blood not long after Arkady. I know what you’re thinking, and I’ll tell you straight off. He’s barking mad, Stepan is. He’s been getting flaky for years, which is how I ended up as Arkady’s second, you see.”
Clarisse frowned, obviously not looking forward to another one like Arkady. For that matter, Rachel didn’t exactly look thrilled, herself. “Where does this Stepan usually spend his time?”
Lucas shrugged. “He prowls around all over Eastern Europe. Romania, Slovakia, Hungary - even wanders into Serbia occasionally. He’s a Serb, you know, on his mother’s side.”
Rachel posed the question they were wondering. “When could we catch Stepan at your headquarters in Bucharest? I think we’d both rather catch him there than roam all over Europe trying to catch up to him.”
Lucas pondered for a moment. “He stops in there at least every month or so. It’s as good a place as any to wait for him. Of course, he will sense you both, probably. He’s ingested so much vamp blood he’s extremely sensitive to vamps. He even avoids sunlight, he’s so far gone.”
“So, that is how you tracked us so well?”
He nodded. “The same way that you can track other vamps, of course. If a vamp is anywhere near you can turn round and round and feel which direction they are. Of course, the more blood you’ve had, the more sensitive you are.” He lectured them as if he was a university professor, and Rachel told him so.
“Funny you should say that, because I was, once! But, yes we used that and triangulation to keep abreast of exactly where you were. It wasn’t hard. Stepan was best at it, and after him Arkady. It was a bit dodgy for me, but then again I’ve not had as much vamp blood.”
“So he will be very hard to corner, I am thinking,” Clarisse mused.
“Well, yes and no. Remember he is addicted to vamp blood much like Arkady was. But with Stepan the addiction was much stronger for some reason. He will be looking to capture one or both of you.”
“I think we have no choice, we have to take Stepan down, especially if he is as insane as Lucas said,” remarked Rachel. “Then again we could wait and let him come to us?”
“I agree completely, Rachel. But no, we will not wait and let him pick a time of his own choosing to attack. We will make preparations and go find him, soon,” Clarisse replied firmly.
Lucas cleared his throat. “Why do you call her ‘Rachel’, Clarisse? I am a bit puzzled.”
“Because that is her name, of course! Why else would I call her that?” laughed Clarisse.
“But this is Maria, I know it is. Arkady and Stepan both recognized her.”
Maria spoke. “I wish to share what happened with Lucas. Any insight into our unique situation would be welcomed.” She glared at Lucas. “But what I say is never to go beyond this room. Understood, Lucas?”
He bowed his head and replied, “I do swear that it will not, Rachel.”
She then told him the story of Richard Harrison and how he ended up in the secret room with Maria, the Duchess of Arad, and what had happened when he touched her.
“You used to be a bloke?! That is just unbelievable! Although, once you believe in vampires I suppose anything else could start looking likely.” Lucas seemed amazed but didn’t doubt her story. “So, Maria you are in there, and Rachel is too?”
Maria replied. “It is the honest truth, Lucas.”
He mused silently for a few minutes. “I don’t doubt you at all, Rachel. Oh, and err, Maria. I’ve just never heard of such a thing happening in all of my years. So, Maria’s body somehow drained this Richard, and somehow you both ended up in her body? But how did you get free from the chain?”
Rachel frowned and closed her eyes for a moment to remember. “I awoke in a strange state, where neither of us seemed to have any control or consciousness. The first actual clear memory that I have is waking up in a root cellar of some sort. I came out of it and found two bodies that I, we, had drained.”
She went on. “Later, after I discovered Maria was inside here with me, a few hazy memories came back but I still don’t remember much of anything of the castle and what happened there.”
Lucas asked Maria, “What about you, Maria? Do you have any memories or thoughts from that time?”
Maria spoke, and Lucas noted that her mannerisms and accent were subtly different from Rachel’s when she spoke.
“No, I do not remember much more than Rachel. The last clear thought that I had, which was not all that clear since I was dying, was Richard touching me and I was reaching out to attack him as prey. I was so hungry and my body was nearly gone. Nothing is really clear and had not been for many years in that room.” She shuddered and shook her head angrily.
Lucas grew quiet, apparently sensing that discussing the castle and her imprisonment further with Maria would not be good for his health.
Clarisse decided to move on to other questions. “This Wolf Pack of yours, did they operate in other places besides Europe?”
Lucas nodded. “Oh, yes, very much so. They followed vampire migrations over to the new world and cleansed all of North and South America many years ago. To the best of my knowledge, you two are the only existing vampires left.”
“Now there’s a cheerful thought, isn’t it?” Rachel gloomily asked.
Clarisse shook her head. “That is not to say that he is absolutely correct, Rachel! They may have missed some of us. We will just have to see.”
Lucas nodded in agreement. “Just because Arkady thought that you were the last two, doesn’t necessarily mean that it was true. He was getting a bit wobbly, you know.”
Maria addressed Clarisse while looking pointedly at Lucas. “I think we need to bring Lucas with us when we go after the Stepan. He could be very useful, yes?”
Clarisse looked at him thoughtfully and agreed with Maria. “Yes, Monsieur Lucas will go with us and help track down this madman.”
Lucas grimaced. “I love hanging out with such sexy ladies but I don’t look forward to tracking him down.”
Clarisse eyed him. “Do not forget, Monsieur Lucas, that while to your eyes we are both beautiful and delicate ladies, we are also very much deadly ladies who could snap your neck or drain every drop of blood from your body if you trifle with us.”
He looked very uncomfortable after that. “I wouldn’t dare mess with either of you, I swear. I will help in any way that I can, of course.” He smiled an ingratiating smile at her and she stared back into his eyes.
“Yes, Lucas, you will obey me and Rachel and Maria at all times. You will never lie to us. You will not betray us to Stepan or anyone else in your old organization. Your will is ours.”
“I will obey you. I will never lie to you. I will not betray you. I am yours,” he replied in a monotone.
“Why’d you do that, Clarisse?” Rachel asked, slightly puzzled. “He seemed to be cooperating quite well?”
Maria shook her head. “I agree with Clarisse. I did not trust him at all and I feel better with some reinforcement.”
“Lucas, have you told us any lies last night or tonight?” Clarisse asked, sweetly.
“No, Clarisse, I have been completely honest.”
“Why were you honest? Did you not feel that you were betraying the Wolf Pack?”
“I was afraid you could detect lies, as you said, and I do think you are both hotties.” He replied without a hint of cheekiness.
Rachel and Clarisse both burst out laughing at that.
Rachel tossed out an idea. “Why don’t we fly into Budapest, and drive from there. We can stop at the castle on the way and see what we might discover about Maria’s prison and our strange situation?”
Clarisse exclaimed, “Excellent idea, Rachel! I agree, let us do this!”
“I’ll book a night flight for the three of us,” Rachel said and started to get up and head for the phone.
Clarisse put her hand on Rachel and eased her back down. “No, no, Rachel. We’ll take my jet.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “I might have known you owned a jet!” They both laughed and started talking about what to pack.
Flying over France, Maria was having the time of her life. She made Rachel sit at a window of the small jet so that she could look out constantly. This was her first time ever flying and she was making the most of it.
Clarisse sat nearby, sipping some wine and relaxing. Lucas was sitting by himself in the rear of the cabin, not sullen, just tranquil. Clarisse did not plan to ease up on her enthralling until this mission was over.
Maria stayed at the window for the entire flight, saying little, and letting Rachel and Clarisse chat while she enjoyed the sensation of flying.
They landed in Budapest and rented an SUV with no incidents or problems. Lucas was programmed to keep his eyes peeled and report if he saw the slightest glimpse of a Wolf Pack member anywhere near them. He insisted he had not seen anyone he knew, Wolf Pack member or not, so they all relaxed and planned the drive into Romania for the next evening.
Sleeping accommodations were simple: Rachel and Clarisse shared the bed, Lucas slept on the carpeted floor with a spare pillow Rachel scrounged for him. He didn’t object to the arrangement.
They decided that it would be prudent to keep Lucas close at hand and out of any possible trouble, so forgoing any nightclub expeditions was a given. Clarisse was saddened by this, as she’d wanted to prowl the clubs in Budapest very much. But, she agreed with Maria that keeping their prisoner safe and secure was their most important priority.
They watched some television and talked for a while before dawn, and went to sleep happy yet alert.
The next evening they checked out and Rachel grabbed the driver’s seat of the SUV and was eager to get underway. Clarisse and Lucas piled in and they were off. For Rachel and Maria the trip was just a repeat of their previous journey but in reverse.
They kept a close watch and even set Lucas up as their day shift guard in Arad and in Sibiu, but not one sign of the Wolf Pack was seen.
Rachel parked their rental vehicle in the exact same spot that her old car had occupied on her first visit to this remote area. Clarisse was admiring the view and remarking often about how beautiful Romania was.
This pleased Maria, as she loved hearing this elegant Frenchwoman praise her homeland.
While walking on the path to the castle, Rachel raised a question. “Shouldn’t we go in through the trap door rather than the tunnel that I fell through? I wonder if a lot of that area is unstable.”
