Devotion… Loyalty… Maybe even just the bond between creator and their created could explain the need I felt to go after him to help him return home from this violent adventure he was on. Love, maybe? I stopped in my tracks, the wind whipping around me. It certainly wasn’t because of love- No by no means was it because of love. My eyes followed the sporadic scarlet drops in the white blanket of snow on the ground. Carefully I walked around the bread crumb trail that my creator was leaving, covering each spot with snow. This was the third town I had tracked him down too. Also the third time I had found his victims but not him. He was starting to get lost in the wind even with my superior tracking skills he was becoming nearly impossible for me to find. Every night I felt as if I was gaining on him, catching up to him but come dawn, I would have to find somewhere new and safe to rest. By the next nightfall his trail would be gone and my search would start all over again.
Boredom… Loneliness… Those could possibly be the reason why I was out here searching for the creature who made me. I didn’t care for the other three vampires that occupied our home. They were the ones who started this mayhem. Their need to consume blood nightly. Their unfortunate desire to have inappropriate relations with their food. I pulled my lip in disgust as I thought about how entrolled they acted. I could easily see the decline that Xanthos was taking. He had shown great restraint in limiting himself to meals only once a month. He knew of himself and the delicate balance he had to walk to keep himself from acting like an animal- an addict even. I glanced around the snow covered forest, my mouth watering from the smell of fresh blood. I closed my eyes for only a moment as I savored the smell. Tilting my chin I took in a deep breath trying to pinpoint the distance the scent carried. It had to have been at least twenty miles away. I swallowed, ignoring the burn that resided in my throat. The sensation letting me know that my days of needing my next meal was nearing. I started on the path again but then stopped when my eyes saw a limp cold corpse, back leaning against the trunk of a tree behind it. The lifeless body had its eyes closed with a smile on its face, as if it willingly welcomed death to come. “That makes number four…” I said quietly to myself. Glancing around the empty area I reached for the dead man’s arm before tossing his body onto my shoulder effortlessly. “If I wanted to be a maid, I would have stayed mortal.” I said into the freezing air. For the past two seasons I had been cleaning up after my creator during my search for him. How he left a trail of bodies only spoke to how much he was not himself.
He was walking a dangerous path. One that could and would lead humans right to him. He had been alive for centuries compared to my mere few decades of life. But in this instance age wasn't equivalent to wisdom. He was being idiotic and reckless. I tossed the body off my shoulder on top of the other three male bodies I had found throughout the night. Three towns ago I was concerned when I discovered that he was draining two bodies a night, but four? Bending down I grabbed two rocks, clicking them together until sparks emerged igniting the hay I placed under and on top of the bodies. I stood there watching the flames pick up engulfing the corpses in flames as the fire turned their skins and bones into ash.
“Concern… Maybe that’s it.” I spoke to the fire unwrapping my arms from around my frame. I took in a breath, my eyes looking over to my right, knowing that in the distance there wasn’t another town that he could escape too. Just the water. The odds were in my favor to find him but they were also against him. I knew it meant that Xanthos would be tearing through this town before he moved north. Just like he did in the last. No doubt that he was drawing unwanted attention to himself. If I was able to find him then surely anyone would be able too. A sigh came from me as I left the flames to walk back towards the town. I can only hope that the liveliness in the town of New Orleans would help lessen the attention of people going missing. I ran my hand over my thighs checking to make sure that both of my draggers were still hidden underneath the folded fabric of my skirt. The closer I came to the town the more I was able to make out the figures that I could see from behind the trees. My brown eyes studied each person that passed me on the street. Watching women walk by, attached to mens arms in their dresses with their hair styled dramatically on top of their heads. I reached my hand up touching the boring down style my hair was always in. How odd for me to be worried about my appearance around mortals as if that would give me away instead of the paleness of my skin. I only have a few more hours left before dawn brought a halt to my search. “Might as well find a place to stay while I’m here.” I mumbled to myself as I walked along the living.
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Her dry gaze peeled off the morning newspaper in her hands to bid the last patron leaving adieu. She glanced around the empty art gallery, the words from the paper obscuring her view as they were temporarily burned into her retinas from staring at it for far too long. She closed up shop by closing the shutters that covered the storefront and the glass of the front door and then swept before gently kneeling to wrap what paintings needed delivery. With a huff, she ascended the stairs to her home which sat atop the art gallery taking a moment to catch her breath as a faint pained groan wisped through her clenched teeth and gently pressed her hand against her abdomen. Freeing herself of the damned corset and dress attached to it, she changed. Madeline was not androgynous but if she kept the brim of her bowler hat low to her brow and the collar of her overcoat popped she blended in well enough with the other teenage boys doing odd jobs on the street. No one paid attention if you followed the flow and blended in and thus far she had managed to do just that and no one was the wiser, which in the end saved her.
