Nightwalker Chapter 12

As one enters the abode of a vampire, what feelings must wash over them? Guesses would tend to be the likes of: terror, horror, impending doom, and whatever other words or phrases you could think of that all boil down to one thing, fear. For Lev, for at least a moment anyway, he felt relief as he stepped inside the manor of the blood countess and heard the door close behind him. Relief to be in from the dark and the creatures that had just been hinted at that lurk within that claustrophobic curtain of night. He still bore the marks of his first run-in with a mongrel, he still remembered the smell of its breath, and he still had the feeling of its cold, decayed flesh under his fingernails. A feeling that no matter how many times he cleaned his hands, he couldn't get rid of.

That feeling of relief soon waned, however, as he focused on his new surroundings. The intro Karl Baumann gave him, coupled with what he had seen on his walk to her manor, all gave an impression of what he was expecting to see inside. What he saw before him now was nothing like what he had expected.

Instead of a literal house of horrors adorned in human flesh and bone, there was a beautiful, spotless home like something from a period drama one would see on TV. The wood flooring was a deep red and covered strategically with ornate Persian rugs that ranged in varying shades of red. Apart from the odd splash of black or white, almost everything Lev could see was colored in some form of red; the staircase that led up to a small landing before splitting upwards again to both left and right was a deep walnut red, the doors, the walls and even the roof all some form of red.

In a way, Lev felt he had somehow ended up inside the digestive system of some wooden monster. And then he took a closer look at the paintings on the walls. Most of them depicted tangled numbers of writhing bodies in what Lev couldn't tell was great pain or great ecstasy. The artwork located above the staircase landing was the most unsettling piece of all. Painted directly onto the wall was a depiction of a crazed man eating another human, one arm and the head already missing, and the second arm in the process of being eaten. What the hell, Lev groaned internally.

So engrossed in taking in his surroundings was Lev that he didn't notice the man who had welcomed him in, returning from somewhere, and stopping next to Lev. "Admiring the pièce de résistance, I see," he quipped with a smirk.

Lev jumped slightly and then nodded while shrugging, "What the hell is it?"

"Not an art enthusiast, I take it? That is a recreation of the work by Francisco Goya; the original was one of several different works painted directly on the wall of his own home, with no titles or notes. The most agreed-upon name of this piece is 'Saturn devouring his son. ' Miss Bathory finds great meaning in it, hence why it is also painted onto her wall." The man explained.

"Does she see some, uh, resemblance between herself and the Saturn guy?" Lev asked sheepishly.

"I see Mr Baumann did not paint a glowing picture of Miss Bathory. I'll let you decide if what he told you is true or not. If you would follow me, she will be down to see you in a moment," the man responded before he walked over to a closed door to Lev's right and opened it.

The room Lev looked into was a parlour and quite cosier than being out in the company of Saturn mid-meal. A fire crackled gently in the central area of the room. Around the fire was a lone red settee, sat on top of an animal hide, or perhaps it was a mixture of animals. Lev didn't dare take too close a look in case he was to find a human among the creatures stitched together. One end of the room was a library, and the other held a table and chairs stationed around what was most likely a liquor or wine cabinet.

"Take a seat if you wish." The man said as he closed the door and left Lev alone in the parlour.

Lev walked over and stood by the fire to warm his hands and to see if he could spot any routes of escape apart from the door, if need be. Looks like it'll have to be an exit through the front windows if I have to get out of here in a hurry.

"I must say, it's not often I have visitors." A woman's voice spoke from the door. Lev flinched, not having heard her entrance at all.

He turned to face the blood countess, not sure what he was expecting to see; the woman before him, though, was certainly not what he would have ever imagined.

The first thing that struck him was her eyes, alluring yet glacial, like staring into the most inviting pool one could imagine, but knowing you would freeze to death if you dared enter. She was a tall, shapely woman, dressed in a robe cinched tight to ensure no more of her pale skin was revealed than need be. Her imposing demeanour and way of moving made Lev think that she wasn't hiding her body; more so, it was a privilege, a right, to be earned.

"Please, join me," she spoke as she sat down on the settee by the fire and watched Lev awkwardly join her.

"I'm told you've some information I might find interesting?" she asked, sounding unconvinced but also playful.

"Yes, uh, in regards to Kar-" Lev began, but was cut off by Anastasia's finger suddenly appearing at his lips.

"Dear me, business can wait, what's the hurry?" She said as Lev tried his best to avert his gaze from her, he wasn't entirely sure why, but he felt like looking into her eyes for too long would cast a spell on him.