They all agreed to use the other entrance, so when they approached the castle Lucas was ordered to lead them to the entrance Arkady used. He led them around the ruins that Rachel was familiar with and to an area with more walls standing. Amidst the walls was a wooden door in halfway decent shape, compared to the rest of the surroundings.
Lucas began searching along a wall that ran parallel to the door for a certain block, and when he found what he was looking for he inserted his fingers and pulled it out, revealing a small hollowed out slot in the wall. Inside was a key, which he removed and opened the door with.
They cautiously entered the room, Lucas holding an electric lantern much like the one Rachel had used here before. Inside the room was an ancient wooden table strewn with several flashlights, rusty chains, and a few glass vials of the type the Wolf Pack used to transport their stolen vampire blood. Against the far wall was a wooden ladder. Old well-used lanterns covered in cobwebs sat on a shelf along one wall, forgotten in this modern age of flashlights.
Clarisse voiced the question that was foremost in her thoughts. “Lucas, why did Arkady choose this ruined castle to lock Maria away? This place is a wreck; I would have thought that he would choose a more secure location. Perhaps one closer to his base in Bucharest?”
Lucas shook his head. “When he put her here it was not all ruins as you see now. From what I was told it met his criteria then. It was remote, abandoned, and it was quite easy for the Wolf Pack to gain title to the land here. The trap door and the room below already existed and so it was a perfect prison.”
He walked over to the corner of the room and pointed at the trap door. There was a rusty sliding bolt holding it shut, which he slid open with some effort. He began to lift on the door slowly and pulled it up and open.
Clarisse and Rachel picked up the ladder and lowered it down into the dark opening revealed. They stood looking down into the darkness for a moment.
“Lucas, has the Wolf Pack been here since Maria’s escape?” Clarisse asked.
“I’m pretty sure they haven’t. After she was spotted in Sibiu all of our efforts went to re-capturing her. Nobody really thought much on how she escaped; we all just wanted to get her back as soon as was possible. Though there was a bit of a row about that, actually.”
“How do mean?”
“Well, Arkady advanced the idea to let her roam a bit and possibly make some more vamps. Then we capture them all and have this huge supply of vamp blood, you see. He was all fired up about it. He wanted a new and fresh supply of blood. He had some crazy theory about ‘blood diversity’ and how it would help us in some manner.”
They did see, and from the glares it was obvious what they thought of that plan. He shrugged, still more under Clarisse’s spell than not. “If he had gotten his way, Maria would have been allowed to find some village and start making some kind of vampire haven once again. He had it all planned out until the arguing began.”
“Stepan was obsessed with getting her back. He thought that vampires should be eradicated except for his special ones locked away. They argued quite a bit, but in the end Stepan’s viewpoint prevailed so all of our resources went towards that.”
“So Arkady went along with Stepan, and abandoned his plan?” Rachel asked.
“Yes, it took a lot of arguing and back and forth, but in the end Stepan convinced Arkady that he was risking another ‘infestation’ covering Europe, destroying mankind, and all that.”
Clarisse rolled her eyes. “You know very well how stupid and wrong that statement is, Monsieur Lucas! We do not kill or bring attention to ourselves. And we certainly do not just roam around creating new vampires at random!”
Lucas nodded. “I had advanced an idea to Arkady of my own. It was more of a truce and an arrangement kind of thing, you know. We would allow Maria and some friends to settle in some remote village and donate blood to us in return for the Wolf Pack rounding up thralls for her.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow and Clarisse laughed. Maria remarked on what she thought of that plan. “After chaining me up and starving me for hundreds of years, what on earth made you think that I’d accept this fool plan of yours?”
Lucas shrugged. “It was a way to get everyone what they wanted, is how I saw it. It didn’t matter in the end; Stepan would have none of it. To him you are evil and must be contained or destroyed. He doesn’t compromise on that.”
Maria took the lead and climbed down the ladder, followed by Lucas. Clarisse simply jumped down the opening and landed casually on her feet. She looked around and immediately spotted the iron post and the chain leading to the body in the center of the room.
They all walked up to the body and looked down. The corpse was severely desiccated and reminded Clarisse of how Egyptian mummies looked once the wrappings were removed. Not much could be told on first glance but one thing was very obvious. The corpse was male.
Rachel knelt and stared with mouth open, while Maria was silent and obviously just as confused. Clarisse noticed that the man’s body had long blondish hair, and had been in good physical shape when alive.
She nodded thoughtfully as they absorbed this new development. “I’d never thought that two people would swap bodies magically as was described to me, my friends. This actually makes more sense to me, in a way. This body is Richard’s, yes Rachel?”
Rachel stared at the body and nodded slowly. To say that she felt weird would be quite the understatement. She didn’t quite know what to say.
Maria pointed to the collar. “If what you said is correct, Clarisse, how did the collar end up on his body rather than mine?”
Clarisse pulled at the collar and found that it was unlocked and had just been draped across the throat of Richard’s body.
Lucas noticed and swore softly. “That son of a bitch went and did it! Arkady told me his plan. He was going to unlock her collar and bring her some blood and then flee, knowing she’d escape on her own most likely.”
Maria frowned. “If he wanted me to escape why did he not remove me from this room and give me blood? All he did was unlock my collar?”
“He was deathly afraid of you, Maria. I can’t say I blame him for that. Wouldn’t you be afraid of a powerful vamp that you’d kept locked away for hundreds of years? I can’t say for sure what he was thinking when he did this, but it is obvious that he went through with that part anyway.”
Maria nodded. “He was insane, yes that is obvious. But if he unlocked my collar then what of the rest? He gave me no blood, so I would have still lain here dying and asleep till the end without that.”
Clarisse picked up an empty vial nearby, and held it up. “Look at this. It is clean and has hardly any dust on it.” She opened it and sniffed at the open end. “It has had blood in it, certainly. Apparently he did bring blood to you, recently, Maria.”
Maria snorted. “He obviously did not bring me enough to accomplish his insane plan. Would that he had! I would have drained him dry if I had been free and aware!”
“And that is exactly why he gave you so little, I think,” Lucas said. “He was trying to avoid that very thing.”
Rachel spoke up from where she was still kneeling beside Richard’s body. “Okay, we know why Maria was free and why the collar is open. We know she likely drained my body, yes?”
Clarisse and Lucas both nodded and Maria signified the same inside Rachel’s head.
“Then why am I here, inside Maria’s body, and not just a dead victim of a vampire? More to the point, why did I become the dominant force in her body, while she became kind of a secondary one?”
Clarisse sighed. “Rachel that is a very good question, but in all of my years I have never heard of such a thing happening. For many years after I was turned, I would track my prey, drain them, and leave their dead body behind. I never once felt any semblance of another presence trying to merge with me in any way.”
She paced the room. “The only way that I can see to find out more is if you or Maria or both of you could remember exactly what happened when you came into this room. If either of you could but remember this I think we would have our answer.”
“I wonder if a hypnotist could get us to remember the details of what happened here that day.” Rachel asked.
Clarisse shrugged. “I suppose that is possible, Rachel. Perhaps after we deal with this Stepan and his minions we can find a reputable psychologist and see if that can be done.”
Maria responded. “I would like to do this, if it is possible. Meanwhile, shall we bury Richard’s body?
Rachel has not shown it to you, but she is quite affected by this discovery.”
Rachel nodded slowly, but replied, “No. Let this be Richard’s crypt. I am Rachel now, and this is a fitting place to leave his body.”
“Would you like for me to say a few words? This is a funeral, of sorts, Rachel. We are paying our last respects to your old life.” Clarisse was extremely sympathetic and wanted her friend to have closure.
Rachel pondered her words for a few minutes. “No, but thank you for offering, Clarisse. I think we can go now. I am fine. Richard can rest here. I am Rachel Harrison, and he is a fading memory.”
They turned and left the room, each ascending the ladder with a glance back at Richard’s remains, and each in their own way wondering how this unique transference had happened. When they were all out, Clarisse closed the trap door effortlessly. This got a small chuckle from Lucas.
“You know I had a taste of your strength, in a matter of speaking. A man feels jealous around a woman who could easily beat the sauce out of him at will, you know!”
Clarisse and Rachel both laughed, and Clarisse replied. “Always keep that in mind, Lucas, if you get any funny ideas about betraying us, or running away!”
“Madam I keep that in mind constantly, I assure you.”
As they left, Rachel locked the door and replaced the key in the ancient hiding place. She felt that she was locking away the last vestige of her old male self when she turned the key. She voiced this thought to Clarisse.
Clarisse nodded and hugged her friend tightly. “Keep this in mind, my dear friend. Regardless of whether you were Richard or Rachel, the person within was the same person. Gender does not decide whether you are a good person or an evil person. And you, Rachel, are a good person and one that I am honored to call friend.”
Rachel returned the hug and wiped a tear from her eyes as they headed back to their car to begin the task of finding Stepan and ending the Wolf Pack.
The Duchess of Arad, Chapter 12
Author:
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The Duchess of Arad
Chapter 12
by Jenny Sugar
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar All Rights Reserved. |
|
Over the next two days, Maria delighted in showing Rachel, Clarisse, and Lucas all around the sights and sounds of Bucharest. Even though she had not seen it in centuries, she seemed to be more or less at home there. She also knew the modern layout thanks to Rachel’s memories, as she admitted to Rachel after driving all around the city and not getting lost once.