They would burn me as a witch if I were caught cross-dressing as they wanted any excuse with all the wretched rumours that surrounded my father and me. As a man, however, he could survive with less caution than me, barely retaining a soiled reputation while they lit my pyre for the same things. I clicked my tongue and pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind as my tip-less gloved hands grabbed the wrapped paintings as I headed out to make my deliveries. A wicked chill slithered down my spine and danced up against my exposed skin. The unfamiliar cold air coupled with the stereotypical morning fog gave an eerie rawness to the cobblestone streets as I walked. I seized in my tracks to brush away what just landed on my face right beneath my left eye before looking at my fingertips. A snowflake!? It seldom snows if ever in N'awlens and the locals would take this as a bad omen and I was one of them, bringing the missing person article I read this morning back to mind. With the empty streets now explained I finished off my deliveries and started my newspaper route after picking up my stack for the day. Wincing and setting the stack back down from a sudden sharp pain before trying again more successfully this time. I enjoyed my route as it was the most scenic of them allowing me to covertly search for signs of struggle from the last missing person. If there was one thing that I could rely on when it came to The Banshees it was that they were not subtle.
They wanted people to know of the horrors they had caused, thus ensuing panic. Etching fear into everyone throughout every quarter of New Orleans in the hopes the terror of what might become of them would isolate at least one person from public view. And then the shrill scream would bloom and wither the poor fool who fell for their mind games, the Matron was clever. The reminder of that made Madeline hiss and grit her teeth in a short burst of pain as she turned a corner. Her momentary distraction caused the harsh but quick collision of her shoulder against another woman. Adding to her pain she hid behind a clenched jaw as her water-toned eyes locked with Ramona's opaque ones. Revealing for that second the young boy cutting around the corner with haste was actually a woman. Madeline was quick to look away and drop her chin which allowed the brim of her bowler to hide her face. “My apologies Madam. A paper free of charge for the disturbance.” Then into the shadows, Madeline vanished.
The bitter chill began to bite and having never experienced this level of cold here before I was heavily unprepared. I dashed to the nearest place where I knew I could escape the cold in. The rustic gold bell clattering abruptly to alert the owners of my unintentionally dramatic arrival. I winced once more, forgetting for a moment I should not have moved the way I did. The two pairs of eyes landed on me as I hung my overcoat and hat on the hooks near the door. The couple's now-soiled moment seemed to not bother the two as they welcomed me in. The woman rose and came over to greet me as guilt rooted its way into my gut. She brushed my cheek where I had before ‘Snow!?’ Her bewildered expression lifted from her fingertips, then me, then her husband. Nothing more was said between them as she ushered me towards the lounge near the fire. I sat slowly, careful not to alert them that something was wrong with me. I took a deep breath as I relaxed on the couch, my eyes opening to see a hot cup carefully held by the man's slender fingers as he pushed it in my hands without giving me much choice. I chuckled at the action as the liquid's sweet aroma wafted up at me. Hot chocolate? Such a rare delicacy! My head shot up to look at the man to offer my thanks and again another chuckle escaped as I thanked him because I was met with the typical sight of smoke spewing from his sweet-smelling cigar and lightly painting over his face. However, I froze in the next second once his slender fingers found evidence of a bandage peeking from the sleeve of my shirt. ‘What happened?’ It was the first time in the years I had known this couple I heard his voice.
Madeline debated on how to answer and if she even should when the bell for the inn rang again, giving her time. In all the years she had known them she did not know their names, they never gave them even when asked but she had her suspicions. Their behaviour, demeanour, and look all convinced her of who they were. She watched the man grumble to himself knowing now there was no way in hell she would answer his question with the new guest who had entered. He sat on the opposite couch right across from Madeline and sipped his glass of rum as he stared at her as if to tell her their conversation was far from over. Which warranted a snort from Madeline who stubbornly stared back as she sipped the hot chocolate. Maman Brigitte greeted Ramona as she entered with a warm smile “Here for a room or to just hide from the cold a moment?” She asked but already seemed to know the answer as she strolled behind the reception and produced their guest book. Scribbling on a fresh page before asking Ramona for her signature. Silently, Baron Samedi rose, giving Madeline one last pointed look before joining his wife behind the desk warranting another snort from the young lady. He grabbed a set of keys off the wall “Allow him to just heat the room for you. The colds foreign to us around here.” Maman gave another smile as she ushered Ramona into the lounge where Madeline sat. “If you would like or need anything just say so.” Her emphasis on certain words could indicate that maybe she knew her newest patron was not human but left it vague.