"You already know my name, so it is only right that you share yours," she asked as she placed her hand on Lev's leg.

I can't tell if she's trying to seduce me or sizing me up like a cut of meat. Lev thought as he gulped and looked down at her hand, pale, smooth skin with long jade colored fingernails.

Lev was stirred from his thoughts by a playful pat on his leg, "Come now, no need to be afraid. I don't bite."

"Is that... Possible for someone like..." Lev began to ask, but shook his head and stopped himself.

Anastasia chuckled, "Like myself? A vampire, you mean? I can reveal all you desire, but first I want to know about you." This time, her request was firm and forceful.

"I'm sorry, my name is Lev Sorokin... I've only been out of prison for less than a week, still getting used to polite conversation, y'know," he said rhetorically with a woeful attempt at a smile.

"Ah, a naughty boy are you? Whatever did you do to go to prison?" Anastasia probed as her grip on Lev's leg tightened.

"I was... Accused of kidnapping my fiancé... For ten years, I sat in a cell, wondering what happened to her, and then on my first night out, I saw her in our old house, but she was... different, and then I came to learn of Vampires and that she had been turned into one." As Lev spoke of Jessica, even as vaguely as he was, he felt Anastasia's hand tense. Lev wondered, Does she know of Jessica and what happened to her already? Is she scared of what this other vampire is trying to do?.

"Sounds like quite the week you've had so far. Do continue." Anastasia said, her voice certainly showing no hint of fear or concern.

Lev finished the recount of his time since getting out of prison, and then of his 'meeting' with Karl Baumann and what he had learned. Each time he mentioned anything about Jessica, he felt Anastasia's hand tighten on his leg for a moment before relaxing again. It must be fear. He decided, which to him felt somewhat reassuring.

When Lev finished his dump of information, Anastasia exhaled, "It's been a long time since I've felt something as good as the way your heart skips a beat every time you mention Jessica's name... Even my mention of her name makes your pulse quicken for even the faintest of moments," she revealed, which dashed all of Lev's reassurance.

A shocked Lev looked at Anastasia and asked, "Y-you what?"

With a pat of his leg, Anastasia explained, "I can read your every feeling through your blood, the way it flows through your body. If you lied, I would feel it. When you think of your fiancé, I feel it in every agonisingly delicious drop."

Oh, I'm dead. Lev thought in resignation.

Anastasia laughed, seemingly feeling what Lev was thinking, "Since you've given me quite the good time already, I'll share a secret with you, so long as you promise not to tell anyone," she offered, playfully tracing a shape on Lev's leg with one finger.

Lev nodded, his wits still fried from such peaks and valleys of hope to hopelessness.

"It's been over a hundred years since I've sunk my fangs into anyone. I promise, no harm shall befall you on my grounds."

"What? How do you? Don't you need to?" Lev stammered in confusion.

"Oh, don't be fooled, that boorish moniker I've been given, ' the blood countess, ' it's grounded in some truth." Anastasia teased.

"Like the... the fountains and the pillars made of, uh, skin and bone... " Lev asked, unable to stop himself from talking.

"Oh yes, I'm still a vampire at the end of the day. I have standards, though; all my creations are sourced from those who make me their enemy or those too far taken by lust for my liking. It's a disgusting thing, lust. But I'd wager..." Anastasia stopped her tangent and, in one deft motion, uncinched her robe and let it open ever so slightly to offer a glimpse of her naked torso underneath.

Lev's eyes drank in the sight of her skin, but he eventually managed to peel them away. Anastasia groaned in delight, "I see I was right, you enjoy the tease, and if I were to disrobe and wrap... These legs around you..." Anastasia paused as she slowly peeled back the bottom of her robe to show off her long, pale, powerful-looking thighs.

Lev's eyes went where she wanted them to go, and he could feel his fear ceding in place of the very lust she was talking about. I can't...

Anastasia continued her point as she ran her fingers over her legs, teasing Lev, "If I were to do that, you'd offer no resistance, but you would feel like you were betraying her. You wouldn't be able to give all of yourself to me." When she finished talking, she tied her robe closed and placed her hand back on Lev's leg. “Ohhh, what a feeling! Such guilt for those naughty thoughts!" she teased.

And then, she was back to business as usual, while Lev was still trying to get the image of her body out of his mind, "So then, what is it you hope to gain by coming here and telling me all this?" She asked.