Lucas gave them the exact address of the Wolf Pack headquarters before they even entered Bucharest, and they did several drive-by scouting missions. Both Rachel and Clarisse thought that they could sense a vampire presence — or an almost-vampire presence if Lucas was correct about the amount of change that Stepan had undergone.
As there was no reaction to their multiple visits, they decided to try infiltration next.
Rachel grumbled to Maria as they snuck into the warehouse where Lucas had said the Wolf Pack was headquartered. Clarisse led the way, with Lucas behind her and Rachel bringing up the rear.
I don’t like this, Maria. We should have brought some soldiers or reinforcements. What if they have dozens of people like Arkady here waiting on us?
Nonsense, Rachel. Lucas said that Stepan is the chief concern. Do not worry! We shall find this Stepan and end the threat. Be bold, be brave!
Rachel snorted but said nothing back as they penetrated deeper into the warehouse. Crates were stacked near the walls of the cavernous building along the side they had come in. They made their way behind, hugging the wall and using the crates for cover. No lights were on in the main warehouse but they could see lights in the offices along the opposite wall.
Lucas had told him they used the main area for training and the offices were used for staff, computers, and paperwork. It seemed Stepan had his hands in money-laundering, drugs, and even human trafficking as well. They had been angered when he had told them of Stepan’s grandiose plans to have a large contingent of chained vampires to drain of blood to sell at high prices to wealthy individuals as rejuvenation treatments. This furthered their desire to put an end to him and his Wolf Pack.
They came to the end of the crates and were slowly making their way along the wall when all of the lights snapped on and Wolf Pack members began to pour into the room. All had automatic weapons and a few carried stakes as well.
Maria estimated at least sixty to seventy facing them. Rachel groaned.
Nothing to worry about, you said. Be bold, you said. Be brave, you said.
I could have been wrong, Rachel?
They slowly walked out to the center of the room, mindful of the dozens of men surrounding them. One man walked out to meet them. He was very tall, at least six and a half feet, and was clean-shaven. He had dark hair and looked to be as young as thirty, but had some gray hair showing at his temples. He had an AK-47 slung across his chest, and looked ready to use it.
They stopped walking and stood watching him. He glared at Lucas, and made a throat-cutting gesture at him, which caused the man to pale.
Clarisse broke the silence. “You must be Stepan, I take it?”
Stepan gave her a short nod, and then turned to Maria. He grinned unpleasantly, and they could see that while he did not have fangs, he had the beginnings of them. “Ah, Maria it is so good to see you return to me. I love the taste of your blood and I plan to be drinking much more of it in the future! It was so nice of you to bring the French whore along, as well.”
The “French whore” snorted. “We’re not here to donate blood, you sickening man. We are here to put an end to your chasing us all over Europe.”
“Why do they always call you the French Whore, anyway?” Rachel blurted out.
“You turn tricks one time and you are marked for life!” she replied, ruefully.
He didn’t laugh or react much at all to their words. He waved his hand in negation and said, “You are here to be drained. If you behave well I will keep you well-fed. If not, then you will suffer considerably.” It was obvious to both women that he was quite insane.
Rachel decided to be funny. “We are here to kick ass and chew bubblegum, and we’re all out of bubblegum.”
Clarisse took her at her word and lunged for Stepan, thinking that his troops would not fire at her for fear of hitting their leader. She was right, but Stepan was prepared for this. He grabbed her as she closed and spun fast, slinging her well over ten feet away. He nodded and his troops opened fire.
Clarisse dodged reasonably well and rushed back towards Stepan as Rachel let Maria take over and charge at the same time. The man was incredibly strong for a human, and used her momentum against her as he had with Clarisse. But Maria’s attack gave Clarisse the chance to barrel into him at full speed, and knock him back a few yards. She held on tight and he pummeled her and finally knocked her off. Maria wasted no time and lunged back in, nails slashing at his throat.
He shoved her away and turned to bark orders, when Clarisse used his own trick to toss him into the wall. He came back up with unbelievable speed and crouched, ready for the next attack.
While they sparred with Stepan, Lucas had pulled out his Uzi and ran for cover and began taking down Wolf Pack members and trying not to stay in one place. He seemed to be doing well, judging by the number of bodies lying on the floor.
Stepan was soon cornered by Clarisse, who was trying her best to either claw his face or attack with her fangs, Rachel was not sure which. He was trying to bring his AK47 to bear on her but she kept kicking it to the side and trying to close.
Rachel started to run to her assistance but shots from two different directions slammed into her and she spun around and hit the floor, cursing from the pain of the multiple bullet wounds.
She got her bearings and glanced back towards Clarisse in time to see Stepan spray her with the AK on full auto, she was pummeled with bullets and went down with a shriek of pain. Rachel screamed out her name and started moving toward her when she saw Stepan look shocked and whirl around toward the entrance.
Rachel crawled over and cradled Clarisse in her arms, hissing at the pain from her own bullet wounds beginning to close. Clarisse was not dead but she had nearly a full clip in her body.
Five people had walked in the doorway, and Stepan’s troops had swung their weapons from Rachel to the newcomers. Three men and two women stood in a line, looking at Rachel, Stepan, and glancing around at the assembled Wolf Pack minions. Rachel felt a certain resonance with the five strangers and Maria confirmed her feeling — they were vampires.
One of them, a dark-haired handsome man who looked to be about thirty, stepped forward, and addressed Stepan with a very slight Russian accent. “So, Stepan, you found two lovely ladies and as usual you are abusing them. How sad and how typical for you to do this.”
Stepan merely stared at his uninvited guests for a moment, and then shrugged. “This really is not your concern, Alexei. Leave now, this is between me and the girls here.”
“Ah but let me make introductions before any unpleasantness occurs, or we leave you. I know the unconscious one there is Clarisse Dubois. And I assume this one is Maria?” He looked at Rachel and raised an eyebrow.
Rachel and Maria were both uncertain how to proceed, as these five vampires seemed to know Stepan in some fashion. Maria decided to respond. “I am Maria, yes. Who are you?”
The one in the lead actually bowed to Maria, and said “My name is Alexei Simonov, Duchess. It is my very great honor and privilege to meet you. Please allow me to introduce my companions.” He gestured and a beautiful raven-haired woman with a soft face and an inviting smile walked over to him and took his hand.
“This is the love of my life, Doctor Renata Simonov.” The woman bowed and said, “Honored, Duchess.”
Alexei then gestured to a small and beautiful young Japanese woman in the group. “This is Chiyoko Satou, from Japan as I am sure you can tell?” She gave a formal bow to Rachel and quietly said “I am honored, Duchess.”
A very tall and able-looking man then walked forward and gave a slight bow to Rachel. “This is Master Sergeant Randolph Peterson, formerly of the United States Army. “
“Pleased to meet you, Duchess! “, he said with a warm smile. He looked to be around thirty-five years old, and had a Midwest accent to Rachel’s ears.
“And last, this young lad with his face in an Ipad is Steven Tallant, quite the master of technology and computers and other bizarre things humans have come up with in the past twenty years.”
A skinny and geeky-looking young man in cargo pants, tool belt, and indeed holding an Ipad nodded at Rachel, said “’Lo Duchess, nice to meet ya,” then went back to whatever he was working on. This caused Renata to frown, and Chiyoko to sigh, for some reason.
Stepan had remained silent during the introductions but Rachel could tell he was growing impatient. “Enough of this, this… vampire social gathering nonsense! These women belong to me, and you should just turn and leave them. I will forget you were ever here if you leave now.”
Chiyoko looked at Stepan with loathing. “We can hardly leave our sisters behind to be used by you to extend your already too-long life, Stepan.”
Stepan shrugged. “You risk our truce. If you will not leave, you will all be put in cells and supply me with blood just as they will be.” He did not seem to care which route was taken.
Alexei stepped toward him. “Stepan you filthy peasant, did you think we would let you just carry on with your mad schemes forever? Our talk of a truce was just that, talk. Time to put you down like the rabid dog you are.”
Stepan waved his hand. “I have decided to take Renata as my own, due to your insolence, Alexei. You have only yourself to blame.”
Renata hissed at him and bared her fangs. Stepan took no notice of this at all.
Randolph stepped closer to Stepan. “You have killed nearly every vampire in the world; do you think we will just let you go on as you have been?”
Stepan shrugged. “Ð›ÐµÑ Ñ€ÑƒÌбÑÑ‚ -- щеÌпки летÑÌÑ‚.”
Maria translated for Rachel. “When wood is chopped, woodchips will fly.”
Rachel responded, puzzled. What does that even mean?!
It is like your saying, about breaking a few eggs to make an omelet.
Oh.
Alexei frowned, obviously getting angry and wanting to end things. “Stepan you have a chance to surrender and we will pledge not to kill you.”
Stepan laughed. “Nyet! My troops and I will stake every one of you if we must. You must surrender to me and I will rule you and use your blood. There is no other way.”
Chiyoko broke her silence. “Stepan we could still make some arrangement if you were willing to listen to reason.”
Maria didn’t like hearing that at all, and made it plain to Stepan, by also speaking in Russian. “Ðе мечиÌте биÌÑер пеÌред ÑвиÌньÑми. That is, don’t cast beads before pigs, Chiyoko. This man needs to die.”