Death. It grabbed my spine and sang in my ear. I did not notice how it followed this woman earlier when I bumped into her on the street given the circumstances. I had no enhanced senses or the skill to identify species but I was… close friends with death you could say and could recognize it on anyone. It is why I figured the couple who ran this Inn were two important gods of Voodoo, dealing in life and death much like how I was supposed to. I kept my thoughts and feelings hidden and away from my face. Drinking the hot chocolate and keeping the heated mug close to my chest to help keep me warm. The man returned and immediately returned to staring as he sat once again, and with a laugh his wife lightly slapped his arm.’Leave her alone!’ We both chuckled as he sucked his teeth and crossed his arms over his chest but I knew this topic was far from over. “Seems you brought the cold front with you. Where are you from?” my French soaked Southern accent steeped each of my words as I gave a faint smile to show the harmlessness of the question.
Hm. I let the subtle noise come out of my mouth as I followed the stone paved path. My eyes taking in the people and the atmosphere of the town. There was something different about it. Something that lingered in the air and on the backs of the mortals that resided in it. The liveliness of it alone was entirely different from the ones that I was used to exploring- hunting. The towns I was familiar with were all the same; the humans walked around with a sense of naivety. Unknown to the true horrors and nightmares that walked alongside them. Over the decades I believed that they all were- A quiet breath left me breaking me out of my train of thought. The hairs on the back of my neck raised, my heart squeezing as if it was captured in a fist and I stilled in my tracks for only a mere moment. "You are here..."I whispered out, acknowledging the summoning, the completeness, my sire bond telling me that I was closer to him than I had been in months… After all these years I would have expected that annoying sire bond to die but it was even more stubborn than the creature who breathed life into me after death. My left shoulder twitched as if I had slammed it into something but the frame remained unmoved. A poor act of my body trying to play human.
"My apologies Madam-" My eyes darted down to the voice before my mind even registered the hit. Looking down I saw a small body hunched over as if they had run into a wall. My mouth watered and the uncomfortable burn ignited in my throat as the delicious scent of blood filled my lunges. I watched as sea like eyes met mine, I flicked my gaze down to the boys torso pinpointing the location of injury they suffered. My gaze narrowed slightly while I reached out to take the paper I was offered. "You're hur-" I started but held my tongue fighting my human nature to help heal the individual I had just come across. "Thank you." I said instead before they left my presence. My brown eyes widened reading the first two words in the headlining title on the paper. Countless Missing... "Shit." I said, tearing my eyes away from the fragile paper in my hands. The town was already aware of the ones that had met their brutal fate. How long had he been here? No, the better question was where was he leaving the bodies. He usually likes to leave them scattered in the woods in his preferred hunting grounds. The more I read the more concerned I became that some of the bodies were found in the allies instead. He was in fact getting reckless and I had gotten here a day or two too late to cover that up for him. As fast as guilt placed its hands on me, concern replaced it instantly. Quickly I looked around the area expecting to see the people in a panic state ready to track down whoever and whatever was the case of this tragedy but to my surprise that was not the case. Yes, they moved with more of a haste than they did when I first arrived but from listening to their friendly conversations they shouted to each other, they were more concerned about the weather than they were about the missing residents.