"I want to find a way to cure her... Or if I can't, then..." Lev couldn't bring himself to say it, the word, the thought, stuck in his throat.

Anastasia groaned in pleasure. "Oh my sweet thing, if you can't cure her, then you believe death is the next best thing? Why not let her take a..." Anastasia paused to run a finger ever so lightly across Lev’s neck. "Nibble so that you may join her? Join your goddess-to-be?" she mocked playfully. Somehow, she seemed not to be offended at Lev insinuating that death was better than being a vampire, which to him was a welcome relief.

"I've... Considered it, but from what she said, I think she views it as a curse, as something she wouldn't dare inflict on me." A saddened Lev answered, his hopes beginning to feel futile.

Anastasia took her hand from Lev's leg and placed it on his cheek, "Don't lose hope now, your little fiancé is still a long way from becoming a god. Truth be told, I've known of this plan for some time now, and the miserable cretin that turned her has no chance of gathering the 'old' blood he thinks he needs," she explained, which roused some fire back into Lev.

"Really? How?" Lev asked.

"I've met this wretch before; he is one of the lowest of the 'weak-blooded' vampires there are...." Anastasia paused as she felt something within Lev. "Come now, just because he's weak doesn't mean you can fight him and win while your dear Fiancé watches with bated breath, he is still a vampire after all. My only regret is that I don't remember his name, but he does have something to do with the place Karl mentioned to you; I can confirm that much." She continued.

"And uh, what does gathering the old blood even mean? Do you know?" Lev asked as he tried to compose himself enough to think of the information he could gather that would be useful to Ulaq.

Anastasia tutted and tapped Lev on the cheek, her hand dropping down to his leg again. "Oh dear, pressing me for information, I see. Very well, I'll play along. There are five of us remaining who are from the earliest generations of vampires. After us, there is a...gap." Anastasia stopped, pain and sorrow washing over her face. Lev blinked, thinking he was imagining it, but her pain was very much real.

Anastasia's face hardened, and she resumed what she was saying, "Myself and one other are here in this city; the other three are spread across Europe..." She trailed off before a smile crept over her lips. "Well, now that I'm thinking about it. There is potentially a sixth, and you will find him especially interesting..." Anastasia interrupted herself as someone jogged her memory.

A hopeful Lev looked at her, "Oh?" he muttered.

"There was one vampire who, from the moment he was turned, rejected his new fate and dedicated his life to trying to find a cure. He spent nearly a hundred years trying everything he could to turn himself back. As technology advanced and some new hope emerged, he would try it and be left despondent at its failure. Until he eventually realised there was something he had been avoiding trying."

"What was it?" a greatly interested Lev asked, without even realising he was staring into Anastasia's eyes, hanging on her every word.

"Bloodletting, Leeches to be precise."

Dumbfounded, Lev muttered, "W-what?"

Anastasia scowled, "Oh, please, now how does one get turned into a vampire? Why they are bitten, usually against their will, by what you humans treat as some invasive species? So even I can see the sense in someone so strongly against what happened to them, feeling great aversion to letting leeches take a drink of them," she answered.

"I'm sorry, when you put it that way... Did it work?" Lev apologised, then asked, eager, hopeful for her answer.

"I don't know, as far as I've heard, nobody does. He tried it and then disappeared. But there is a trail of stories that lead all the way to the swamps of Pripyat, where people talk of a mysterious figure who wanders the swamps with abnormal-sized leeches in tow."

While not a confirmation, something about this revelation buoyed Lev's spirits somewhat. Before he could offer much in the way of his thoughts, the man who brought him in entered the room.

"Miss Bathory, there are reports of a trespasser on the grounds," he revealed.

Anastasia's hand tightened on Lev's leg, and she groaned in delight, "Oh my, you're hoping it's her swooping in to rescue you from any potential danger. Well, if it is, do put in a good word for me, won't you?" she joked as she stood up and made her way to the door.

"I'm not dressed for rambunctious guests; I'm retiring to my chambers. Make sure Lev is not harmed on his exit." Anastasia said to the man before turning and looking at Lev.

"It's been a surprising pleasure. I do so hope I am there when you and Jessica reach the climax of your story. The elation of love ringing true or the crushing despair of heartbreak... They both taste so exquisite to me." And with that, Anastasia left.

Lev followed the man to the door, his heart racing in hopes that Jessica was out there, that his text had worked, and she was coming to ensure he was safe. When the man opened the front door though, sitting on the porch inspecting one of the skull pillars was a certain black crow.