Stepan sneered at her, and told her something vile that Maria did not bother to translate. She just snarled and her fangs popped out.
Chiyoko sighed and without any particular change in expression let her own fangs appear. The Japanese woman looked quite fierce with fangs, and in Rachel’s opinion, very hot. She got a mental snort from Maria over that one.
Rachel had recovered from her wounds, mostly. At least they had all closed up and the bullets were lying around her. She carefully eased Clarisse’s head to the ground and stroked her hair gently. Clarisse was conscious, now, but quite weakened. She took Rachel’s hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Rachel tensed herself, ready to help when the fight that looked to occur actually started.
She heard a very faint whisper - Chiyoko’s voice. “No, Maria. Keep yourself and Clarisse safe, please. We will deal with these vermin quite easily. You have weakened them considerably, we will do the rest.” The woman whispered it so faintly that she doubted Stepan heard a thing.
As the vampires stared down Stepan, multiple footsteps came echoing in the door, and over fifty soldiers poured into the warehouse and began taking position behind the vampires.
Alexei grinned at Stepan. “So much for your Wolf Pack, Stepan, they are far outnumbered. We’ve been slightly busy.”
Stepan did not appear to be impressed. “This means nothing. A group of thralls? I will not surrender!” He gave a nod at his troops and they raised their rifles.
Rachel wrapped her body around Clarisse, who began to push her away. For whatever reason, she heard Clarisse clearly in her head.
No! Get away, I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself for me!
Too damn bad, Clarisse, because I’m not moving!
Rachel is right. You have massive bullet wounds, more and you would not survive. So hush and we will protect you!
A roar of automatic weapons distracted them from further conversation as the fight began in earnest. Rachel looked around and saw Alexei, Renata, and Randolph struggling with Stepan. If she had any fears that three vampires could best an almost-vampire, they were put to rest as she saw Randolph snap Stepan’s neck.
Unfortunately, the death of their leader did not stop the rest of the Wolf Pack from a fight to the death. Randolph dropped Stepan, and the three vampires converged on Rachel and Clarisse, and shielded them from further wounds.
Chiyoko soon appeared, dragging a live Wolf Pack member over to Clarisse. She slit his throat open with her razor-sharp talons and pushed the bleeding wound to Clarisse’s mouth. She drank gratefully and had soon drained the man dry.
Renata came back with another, and they allowed Clarisse to feed for herself this time, as her strength was returning. Soon, she was standing and watching Rachel feed as well, though Rachel did not take as much.
Rachel and Clarisse both looked around, and did not see a single Wolf Pack member standing. Sadly their allies seem to have lost a few troops as well, and Renata went to help those she could. Rachel imagined that a vampire doctor would be a really good person to have around. Such a doctor would have untold years of training and experience to rely on, and an always-sharp mind to absorb new skills and knowledge.
The four of them crowded around Rachel and Maria, asking after their well-being and fussing over them both as if they were fragile eggs that might break at any time. Rachel tried to send an observation about this to Clarisse but without success. She sighed and decided to ask the other vampires about this.
“Umm, Alexei? And the rest of you? I wanted to ask about something. Sometimes Clarisse and I can talk to each other mentally, you know, mind to mind. Other times we cannot. Do you know why?”
Alexei looked shocked at this, the others shrugged, but Chiyoko nodded. “I have heard of this. As vampires get older their abilities strengthen over time. You are beginning to find this out, I think. In time, you should be able to talk to each other in this way all of the time. I have some time to go before I can hope to do that.”
Clarisse brightened at hearing that. “That would be magnificent! I look forward to this happening with my dear friend!” Rachel beamed back at her, for herself and for Maria.
“I am glad you brought this up, actually,” said Alexei. “We would like to talk with the two of you, and discuss something very important.”
Rachel nodded and Clarisse smiled and said “Please, do so. You have our attention, kind rescuers! And you have my eternal gratitude for your timely entrance!”
“Mine as well,” Rachel added with a smile.
Alexei waved his hand in a casual dismissal. “We’ve been planning to take the Wolf Pack out as soon as we could get an advantage. Their distraction while stalking the two of you was the perfect chance to finally do it.”
Before anything else could be said, one of the soldiers brought Lucas to the group. His arm was in a sling but he was alive and seemed to be well. “Sir! This man claims to be working for the Baroness Dubois. We wanted to check his story out.”
Clarisse giggled, obviously happy Lucas survived but Rachel could see the mischievous look on her face. She was about to deny ever meeting the man.
Rachel laughed at Clarisse then spoke up. “He brought us here to their headquarters. I would not quite say he was working for us, as much as serving probation for being in their ranks for a few decades.”
Alexei looked at Chiyoko, then at Randolph. “I think he can stay and serve his probation at one of our places, if that is alright with you ladies?”
Both Clarisse and Rachel nodded. Neither wanted a pet around, and that is what he’d have to be if they kept him underfoot. A carefully guarded pet that they would never fully trust. Lucas put on a false hurt expression then bowed to Rachel and Clarisse and was led away.
Rachel addressed Maria before anything else was said. Should we tell them about you and me, Maria?
Hmm, let us wait for now. I want to hear what they wish to discuss and what their plans are.
Chiyoko and Alexei traded glances, and then both turned to Clarisse and Rachel. “We all feel very strongly that our people need a Queen,” Chiyoko said softly. “For obvious reasons we did not want a King, as male vampires tend to be a bit too… aggressive?”
Alexei and Randolph both burst out laughing at her euphemism. Randolph touched her on the arm and grinned. “Chiyoko is being very diplomatic, but she is correct. All five of us want one of you as our Queen. It was something we could all agree on.”
All five of the vampires nodded and even Steven gave a grunt of assent before returning to his Ipad.
Rachel glanced at Clarisse, who looked just as confused as she felt. She turned back to the group. “Which one of us do you refer to?”
Chiyoko gestured to Rachel. “The eldest, of course! The Duchess! Though if she does not wish to be our Queen, then Baroness Dubois would be welcome as well! I was turned in 1924, in Seoul. I am the eldest of our small group here, but you far outrank me.”
Alexei nodded. “I was turned in 1942, in Stalingrad. I was a Red Army Sergeant.”
Randolph grinned at Alexei. “Alexei turned me in Berlin in 1955. He just wanted an army buddy to hang out with!” This produced a roar of laughter from Alexei.
Renata smiled at Alexei. “My Alexei turned me in 1965 in Moscow. I later turned Steven here in New York, back in 1985. He’s the child of our group, as you can see.”
Steven finally spoke. “I was 21 years old, hardly a child, Renata.”
Chiyoko steered the conversation back on track. “Regardless, Maria you are the eldest, with Clarisse a close second. We need a Queen to help keep order, and adjudicate disputes.”
Alexei became animated. “Yes! A Queen to set laws and punishments for breaking our laws — the laws of vampires. It would not be a hard task, I promise you this.”
Randolph nodded enthusiastically. “We really could use a strong leader, Duchess. Someone we can look up to and listen to. We can all feel both of your immense power beside our own. Your wisdom and that power would be perfect for our Queen.”
Renata added her voice to the chorus of pleas. “I would gladly serve either of you as my Queen. We need rules, such as deciding how often we create new children, and under what circumstances we do this. You can be that guiding voice to us all.”
Clarisse spoke first. “If one of us became your Queen, you would actually obey her in all things?”
Alexei promptly replied. “Unquestionably, Baroness. In the old days, I was told that we had Kings and Queens, and every vampire obeyed them implicitly. It only made sense, for survival. We five will pledge our undying service to either of you.”
Rachel sounded a bit dubious of the whole plan. “You’d really just give up your freedom to be ruled by me or Clarisse? Why not a committee? Or some kind of council could rule? Wouldn’t that be more democratic?”
Alexei snorted, Randolph shook his head, and Renata laughed. Chiyoko answered Rachel. “We are a committee now, and we have spent more time debating matters than acting. The Wolf Pack was allowed to rampage far longer than they should because of this. We had no leadership and they took out our people one by one. We came together before it was too late — and it almost was, for both of you.”
Steven finally had put his gadget away and approached Maria. “Please, Duchess, we need you. It would not be a hardship for you.” He looked at Clarisse then. “Or for you, Baroness. You both are nobility and we know your history more or less. You traveled around Europe and didn’t leave bodies everywhere — you showed intelligence, caution, and empathy. You’re both good people. We could use your help!”
Maria frowned. “You seem to know much about us both!”
Steven grinned at that. “Computers are my thing, and the Wolf Pack kept detailed records on both of you. Your travels, the fights with you, and all that. I hacked in and that is how we kept up with what was going on. You both have a fan club, here!”
The other grinned and nodded, and Rachel actually blushed. Or was that Maria blushing? Clarisse looked slightly abashed but at the same time she did enjoy the attention.
Alexei looked at both Rachel and Clarisse. “This is something you both might need time to consider. We can escort you back to one of our safe houses if you like. There, you can rest, feed, bathe, and decide what you would like to do.”
Chiyoko spoke once more, in a heartfelt plea. “All we ask is that you, both of you, please consider this request carefully. We need you.”