"Get a move on, girl." A voice told me. "Find where ya going before ya freeze to death or be added to the numbers in the paper." He continued. I tilted my head at his words analyzing his deep leathered skin and the wrinkles around his eyes. I turned on my heel following the direction of the crowd. The man's words interested me more than anything. How nonchalant he was about the deaths and the missing persons. Hm, I let out once more. There was indeed something different about this town. Lifting my right hand up, I rubbed my thumb to my index and middle finger. Feeling the invisible residue in the atmosphere. Death was in the air and no one seemed to care. I walked past several Inns all of which seemed too proper with walls as thin as paper. Feeling the ache in my throat I knew I would have to give in and put out the flames that lived within me. I unfortunately wouldn’t be able to allow myself to have a proper meal while I was here. Xanthos was causing enough death for the both of us. “Rabbit it is.” I sighed. A certain ominous familiar feeling reached out to me. I stopped walking once I was even with the door to the gothic Inn. Walking inside immediately I felt as if I had just entered the home of a loved one. Meeting the gaze of the women I greeted her with a tight lip smile, keeping my fangs hidden behind my lips. “A room, please.” I said. As I grew closer to the front desk that same sweet scent from earlier invaded my nose cutting through the smoke like a knife. Glancing out of the side of my eye I looked over to the couch in the lounge to find the same- woman? I took the pen, choosing to sign Ramona Xanthos, my actual name, into the book. “That is appreciated.” I said following the woman into the lounge. I picked up on the intent behind her words while the feeling of ease crept around me like a warm blanket “Thank you.” I added. I wouldn’t be so naive to ask for a meal so soon after arriving. Even if I needed it.
Curiosity hit me as I watched the three interact with one another. The only being I had been truly friendly with was Xanthos, in our formal own way. But the disgusting creatures he allowed in our home did not deserve such affection from me. I’d rather greet them with teeth than I did with a laugh. “Yes, it does appear I did.” I responded. I allowed myself to study the person who spoke to me, not once but twice today. “I suppose my home up north missed me and decided to follow.” I said, allowing a shy smile to appear on my lips. I breathed in her scent once more, noticing the bandage on her arm. “An infection will start to fester if you keep it bandaged.” I said dryly before I could stray myself to engage in another form of conversation. “I used to be a nurse back home,” I lied covering up for my previous remark, as I looked away. My inner battle to heal over kill waged inside of my head. I took in a breath putting that war aside just like I always did to get me through the days. “What’s that saying about old habits?” I shared.
A humm mindlessly mused from Madeline as her thumb brushed across the cuff of her shirt where the bandage could still be seen. “I suppose you are right.” Ramona's words made her think, when was the last time she was sick? When she felt that fever chill, cold sweat, uncontrollable shiver, It had been far too long to be normal. “However, I was not stitched up well so without them I would bleed through every shirt I own.” A partial lie and partial truth as she was not stitched up at all for the ichor in her blood was far too dangerous in the wrong hands. As it was she already feared she had altered the men who helped her that dreaded day but was too afraid to check back in with them. She rose slowly “But I am due for a bandage change.” Brigitte gave a soft nod with a smile “All you need is in the same spot as last time hun.” Madeline gave a curt nod and smile that never reached her eyes as she excused herself towards the kitchen. Leaving the New Orleans deities alone with their guest for the first time. Samedi continued to brood with his rum and cigar while Brigitte turned towards Ramona. “Now, I will not have it be said I was a bad host. Tell me what you need for food or drink.”
Through the kitchen in a little hidden backroom was their apothecary. With the door shut behind me, I could not hear or see them any longer which meant the same for them. I should have asked for help but no, I was too frightened from all the what-ifs bubbling in my brewing mind. So instead I framed my fear as modesty and shyness when neither were the truth of the matter. She had me trained and that very thought stilled me, had she achieved her first goal? Had you broken me? My heart palpitated at the nerve-wracking thought and suddenly I felt very closed in and needed to escape. Luckily I was done with cleaning and re-bandaging my wounds so I could step out of the small space and back into the kitchen. I had to be meticulous and think cynically to be sure none of my blood dripped on the floor or smeared against the surface of something nearby. Everything needed to be contained, which meant my old bandages needed to be destroyed, the fireplace in the kitchen was burning bright to help regulate the heat through the inn. Tossing them there I watched them burn to an absolute crisp and remained until the ashes of my old bandages turned from black to white. I was not completely satisfied but it would do as I knew it was just the cynicism of my mind at work and digging up the worst possible outcome.
A wicked whisper wisped down Madeline's spine as she reentered quietly to not disturb any ongoing conversations. However, she stopped walking suddenly as her glower found the nearest window and stared out into nothing but the snow which now fell. Any other person might have blamed the fact that it was snowing in New Orleans for the first time for their instantly tense and odd behaviour but Madeline instead said nothing at all as she slowly scanned the inn. Intensely scouring the darkest corners while any words and calls of her name were drowned out by the haunting of some distant dissonance only she could hear. Her intense bright gaze landed on where she had just come and not two seconds later did a scream beckon forth. “That would be the kettle. We will need a lot of hot water to help fight the cold.” Brigitte offered her words almost as if she wanted to soothe Madeline's curious behaviour and though she gave a curt nod or two to the woman's words her instincts were not content. So as Brigitte excused herself to stop the kettles shouting Madeline's eyes landed back on that window.