The vampires escorted them to their vehicles and soon Clarisse and Rachel were whisked off to a remote estate outside of Bucharest. Armed guards manned the gate, and several were patrolling the ground with dogs. It was a veritable fortress. Rachel noted this, and Chiyoko, their companion in the car, nodded.
“We have had to increase our security to insane measures since the Wolf Pack began to become a real nuisance. They grew too fast and we wasted too much time debating and spent not enough time acting. By then it was too late, they had almost an army to face us.”
They entered the opulent mansion and Chiyoko escorted them to their room. It had a bath fit for a King, or a Queen, and a luxurious king size bed. The drapery was thick and heavy and would block sunlight. Maria noted that the had vampires planned well and she liked what she saw.
Chiyoko bowed deeply to both Rachel and then Clarisse. “My Duchess, My Baroness, I will leave you to rest, bathe, relax and contemplate our plea to you. A servant is in the hall if you have need of anything at all. Please do not hesitate to be at home here. We will be downstairs should you wish to ask questions or favor us with an answer.”
She bowed again and left the room, closing the double-doors behind her.
Rachel and Clarisse stared at each other for all of five seconds then raced to the tub and began filling it with hot water.
Clothes were shed and they were soon soaking in hot suds and in a sea of bubbles.
“But I don’t want to be a Queen!” Rachel wailed.
Maria sighed, and shook her head. “Rachel, this duty does not sound so bad, and I think that either Clarisse or I could do it and do it well. And please do not pout, or be petulant. It does not suit you. More to the point, it certainly does not suit me in this body!”
Clarisse smiled at Maria. “I agree with Maria completely. You heard them Rachel, they need one of us. I understand exactly why they wish a Queen, and I believe that one of us would be ideal.”
Maria continued, looking sad but quite unsurprised at Rachel’s rejection of the very notion of being a Queen. After all, she’d shared her very thoughts for quite a while now. “Rachel, darling, this would not be a bad thing. And perhaps we could share the duty somewhat between us, yes?”
Clarisse applauded and looked delighted with the idea. “Maria will be the Queen, and I will be her Duchess! I like it!”
Both Clarisse and Rachel were completely flabbergasted when Maria responded to that. “No, no, Clarisse! I want you to be Queen, while I become your Duchess!”
Clarisse finally found her voice. “But… you are the Eldest! And, a Duchess already! You outrank me by human AND vampire law!”
Maria snorted. “I could care less about that. I have been asleep for over a century, Clarisse — you have not. Also, lest you forget, Rachel does not want this duty. Besides, Rachel and I have many things to work out between us, not the least of which is trying to find out how we came to be this way.”
“Maria… I feel deep in my very being that you should be our Queen. I know you are not much older than I, but it would feel wrong to me to ascend and be the Queen while you were my Duchess!”
Rachel voiced her opinion. “I have to agree with Maria, Clarisse. She and I are still getting used to this strange situation that we are in. I think that you should take the job.”
Clarisse pouted her cutest pout, which in Rachel’s opinion was pretty damn cute. “Please, Maria and Rachel, accept the throne? I will help you and be at your side for as long as you would have me there! I have come to love and respect you both so much! I would be so thrilled to have you as my Queen.”
“We love and respect you as well, Clarisse! It is why Maria and I would be happy to serve you as our Queen.”
They got out of the tub and toweled off slowly, then donned the thick luxurious robes that had already been provided. Neither were surprised to find the robes a perfect fit. Their hosts were very detail-oriented.
They walked back to the sofa and Maria plopped down and prepared to argue until she got her way. Rachel felt that the two of them could talk Clarisse into the crown if they wore her down.
Clarisse went digging through her purse and out popped her holder and a cigarette, which she proceeded to smoke. Rachel smirked, knowing that Maria had unnerved the Baroness with her proposal.
Clarisse paced and smoked for a few moments then whirled around to Rachel. “I will accept this crown on one condition, mon ami!”
Rachel and Maria nearly both replied at the same time, or tried to. “And what is that?”
“You will indeed be my Duchess, which in this case would be my second in command. You will pledge to help make certain that I am fair and just in all my decisions. And you will take my place if something happened to me.”
Rachel let Maria answer first. “I find that an acceptable situation, Majesty.”
Clarisse threw a pillow at her. “Cut that out! What about you, Rachel?”
Rachel grinned at Clarisse. “Oh yes, your Majesty, I would approve as well!”
Soon a pillow fight broke out and feathers and shrieks filled the room.
Chiyoko paced the floor constantly, hoping that one of their two honored guests would be willing to serve as their Queen. She’d despaired of ever being able to see her people make decisions or make any positive steps to a structured society.
All vampires were so stubborn and could be so arrogant that her efforts to date had gotten nowhere. Even though Alexei wholeheartedly agreed with her, in fact they all did, none of them felt that any of the others would make a good ruler.
Randolph had pushed for Chiyoko to be the Queen before they discovered that Maria was alive and had escaped the Wolf Pack. This had led them to learn of the reclusive Clarisse’s existence as well.
Chiyoko had refused to even consider being Queen once they heard that Maria and Clarisse existed.
Renata had her head cocked, obviously listening to something upstairs. “Chi, Alex… they are fighting! I hear them hitting each other and shrieking! Perhaps one of us should go up?”
Alexei leaped up from the chair he was sitting in. “They fight over the crown? Surely not? Renata would you go check on them?”
Renata smirked at her husband. “Coward,” she offered, and then headed up the stairs.
Silence reigned for some time, and Alexei nervously tapped his foot in the total silence. Steven was still absorbed in his Ipad and Chiyoko continued to pace. Randolph was slouched on one of the expensive sofas, apparently not overly concerned with whatever was happening upstairs.
Just as Chiyoko was about to go up the stairs, Renata re-appeared, with Clarisse and Rachel in tow. All three were laughing, dripping wet, and covered in feathers. Steven dropped his pad and stared, and Randolph snickered. Alexei and Chiyoko just looked confused.
“They were having the mother of all pillow fights! And they dragged me into it, and we ended up in the bath!” She started laughing again, as Rachel and Clarisse both grabbed her and gave her a hug.
All five gathered around, grinning at the two feather-covered elder vampires, and waited patiently to hear what they had to say.
Rachel sighed, and then Clarisse sighed. Both would have rather continued the pillow fight, and then had some “make-up” sex after the war, but both also knew how anxious their hosts were.
“We have some questions for you all before we make any permanent decisions, if you do not mind?” Maria said.
Alexei bowed to her. “Of course, my Duchess! Please, come sit with us and we will answer any and all questions you might have. We are at your disposal.”
Rachel frowned, all of this bowing and scraping wasn’t something she really liked, but she kept silent, earning Maria’s gratitude.
Rachel voiced the first question. “Just how real would this Queen position be? I mean, would it be more Queen Elizabeth the Second of England in the present time, or more Queen Victoria of England as in ‘off with their heads’ and total despot kind of thing?”
Alexei laughed. “Duchess you have a unique sense of humor and way of talking sometimes. Almost as if you were two different people! Well, as we envisioned this, you could be considered a despot if you look at it that way. You would have total power and say-so over all vampires, present and future.”
Rachel frowned, both from his noting of the differences in the way she and Maria phrased things and the idea of being some all-powerful despot.
Maria asked, “And who would enforce the Queen’s power?”
Chiyoko fielded that one. “Over time, we assume the Queen would appoint people to positions, such as a First Minister or Secretary — someone to note and prosecute crimes before the Crown, and keep careful note of laws and regulations and a census, etcetera.”
Randolph chimed in. “We thought something along the lines of the British Monarchy, but with real power. We don’t want to have another situation where we do nothing but argue and debate every little thing while disaster strikes.”
“If one of us were to accept this position, it would only be if it were understood that the Queen would be obeyed implicitly and not questioned on every decision or order. Of course, if the Queen became insane I suppose a vote could be taken to impeach her?”
They all nodded and seemed to agree with this. Chiyoko once again spoke for them all. “We have already agreed that if we do this, we will surrender our will to the Queen, and make sure that all future vampires will obey her.”
Steven walked over to Rachel and handed her a piece of paper. On it were an oath for the Queen to pronounce, and an oath for her subjects to swear to her. Alexei ran over to a table and brought a wooden box over and held it ready.
Shit just got real, as they say.
Indeed, Rachel! I am glad we are not the one saying this royal oath!
Amen, Maria!
Rachel asked the next question. “Would you expect or require the Queen to reside in any particular place or a palace or something like that?”
Randolph grinned at her. “We have estates in all of the major countries of the world. Our Queen will have full use of them all, or she can also build her own palace if she so desires. We do not lack for money after all.”
Chiyoko agreed. “We only came together here to deal with this Wolf Pack. We travel often, we visit, and then we part. There would be no need for you to be tied to any particular location unless you wanted to be.”
Maria cleared her throat and looked at the hopeful faces. “We talked about this unique honor you offer both Clarisse and I, and we decided that in the best interests of all of our people, that Baroness Clarisse Dubois would be the best choice for our Queen.”
Surprise was echoed on several faces but nothing was said while they awaited the rest.
Clarisse took Rachel’s hand. “My best friend, and lover, speaks the truth; I will be your Queen if you would have me. Maria will be Duchess, my Second if I am incapacitated or otherwise unable to do my duties, and will also be my voice in many things. You get two-for-one with us!”
All five of their hosts smiled broadly. It seemed they liked the proposal. All five immediately knelt on the floor, and then Rachel joined them. Clarisse looked radiant and every bit a Queen as she read her oath:
“Assuming the office of Queen of the Vampires, I, Baroness Clarisse Antoinette Dubois, do solemnly swear and affirm that I will rule my people with fairness, justice, and mercy. And, I shall, with every fiber of my being, defend, protect, and nurture my people for as long as I shall live, so help me God.”
She passed the paper to Rachel, who read the oath to the Queen along with the five others kneeling before Clarisse.
“I, Rachel Maria Harrison, do solemnly swear and affirm that I will be a true and faithful servant to Her Majesty, Queen Clarisse Dubois, and that I do faithfully promise to maintain, support, and defend, to the utmost of my power, Her Royal Highness to the death. And, I will obey without question, and counsel my Queen if she so asks, in any fashion that She sees fit, so help me God.”
“Arise, my loyal subjects!” Clarisse intoned, smiling lovingly at them all.
Alexei stepped forward and held his wooden box out to Rachel. She opened it, and inside was a simple golden crown, set with several large diamonds, emeralds, and rubies. It was beautiful. She gently raised it, and turned to Clarisse. Clarisse lowered herself for a moment and Rachel set the crown on her head amidst her golden hair.
Clarisse stood upright once again and her people all cheered their new Queen.
After the ceremony, Clarisse declared that a Coronation Party was in order, and they all were quite pleased with her first royal order. Servants were summoned, and a party was quickly put together. With a stereo blasting dance music, and quite a few servants dancing with the vampires it soon looked like a nightclub in the ballroom of the manor.
Steven turned out to be a good DJ, which was all he was willing to do at the party. He didn’t dance, but he entertained them all. Clarisse danced first with Rachel, of course. Steven might have been a computer geek but he wasn’t slow on the uptake at all. He put on a slow romantic song for their first dance.
She then danced with all of her subjects, and after some teasing and mock-angry orders managed to entice Steven to her side for one dance, as well. Of them all, Randolph surprised her by being an impeccable dancer. Alexei was good, but seemed hesitant, perhaps in fear of jealousy from Renata.
Chiyoko preferred a thumping nightclub beat, while the men and Renata preferred slow, more conventional dances from older times.
Rachel and Maria danced with everyone as well, and Maria took the opportunity to speak quietly with each of her partners as the dancing and music allowed. She told Rachel she was doing her duty to Clarisse and sensing the mood of her subjects and finding out what the expectations were.
Rachel was slightly surprised. I thought Clarisse would just issue some orders and that would be that.
I have called you a foolish girl several times in the past, do not make me say it again Rachel! Rachel could hear her laughing. I know how you think of royalty and nobles, but you know so little of the reality. Of course I must sample the mood of everyone, and then advise Clarisse on what her people want. She then will proclaim her wishes, which in most cases will be very close to what everyone already wanted.
Maria that is… devious, and quite astounding! Nothing like what I was expecting.
No, no Rachel. It is just how you do it properly. You shall learn!
And Clarisse is expecting this, right?
Of course, Rachel! As her Duchess I must watch out for her, and help her maintain peace and happiness. You will see how well things work, so do not worry please.
I’ll trust you both; you seem to know this stuff pretty well.
They spent the rest of the night dancing, talking, singing, and laughing. Clarisse was even able to coax Maria into singing quite a few songs, to the delight of everyone. Maria spent some time whispering suggestions and things her people were hoping for to Clarisse. Rachel was not surprised that Clarisse expected this, and seemed pleased at all she heard.
At one point Renata brought special servants in so that they could all take some nourishment.
Clarisse took this opportunity to address that very issue. “I am quite pleased that we all already share the same philosophy when it comes to our sustenance. When I was first turned I was a vicious killer, and in time I came to regret that. Not just for the practical reason — trying to avoid attention. I also speak of my guilt for killing without need.”
Everyone nodded, and she could see that they all agreed with her on both counts. “I think that our first Laws should address that, my friends. We do not kill without need, and we keep our existence as secret as possible from humanity.” Everyone in the room looked pleased at her pronouncement, as Rachel had suspected they would.
Steven was taking notes on his Ipad and Clarisse beamed at him and gave him a thumbs up. She knew her words would be archived and preserved with him on the job. She made her first royal appointment.
“I appoint you, Steven Tallant, as our Royal Archivist, Law-keeper, and Technologist. You will keep track of pronouncements, laws, history, and also secure communications and privacy for me and our people.”
Steven bowed low, looking more pleased than she’d seen so far. “Thank you, My Queen. I am honored to accept and I will serve you well!”
“Now, Alexei Simonov. You shall be our Minister to Fledgling Vampires. You have turned several and I must say you have done an excellent job as their sire! I would like you to continue to supervise, train, and help new vampires that we here turn, or that we discover later, to fit in with our society, moral code, and such things as finding safe havens.”
Alexei bowed very low, his face radiant. “You honor me, my Queen. I accept this task and will not let you down!”
Clarisse turned to Alexei’s lovely wife and took her hand. “Renata Simonov, you are a skilled doctor, and your appointment shall be the Royal Doctor and Researcher. I hope that this pleases you, and leaves you plenty of time for happiness with your husband, and time to help him when he might need it.”
“My Queen, I am honored and accept graciously. I will always be there for you, you need but ask.” Renata bowed low.
“Randolph Peterson, my sources tell me you can best even Alexei in two out of three falls. Is this true?”
Alexei groaned and Randolph let out a belly laugh. “Well, if I don’t let him win, then yeah, Majesty, I can!”
Clarisse smiled. “That is well. Unfortunately we cannot always live in peace and tranquility. People like the Wolf Pack might show up again. And, we still have the splinter organization to deal with — the ones who only kill, rather than capture us. I appoint you as our Minister of Security, to deal with such eventualities and to keep us all safe.”
Randolph bowed, and then kissed her hand. He looked up into her eyes with a fierce loyalty and to Clarisse’s eyes a slight bit of flirtatiousness. “Your Majesty, I am honored to accept your appointment and I won’t let you down, ever.”
“And last, but certainly not the least, Chiyoko Satou. I understand that you organized this group and kept them together, while proposing that we have a Queen to start with? And you also talked everyone into coming to our rescue?”
Chiyoko actually blushed and looked down at the floor. “Yes, Your Highness, that is true. But, you give me more credit than is due, I think.”
Clarisse took Chiyoko’s chin in her hand and raised her head gently to look right into her eyes. “You shall be our First Minister, Chiyoko. You will organize things for me, help keep me from being drowned in minutiae, and help Maria keep me on the right path.”
Chiyoko bowed deeply to Clarisse. “You honor me, my Queen, and I shall serve you with loyalty and love to the ends of the earth.”
Clarisse smiled at everyone, and then took Rachel’s hand in her own. “Maria will of course be my Duchess, my Second in Command, my strong right hand, and, if she will, my royal consort.”
Rachel gasped and threw herself into Clarisse’s arms and they kissed deeply, hearing a round of applause from not only the vampires but all of the servants as well.
“I will take that as a ‘yes’, my dear?” Clarisse teased.
“Yes, your Royal Majesty, that is a yes,” Rachel answered with a grin.
Maria, what exactly does a Royal Consort do?
She sensed quite a bit of amusement from Maria. They fuck, Rachel, duh?
Nobody understood why Rachel was laughing so hard that tears came from her eyes, but since dawn was approaching they all retired for the day.
The next evening, Clarisse informed her subjects that she and Maria would be traveling to America to spend some time, and consulted with Steven on a secure website, secured encrypted cell phones, and locations of all safe houses they owned in America.
Before leaving, she told them to think of favorite servants, friends, and others that they might wish to turn, so that their depleted ranks would grow again.
“Of course I do not want a population explosion, but seven is far too few of us. I’d like to have more of us as soon as we can arrange it.”
She and Rachel were driven to the airport and were surprised to find that the Queen had her own special jet already fueled and awaiting her. Clarisse was obviously touched that they had done this and hugged all of her subjects tightly. She left it to Chiyoko to plan a gathering sometime within the next year.
They boarded the plane with a few servants, and the first stop would be Paris, she learned. Rachel had arranged to stop and let Clarisse take her favorite servants and outfits along on their trip.
“You look very pleased, your Majesty,” Rachel noted.
“Rachel. If you do not stop calling me that in private I will put you over my royal knee and give you a spanking,” Clarisse said through gritted teeth.
Maria said, “Promise?”
Both Maria and Rachel’s pealing laughter filled the plane as they headed west into the sunset.
The End
(for now)
Dramatis Personá¦
- Duchess Maria, of Arad, turned 1608, Arad, Romania
- Baroness Clarisse Antoinette Dubois, turned 1793, Paris, France
- Chiyoko Satou, teacher, turned 1924, Kaesong, Korea
- Alexei Simonov, Soviet Army Sgt., turned 1942, Stalingrad, USSR
- Randolph Peterson, US Army Sgt., turned 1955, Berlin, Germany
- Renata Simonov, doctor, turned 1965, Moscow, USSR
- Steven Tallant, computer science major, turned 1985, New York City, USA
- Rachel Harrison, Historian, turned 2010, near Sibiu, Romania
The Rose in Winter
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The Rose in Winter
Copyright © 2012 Jenny Sugar
All Rights Reserved.