‘Depouis quand est-ce que té compter sul tchouweié et la vion pour trouve les réponses que t'apercus-ci clairement jeune un? ça, ç'est... pas comme toi.’ The heaviness of his voice grounded me completely as a warm breath escaped my nose and loosened my muscles as it left. “A new habit I will have to kill before it gets old fast.” Lazily I picked the warm mug given to me earlier, up and hugged it to my chest as I sat. Like a child hugging a teddy bear close hoping for comfort, I held this mug. After another heavy breath I felt more at ease and back to myself again, she had not won. I was not too broken; I could still be fixed, just a shattered window with its glass needing to be stained. “You should not kill that habit of yours.” I break my trance to look this woman in the eyes. “The will to care for others disappears as the world goes on. Soon the two of us might be the only two left willing to look out for others.” A soft smirk turned the edges of my lips upwards. “Madeline (Mad-a-line).” I extend my hand to hers. “I am a local if you need any guiding or info of the land.”
I stared at the woman studying her face and the sincerity in her voice. Pondering on if I would actually tell this woman what I was craving- what I needed to keep the monster inside of me at bay. Or if I would lie just like I did when visiting the bars and brothels, hunting for our next meal. ‘Always appear human when in mixed company,’ My sire would always tell me. Pressing my lips into a line I breathed in a breath out of habit. “Rabbit, if you have it.” I spoke. “Alive.” I quickly added then waited for the woman to look appalled or even frightened. As she had just looked into the face of death. “I shall only be staying for a day or two if I’m lucky.” I didn’t have any other choice but to find him that soon. The problem he was creating was far beyond my ability to control and cover up. If he got anymore out of hand, half of this town will be slaughtered and the other half would be hunting him. In the drunken state that I was sure he was in by now he wouldn’t be able to fight off a mob. Xanthos would be ungodly strong but his reflexes would be slower, his mind clouded. If they were to charge at him at once…
Thump thump! Thump thump! Thump thump!
My eyes found their way to the door that the blue eyed woman disappeared behind. The growing rapid sound of her heart bringing me out of the downward spiral my mind was taking. She was frightened- a sound I knew well. I could imagine how her veins looked under her skin- plump and visible with that much blood pushing through them. Quickly I glided my tongue over my teeth making sure that my fangs were still hidden. I had already given myself away? Panic picked at the back of my neck. I thought I was being careful. Did I let the oddly comforting atmosphere of this Inn bring down the walls of camouflage I built? I made sure that my face didn’t show even a glimpse of worry as my mind combed through every second of interaction I had with the three.“If not, I will be just fine.” I said without skipping a beat.
My brown gaze flicked to the door once more when she emerged from the wooden divider. Her heart had steadied in the slightest by now but I was still on edge. My mind already planning my escape should I need it. I would have take the man out in no more than two heartbeats before I moved onto the older woman in one beat and then her next. She would be likely to call for help... Five heartbeats. That's all it would take to have their blood seeping into the floor by my hands. My stomach twisted just like it always did when I planned out my killings. I swallowed closing the door on that empathic part of myself. I allowed my body to seem relaxed as I leaned my shoulder against the nearby wall, crossing one ankle over the either. But I was furthest from relaxed. I was hyper aware and I noticed every little tense movement that the three beings in front of me gave. They were all odd and hard to read, they had a story that I couldn’t quite put my finger on just yet. I sucked in a breath hearing the scream come from the other room. Xanthos- the thought went as fast as it came. No, that wasn’t a human cry. There wasn’t enough helplessness behind it to have been human.
The corner of my lip tugged into a smile hearing the older woman's words. French, I thought to myself hearing the man speak for the second time since I had been in their company. Glancing around the room I tried to appear to look curious or even awkward. Looking around the room trying to find something to conversate about or even to get myself familiar with my surroundings- all human tendencies. I was laying it on thick but Xanthos left little to no room for another monster in the town. The muscles in my shoulder relaxed just a tad hearing the younger woman's heart start to find its normal steady pace.