Terry Simpson trudged along the snow-covered sidewalk to his apartment. In his arm was cradled a paper bag with a fifth of Johnny Walker. He looked up at the darkening skies and knew that the forecast of snow for Christmas was an accurate one, for once.
His 24th Christmas, to be spent alone, as most of them had since graduation and finding employment. He entered his drab apartment and fished the bottle of liquor out of the paper bag and set it on the kitchen table. Tossing the bag, he paused, thinking that perhaps tonight he’d let his true self out for a while.
Deciding that since there was no work tomorrow for him, he might as well do it, he headed for the second bedroom. He kept it locked, for obvious reasons, and unlocked it and turned on the light.
Rather than a bedroom, this room looked like a woman’s walk-in closet. Two department store type metal racks on wheels were both full of dresses and two and three-piece outfits. A large shoe rack graced one corner, stuffed full of flats, heels, ankle boots, and tons of pumps. A large dresser was in another corner, with a large oval mirror and to one side, a lighted makeup mirror. Makeup was lined up in a rough sort of order all over the top.
Articles and how-to guides of every sort of makeup and hair tips were taped to the edges of the mirror on both sides, most cut from teen girl magazines. Three shelves were to the right of the mirror, all held foam heads sporting various types and colors of wigs. On the back of the door was attached a mirror, as well, the kind a woman could check her entire look in.
He looked at himself in the door’s mirror, seeing a very skinny (for a man) person with no body fat to speak of. A brown mop of hair (unruly and rarely combed or brushed) topped a head with an oval-shaped face. A very feminine face, even without makeup or the earring studs he currently had in. They would be replaced with large hoops later on this evening as he left Terry the man behind and became Terry the woman.
Terry was five and a half feet tall, which helped him pass as a woman on the very rare occasions he went out en-femme. He’d been dressing in women’s clothing since he was twelve and was allowed to be home alone for the first time. His mother’s smaller dresses, blouses, and one of her fur coats were all fair game as he indulged his perversions (as he thought of it at the time.)
Inevitably he had been caught by his mother and screeching and accusations of Terry being gay had followed. His mother had always worried when he was younger because all of his close friends were girls. She blamed herself for divorcing and raising him without a father.
Over time things had calmed and he’d never touched his mother’s things again. Instead he’d gotten a locking trunk in the bottom of his closet and started buying his own things. College was not much different, and he only stayed long enough to get an associate degree. This led to a decent job at his current employer, developing software for automated controls. Unfortunately the job was not a high-paying one, and between high rent, paying his student loan back, and food his only real frills were his secret items he stored in the spare bedroom.
As Terry slipped on each item of clothing, he started feeling happier and “he” became “she”. She sat at her makeup mirror and expertly applied foundation, translucent powder, mascara, eye shadow, lipstick, and worked her hair into a decent style.
When she was done, she stood in front of the mirror and was pleased with what she saw. Every time Terry dressed up and went out on weekends was a grand adventure. She was quite proud of the fact that due to her feminine features she was never “clocked” by anyone as a “tranny” and passed as a woman completely.
She wandered into the kitchen and was about to open the fifth of whiskey when she heard a knock on her door. Slightly alarmed by the knock, she slipped over to the peephole and looked out. Swirls of snow blew around a woman standing at her door, in what looked like a fur coat. She slipped the chain on the door and opened it a few inches.
Without the distorting view of the peephole she could tell that the woman was a cross-dresser, as the planes and shape of her face showed. She was wearing an expensive fur coat.
“May I come in, Terry?” the obviously cross-dressed woman said. “The snow is really coming down out here; I’d like to get out of it!”
Terry was horrified that this person knew her name, and thus her birth gender, no doubt. But, compassion and her inner sweetness forced her to step aside and gesture the stranger into her home.
The woman was in a floor-length expensive mink coat. She shrugged out of it and hung it on Terry’s coat rack carefully. She turned and Terry got her first good look at the woman. Her face was angular and obviously male, her biggest giveaway. She looked to be around sixty years old, perhaps older.
Her wig was one of the more expensive ones, certainly. Her dress was a designer dress, Dolce and Gabbana, if Terry was any judge. Much more expensive than anything Terry could afford. For Terry, a nice dress involved shopping online at discount shops.
“You may call me Roxanne, Terry. Thank you for letting me in tonight. I drove here to speak with you about something important. I had no idea I’d be caught in such a blizzard or I’d have waited for another time!”
Roxanne was softening her voice but it was a baritone that no amount of softening could fool anyone at all.
She spotted the bottle of liquor on the table and turned back to Terry. “A bottle of whiskey and an empty apartment on Christmas Eve, Terry do you know how sad this looks?”
Terry nodded, and offered to share it with her unexpected visitor. Roxanne smiled at Terry and accepted her hospitality, and remarked, “I know much about you, Terry. And I know that at heart you are a good person. You invited me in your home without even knowing who I am.”
Terry got two glasses out and poured them each about half a glass. She ushered Roxanne over to her living area, which consisted of two comfortable chairs, a small coffee table, and little else. They sat down and Terry waited to hear what Roxanne had to say.
She sipped her whiskey with a grimace, and sat the glass down on the table. “I am getting short on time, these days, and I wanted to visit with you while I could.”
Terry looked at her uncertainly and responded. “How do you know me, Roxanne? Who, exactly, are you?”
“Who I am is not that important, Terry. Why I am here is. I’ve had you checked out and I have also watched you for some time. You are living a lie, Terry. A miserable existence at best, and worst of all, you know this, don’t you?”
Terry was startled and a bit unnerved by what Roxanne had said. “Umm, Roxanne, that worries me a little you know. I try to keep to myself and it seems you know all about me?”
Roxanne waved her hand and dismissed his concerns. “If the mink coat didn’t convince you then the Mercedes outside probably wouldn’t either, Terry. I am quite wealthy and not some random stalker or tranny psycho looking to stab you for some money to get a meth or crack fix. I am here on your behalf, really, not my own.” She bent over coughing and took a sip of her drink before continuing.
“In my life, Terry, I was so much like you. I knew I was different, I learned over time of the woman inside me. But, look at my face, my height, and my broad shoulders. I could never be passable and worse yet, I knew it. Nothing that I could do and it made me a very bitter man. I used that bitterness, though. I focused everything that I had into my work and never allowed myself a personal life. Outside of the random call girl here and there, I never had a sex life, either.”
“My marriage was a joke. Sure, I loved my wife, but things just didn’t work out well at all. She got a huge settlement and left rather happy with it all. And I? I threw myself back into work, of course. That’s the first thing that I wanted to share with you tonight. Don’t ever let work take over your life, Terry. You need balance! I never ever had it.”
“Am I to be visited by three ghosts, later?” Terry asked facetiously.
Roxanne tilted her head back and laughed. “Good one! No, just me, Terry. Just me.”
“Look at you, Terry. You are far more passable than I ever was, and you don’t even have to work at it that hard. You look just like an average woman right now. But you refuse to go further with it. You work, you come home, and you dress up a few nights a week. Lather, rinse, and repeat week after week — till you retire and die. That’s not a life, Terry.”
Terry shrugged uncomfortably. “I have to work hard, or starve. I don’t have any friends really and even if I did I’d have to hide my cross-dressing from them. And if word got out at work about my little habit, I’d be ridiculed, or ignored or even fired.”
“Focusing on nothing much but work and indulging my dressing habit has left me fabulously wealthy but sad and unfulfilled. I see you on the same path, Terry.”
“I don’t seem to have a problem with being fabulously wealthy, you know. Look around here and I think you can see that,” Terry replied, slightly bitter.
Terry’s reply only made Roxanne roll her eyes. “Sure, you’re starting out, and I’ll admit that times are hard right now to make a start. You miss my point, though, kid. Wealth is nice but in the end it is worthless without someone to share it with. Or, at the least, having fun yourself with it!”
Terry nodded. Roxanne went on. “Here you sit on Christmas Eve, alone, with a bottle of liquor and little else. Your life is an endless loop, Terry. Sleep, eat, go to work, come home, sleep, and eat. You have no friends! Why do you not have friends, Terry?”
Terry looked both angry and uncomfortable with the question, but finally snapped out, “Because I can’t find any friends worth having!”
Roxanne sadly shook her head. “You can’t find any friends that you want to share the real inner you with, you mean. You’re a woman inside, but live as a man in a man’s body. It is your deepest and darkest secret, and one that you feel would drive away anyone who became close to you. Am I right, Terry?”
Terry eyes begin to water and tears escaped, which she quickly brushed aside. “Look, Roxanne, all of that may be true but what is it to you?”
Roxanne pointed at herself and ran her hand along her own body. “Look at me, Terry! I know how it feels! But, I have never been completely passable like you. You have the opportunity to go for it! You can become your inner woman, not sit trapped like I have for years and cross-dress in secret!”