I followed the sound of her voice, my gaze finding her blue ones as if I hadn’t just been studying her without looking at her. A smirk found its way to my face before I killed it. How ironic for her to say that to me. My care for others died more and more as the years went on- or maybe I was the one that was trying to smother that side of me. Pushing myself from the wall to close the gap between us when I saw her hand. I took her into my cool pale grasp giving her flesh a gentle squeeze. “Ramona.” I replied. I retreated back to my place on the wall. Putting a safe distance between us just in case this didn't go as planned. A local could be of use to find the hole that my creator is calling his den. “I might just take you up on that offer.” I said softly, reaching behind me. I pulled out the rolled up newspaper that I had tucked into my waistband. “It would seem I came into town during a dangerous time.” I made sure my voice gave nothing besides a tone of shock.
A cynical chill did so ever run down her spine and it was not due to the coldness of Ramona's hand, it was because she was standing. An odd choice to be sure from Madeline's perspective but of course, she would not bring it up if it was not her place. Brigitte returned in time to hear Ramona's inquiry which caught everyone's attention as they all seemed to look upon her with a curious and amused gaze. Madeline however was the first to avoid being rude as that look dissolved into something very warm and kind, confusingly loving even since they were strangers. “N'awlens is always dangerous I am afraid. With that danger haunting every dark corner and spreading out into the light.” Her voice soothed through the air, combating the sharp meaning of her words. Like a smooth rum going down easily only to burn later.
‘Your meal is waiting for you in your room exactly as ordered my dear.’ Brigitte gently cut in almost cryptically as she handed Ramona her room key. A silent message to be sure and one I was not meant to be privy to, which was fine by me. Everyone had a right to their privacy and seeing as they had all just given me some I was not about to pry. “I believe that is my cue then.” I finished my hot chocolate and stood. “ The snow took the sun as it fell so I best get home before it gets any darker and colder. I will be back in the marrow however if you still need a guide.” My words are accompanied by a curt nod and kind smile as I put my coat and hat back on as carefully as can be. Giving everyone a proper and genuine adieu before taking a moment to brace for the cold in anticipation of it overtaking my bones as I hurried home.
The snow topped empty cobblestone streets caused Madeline's hurried steps to stop. Her aquamarine gaze took in the quiet streets for the first time in her life. She squinted to peer through the blanket of snow still falling from the sky and now building on her shoulders and hat. A violent and wicked chill curled up and around her spine so suddenly and it was not from the bizarre empty streets.
Oh no. No, she knew this fearful feeling all too well as a knot formed and lodged itself in her throat and tears burned her eyes. Her warm breath whipped the cold air visably as her breathing grew frantic and her heart beat in her chest wildly. “Traveling alone at a time like thisss my dear.” Her words slither out and wrap around the already petrified Madeline holding her still. Out from the mist like falling snow at Madeline's backcthe wicked woman appeared leaning over to find her ear. “Now what type of grandmother would I be letting you travel home with a killer about?” The rhetorical question was coupled with the woman placing her slender clawlike digits on Madeline's shoulder who dropped her head and disappeared with the woman into the snow.
The blank stare I give myself in the mirror is one of hate and anger. I promised myself things would be different now but I was still trapped by her and everything fell right back into more of the same. The only difference is it hurt more now that I actually spoke. Or tried to fight back; my hateful tears burn the gash on my busted lip as I hiss in frustration and with nothing in the house to clean it I'm forced to ask for help. I dressed as a woman should today and rushed to the inn managing to keep my lip hidden and pressed to a handkerchief. The bell rings as it always did and the couple's eyes met mine with confusion as I hesitate. With a breath and sigh of defeat, I drop my hand to reveal my lip. My eyes drop to the floor in anticipation of being considered a burden or met with disappointment. Instead, the woman gently approached almost to avoid scaring me, and took my hand leading me to the apothecary room.
A faint groan hissed through the kitchen as Brigitte stitched Madeline's lip. Leaving the door open to get some extra light to not damage the young one's face. “Good Marrow Ramona.” Brigitte says cheerful without ever looking. “I hate to ask but Marie Laveau knows my husband is far too rough for the delicate touch needed.” She stepped to the side to reveal Madeline heavily breathing through the pain and how she was tying up the stitch as she spoke. “I need someone to cut the stitch, close to the knot and without cutting her, think you can?”
“I wouldn’t have thought that by how lively the street was.” I said to the room. Good, I thought to herself. Maybe I’m not too late to get him out before he causes anymore harm. I continued as I studied the expressions of the three in the room. They looked as if the disappearances were a normal part of their day to day life. How odd for humans to be so comfortable with such horrors. I was proving myself right by thinking that death hung in the air here. It was becoming apparent that it clung to every particle, surrounding all who lived in this city. It had been many years since I had been around any mortals who were placid with their town getting slaughtered. Since I was a human- the memory of my town priest offering a person a week for slaughter to keep the monster at bay. One by one he picked them… If I closed my eyes I could still hear their screams in the distance as they met their deaths. How ironic that years later I would be the cause of such similar screams. Lost in my past I welcomed the words that came from the older woman.
“Ah yes, thank you.” I said quietly, swallowing the burn that resided in my throat, my hand taking the room key into its grasp. I was still in shock that the innkeeper didn’t even bat an eye at what must have been an odd request. My dark colored eyes followed Madeline while she moved through the room. “Yes, that would be helpful.” I spoke louder this time to fill the space she was creating between us. I still hadn’t come up with a proper cover story for my visit. I would have come up with one by myself for a change. And I'll have to do it before the morning. Before they had time to question me any further. Where was Xanthos when I needed him? I let a sigh escape me at the thought. Xanthos was more theatrical than I was. He always enjoyed coming up with stories- lies for me to tell my prey. Something to make it easier for them to trust me. Something that would help them leave their lives behind to follow into the woods. I might as well have been a puppet that he dressed and gave lines too. Oddly enough I missed that about him. “I think I’ll turn in for the night,” I said, giving them a false yawn. “Thank you, again.” The words automatically came out.
Upon opening the door to the room that I was given, to my surprise there was in fact find a white rabbit in a cage. “How strange indeed.” I mumbled to herself. I truly half expected there to be a doll waiting for me rather than the actual animal. The corner of my lip pointed into a smirk as I closed the door behind me. I made quick work with the rabbit; stroking its fur while giving it the promise that everything would be alright, just like I did with my human meals. I didn’t want to prolong its suffering. I had heard my fair share of screams in my life, I didn’t want to continue to add the pitches of the gut wrenching cadence to my inner monologue. The look of disgust made its way to my face as if I had just sucked a juicy lemon. I hated dining on rabbits for this reason and this reason only- the hair. Wiping the back of my hand over my mouth until I couldn’t feel the prickling from fur on my skin. Making my way to the window, I spared no time pushing it open and disappearing through it. My feet silently sticking the landing from my leap out of the inn. I spent hours roaming the streets, sticking to the shadows just like he taught me. Just for me to come up empty handed once again. A frustrated sigh left me. I was growing tired of finding the bodies he was leaving instead of finding him; Covering the blood off the pavement, dragging the bodies to the woods to burn them. All for what? “He probably won’t even thank me if I did find him.” I spoke into the fire.
The moment I stepped back into the Inn that same sweet delicious smell of blood flooded my nose. I stopped to look in the mirror, cleaning the ash and dry blood off my face before I made my descent down the stairs to the main lobby. Madeline had to be here, there wasn’t a scent that matched hers. At least not one that I had the pleasure of coming so close too. Once I was even with the door my ears twitched hearing Brigitte's greeting. My eyes narrowed only slightly, wondering how she was able to sense me so easily. I usually had to make an effort to make footsteps while I walked. Naturally I was light footed dancing without a sound, avoiding making any creeks or thuds when I stepped. This morning wasn’t any different. I couldn’t recall making one sound. Not even when I pulled the door closed. “Marrow…” I replied, seeing Bridgett’s back to me. She was obviously fully preoccupied with…Madeline? The door to my own empathy blew wide open causing my body to walk through the doorway to step in and help any way that I could. I nodded my head as if she could see.