Terry glared at her visitor. “You think it’s that easy? Hormones cost a fortune. Breast implants are not free. And, genital reassignment surgery? Hah, forget about it. I’ll never be able to afford such things.”
She paused and took a belt of the liquor, then went on. “Besides, if I tried to transition, I’d lose my damn job and then I’d lose my apartment and end up on the streets. Don’t you see, I am stuck right now, I can’t do a thing about this even if I wanted to.”
“You’re only stuck because you won’t take the first step,” Roxanne replied.
“Yeah, and how would you know anyway? You said you are wealthy. What do you know about making ends meet, about being one paycheck away from homelessness?”
Roxanne replied softly. “I was poor, once, with no food, no home, and sleeping on a cousin’s couch. But I never stopped trying, and in the end I built my own company and had amazing success, Terry.”
“Well goody for you, Roxanne. Maybe one day I will get a shot at the brass ring and then we will see, won’t we? But until then, I guess I will just live with things as they are.”
Roxanne went from another angle. “Why are you not in a Transgender support group, Terry? There are many of them in this area, and you could go to meetings in one of the neighboring towns if you’re afraid of being seen.”
Terry sighed and took another sip of whiskey. She glanced out the window at the swirling snow a moment before answering. “I’ve tried those, and it was okay I guess but it didn’t help me get anywhere. The people were nice but they couldn’t make my life better. I prefer to make my own way rather than dump my problems on a bunch of strangers, besides.”
“I know you are very independent, Terry. I know much about you and I think you will do well in life, if you are given a small push to get you on your way.” She seemed to come to a decision, and set the glass down and looked earnestly into Terry’s eyes.
“Terry, the doctors tell me I have one to three months, at best. I’ll be bedridden and unable to do much soon, as well. I wanted to meet you once, and tell you that I am leaving you some things to help get your life to where it should be.”
“Things? Roxanne, I don’t understand?”
“It’s all in my will. I don’t have kids, and I don’t even have cousins or nieces or nephews to leave anything to, so when I noticed you and found out your situation, I thought you’d appreciate a little help.” For some reason Roxanne grinned when she said this.
“But… I don’t even know you! This is… crazy!” She laughed, thinking this was like some kind of bizarre alcohol-induced dream. Rather than Santa on Christmas Eve, she got a strange old tranny in a fur coat promising riches when she kicked off.
Terry’s face must have revealed her thoughts because Roxanne chortled. “It sounds crazy, but there you go, it is true. Anyway, Terry, I want a promise from you, one that you will keep. If I leave you the wherewithal to do all of those things we spoke of, including the GRS, I want your solemn oath that you will do it. You are like a rosebud right now Terry, and I am simply providing the help to make you bloom into a beautiful rose. Will you do that, Terry? Will you bloom for me?”
Terry didn’t have to really consider her response. “Roxanne, if you are telling the truth and you were to leave me enough to do all of that, then hell yes I promise I will do it! I’ll do it all, the hormones, the breasts, the GRS… yes, I swear that I will do it! A new start, as you said.”
Roxanne smiled and took Terry’s hand and held it in both of hers. “That is all I ask, young lady. Don’t sit in silence and loneliness, get out there and be the vibrant happy woman that I never could be. Oh, in the will you are going to be listed as my niece, so keep that in mind, okay?”
Terry nodded, understanding Roxanne was going to make sure her niece was the one inheriting the money. A final push from beyond the grave, as it were.
Roxanne stood and Terry helped her into her fur coat. She looked out the window again, and while it wasn’t a blizzard any more, there were still flurries coming down. Christmas morning would be beautiful. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? The streets might be rough…”
“Thank you, Terry, but I must be going, honey.” She pulled Terry into a hug, and Terry could feel how bony and wasted her body was when she returned it.
Roxanne paused before going out the door. “I feel really good about you, Terry. You’ll be contacted by my lawyer when I pass. Please, use what I leave you to live a full life as a woman, and never forget to enjoy life. It is gone, before you know it. Goodbye my friend.”
Roxanne walked out the door and as Terry watched, went up to an idling Mercedes, where a driver popped out and helped her into the passenger side. The car left, and Terry closed the door and sat down, still amazed at what had happened.
Terry spent the rest of the evening watching the snow fall and taking an occasional sip from the bottle, occasionally thinking about the odd visitor.
January ran into February and the Valentines were all over the office doors and cubicles for the approaching holiday. Terry had an office now, a small one, but it had a door and offered some privacy.
She’d almost completely forgotten the strange Christmas Eve visit from Roxanne, and even if her visitor had been sincere, Terry did not like the thought of coming into a little money due to her passing.
Terry was about to dig into a batch of reports when someone knocked on her office door. She yelled out “Come in!” and a man in a very expensive suit walked in and closed the door behind him. He walked over to her desk and offered his hand, which Terry took.
“Miss Simpson, my name is Leonard Paulson, and I am an attorney. My firm is probating a will, and you are both the beneficiary and the executor of the estate.”
So it was all true! Roxanne was not pulling my leg! She actually left me a little money, it seems! Terry’s face must have revealed his shock, because the lawyer smiled a knowing smile.
“Yes, he said that you’d be surprised when I came to see you. Miss Simpson, you’ve been left the entire estate of James Montgomery, and that includes his home, his company, and all of his possessions. He left some small amounts to certain individuals, but the bulk of it is now yours.”
Terry felt faint and gasped. “That James Montgomery, the CEO and owner of this company?!”
Paulson nodded, and replied. “Yes Miss Simpson, that James Montgomery. You own this company now!” He grinned at her. “Congratulations, Madame CEO!”
If Terry had been standing, she’d have had to sit down in a hurry. Her head was spinning and her breath was caught. James Montgomery was worth millions, and supposedly had a very luxurious estate.
Paulson looked hesitant for a moment, and then plunged onward. “There is a codicil, a secret one, that we need to discuss.”
Terry nodded, already figuring out what was coming.
“The Will specifically leaves everything to James Montgomery’s niece, Terry Simpson. The codicil states that you will legally change your gender to female and live as his niece. He told me that this was discussed and you had agreed to it previously. Is this still true?”
Terry didn’t have to think about her answer. “Yes, completely and totally, I agree to the terms.”
Paulson smiled happily. “Good news! I am pleased that this will go smoothly, then. I am to help you with everything, which is also in the codicil. Plus, James asked me personally to help you in any way that I can, and I will honor his wishes.”
He began to rummage in his briefcase and pulled out a folder, which he then handed to Terry. “In there you will find everything pre-arranged for you. James found you the very best doctor in the field, and has set everything up in advance. All you need do is show up, basically.”
Terry flipped through the documents, and found a birth certificate with “Terry Montgomery” on it, listed as a female, with his own birthdate. He had to sign some papers, including medical releases and forms for a feminization specialist. He asked the lawyer about it.
“Oh yes, Terry. James searched high and low and found the absolute best doctor in the field of GRS and feminization. All of the fees are prepaid, so you are good to go.” He stood and offered his hand, and Terry shook it. “I’ll be in touch, Terry. As for your position at the company, I’d suggest that Terry Simpson turn in his resignation today.”
Terry nodded in agreement, and went and sat down at his computer. There was an all-employee email detailing the death of their CEO and also mentioning his replacement: a niece of Montgomery’s named Terry Montgomery. Apparently she was the daughter of Montgomery’s deceased younger sister.
Terry’s head was spinning from all that was happening. He decided to quit his job, first, then go ahead with the plans he’d been given. Quitting was not a big deal at all, as his boss was facing losing a few people in his department by attrition anyway. He promised Terry a good reference and wished him well. Terry left with a small cardboard box of items and a wave.
The next three months were a complete blur to Terry, who had multiple surgeries, voice coaching, feminine coaching, and tons of paperwork to sort through. But, over time, the woman within emerged like a butterfly from its cocoon.
Eventually Terry Montgomery took the helm of her deceased uncle’s company. She also settled comfortably into his beautiful home, and enjoyed settling in to her new identity.
Terry did well, and was able to rely on Paulson for advice and help with any and all legal situations and quite a few business decisions. She decided to follow Montgomery’s policies and plans as much as possible, without rocking the boat too much. Terry was finally happy and her exterior matched the woman within. A confident and happy woman, everyone could see that.
Terry sat in a private room in her beautiful home; staring at a portrait of James Montgomery dressed and made up as Roxanne. It was Christmas Eve again, and once more it was snowing outside — thought not nearly as hard as it had been that fateful Christmas Eve one year ago.
Terry sipped a very expensive wine and raised her glass to Roxanne. “You saved me from a sad and lonely life, Roxanne. Without your generosity I’d still be sitting in that apartment wishing for what I could never have.”
She stood, revealing an expensive dress and jewelry. She was heading to a Christmas Party, and looked forward to it. The old Terry would never go to a party, nor would get close enough to people to even get invited to one, really. The new Terry was making friends, cautiously, but making friends.
“Thank you Roxanne, for everything. I’ll never forget you, and I will try to live my life to the fullest and honor what you did for me. Merry Christmas, Roxanne!”
Terry turned out the light, and headed out to enjoy herself, and bloom.
Just remember, in the winter
Far beneath, the bitter snow
Lies the seed, that with the sun’s love
In the spring, becomes the rose