“Of course.” I answered immediately, thankful that I was brave enough to ask for a proper meal the night before. My eyes looked her body over, accessing her wounds, looking for bite marks in any form. Surely she couldn’t have been attacked by Xanthos. She wouldn’t have been able to stand if she had. Unless she was his final meal of the night. No, I pushed that thought from my head. I had roamed the streets all night, trying to find where he was hiding. I would have known if he attacked anyone else in the city besides the two bodies that I had found and already burned. Stepping next to Brigitte, I took the scissors off the counter. With my index finger I gently tilted her head up making sure not to cause any major pain as I studied the stitch. It was good work to come from an innkeeper. “What happened?” I questioned as if we were old childhood friends but I was asking for my own selfish reasons. Lifting the scissors I only used the tip of the blades to nick the tread at the knot. “You’re quite good at that Brigitte” I complimented her. "Keep it clean and it should heal enough in a weeks time for the stitches to come out"
She swore she was numb to pain, she hoped she was numb to pain. Maybe this hurt because one's lips were a more sensitive part of the body highly prone to inflammation and infection than other body parts. Which did not explain the pain in her torso with the fractures, bruises, and wounds she had there. Madeline surmised it had to be the severity of the… accident… that caused her to feel such pain. Her hands gripped the edge of the table she sat on and her knuckles turned white. She wanted to believe that after everything she had grown immune to pain but at this moment she had to accept she was in fact prone to it. Madeline's heart was already racing from having to ask for help but now it pounded so hard you could see it bang against the corset of her dress. She had never injured her face before, not like this and the one who had done this seemed remorseful over the misfortune of events. Brigitte's calming voice attempted to penetrate through Madeline's white knuckling in the hope she would relax a bit as she worked. Especially since Madeline had declined her offer to drink to help with the pain.
Hearing Ramona's name and voice made my heart thrash in my chest harder and hit my ribs that were still healing. The chaotic beat my heart produced flooded all my senses and became all I could hear or focus on and I suddenly felt as though I was now white knuckling through remaining conscious against the collective pain coursing through my frame. I could not pass out! I needed to remain conscious because though I had a vague idea that the icor hidden in my blood would likely not affect Brigitte I had no clue how it might affect Ramona; if any got on her that is. I squirmed as both women examined me closely, this was too much attention, and now I was inconveniencing yet another person. Now that the stitching was actually done I could try and calm my breathing and in turn, I hope my heart but I grimaced as all my wounds older and newer felt like they were burning. I clenched my eyes and inhaled a pained hiss when Ramona's words pierced through the commanding sound of my heart. Her voice was cold, just as cold as her hand on my skin and I could not decide if that was pleasant or not but right now it helped. It helped ease that burn for whatever reason.
Madeline did not fight when Ramona tilted her chin up but her eyes keenly watched Brigitte when the woman moved away. Distinctly watching how she handled everything that had her blood on it, by burning it. “I am quite clumsy.” Her attention might have been on the other woman but she was still fully aware of every move Ramona made, she was still far too close for her liking at the moment after all. She also knew to wait until the tread was cut to dare move her lips to answer. “I tripped. Caught my lip on the edge of a frame I was putting a painting in.” This was not a lie, Madeline was not good at lying. Unless circumstances worked in her favour and made the lie told believable, so she always spoke the truth as she knew it but that did not mean she needed to go into depth with the details. She redacted the cause of her fall from her explanation but if anyone were to touch the right side of her face the hidden cloak would be revealed as she would hiss and flinch in fear of pain, exposing the invisible bruise on her face from a slap which sent her tumbling. “I have not always been an Innkeeper.” The innkeeper chucked with slickness in her tone and a sly look in her gaze. Madeline was still breathing hard, she was in great pain but she was calmer now and as Ramona turned and moved away to address Brigitte Madeline grabbed her hand. She was very gentle naturally and her soft warm hand was in contrast to how cold Ramona's was.
I was checking for my blood, I just could not risk even a drop touching her. Or anyone, so I caught and grasped the hand she used to touch my face. Subtly checking it with a quickness before our eyes seem to land on each other's at the same time. “Thank you.” I make it seem like that is why I grab her hand as I wrap my hands around hers before letting it slip from my soft hold. Gently I come down from the table the innkeeper sat me upon and groan faintly from the slight pain in my abdomen. “I am terrible at asking for help.” Brigitte snorted at my words and I looked away from them both, instead studying the ashes of what had been tossed in the fire earlier. I pressed my hand to my rib where the stitches are and breathed deep as I at last caught my breath. Again the innkeeper offers me a drink but I must turn her down as I need all my wits about me presently but I am sure to thank her kindly. “We should go if we still mean to tour the town.” I head to the coat rack near the front door to retrieve my hooded cloak. “I will have to let the town speak for itself for the most part I am afraid.” I truthfully jest because I knew the more I spoke the worst it would be for these fresh stitches on my lip.
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