The House on Blackstone Moor (The Blackstone Vampires) (27 page)

BOOK: The House on Blackstone Moor (The Blackstone Vampires)
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Marta and I were without protection now. We were purely at the hands of two devils—one human, the other inhuman.

Chapter 32

It started with the vampiric creatures, Eco’s children
, the monsters of Eco’s own conjuring, for suddenly they began to swarm us.

“They are going to kill us!” Marta screamed but just then Eco ordered them to attack the two drunken women instead.

“There, my loves. You may feast!”

Bannion laughed the whole time. He could not have cared less.

The creatures landed on the women. They bit and chewed and feasted loudly on their flesh and blood.

The women shrieked and screamed in agony, a horrible sight to behold. As Marta and I clung to each other, cruel and powerful hands tore us apart and we were dragged to the parlor, both of us, kicking and screaming.

Naturally it did no good, for both of the monsters were laughing at us. Bannion’s laughter rang in my ears as did Eco’s.

Eco tore Marta’s clothes off. Every time she cried and screamed he hit her, clawed her face and her body—told her to enjoy his love making as so many creatures had before.

I thought she had fainted for she no longer cried out, but that didn’t stop him from his brutal assault.

Bannion looked thrilled by the horrible spectacle. Then suddenly he cried, “It’s my turn now!”

I opened my mouth to cry out, but he slapped his hand over it. His breath stunk of liquor. I watched his lips move as they told me the filthiest things, things he had done to me and things he would do.

I fought hard but of course it was hopeless. He had by this time taken his hand from my mouth, so I was able to cry out—but my cries had become weak. “Please…”

“Oh yes!” he cried tore my clothes from me so that I lay naked beneath him.

How rough and savage were his thrusts, how pain-filled was each moment of this horror. So much darkness falling upon me once again, the much longed for darkness I have always sought for escape.

Mercifully, I did pass out.  But if I enjoyed a temporary reprieve that soon changed as I woke to feeling a different sort of pain, pain I could never imagine, the agony of vampiric teeth upon me!

I opened my eyes and beheld those hideous beasts that Eco brought actually feeding on me for I had been turned over to
them.

Their claws and razor sharp fangs sank into my flesh, scissored it apart—and then I heard the awful sucking noises as they noisily fed, the horrid slurping and sounds of satisfaction and me screaming and crying in terror and in pain

That pain tearing me apart—pulling me back into oblivion.

But blackness didn’t last long for I became aware of Louis’s voice. “Get off of her!” He was back.

But it was not easy to disengage these demons, for it felt as though they could never be removed from my body. Each time Louis tried to get them off, I felt I would be torn asunder.

“I do not want to hurt you.” He was trying to disengage them without causing me pain, but it was impossible.

I understood and tried to brace myself. “Do it!” I cried. “Just get them off me!”

Hot white agonizing pain as I had never known tore through my person and I screamed so much as if that would dull the horror of being ripped to pieces.

When I next looked up I saw my naked and bleeding body for Louis had indeed pulled them off of me.

“Die, you monsters!”

He reduced the vermin to scattered pieces of blood and innards with his bare hands. It was carnage as I never imagined.

Bannion was next, and Louis’ punishment meted out to him was so blood-curdling and horrific that I was lost to the world for some time.

Thinking back I realize that Eco was there too—letting him do this! That is what I did not understand then, though I would in time.

Finally Eco cried out, “Now we shall do battle!”

Louis glared at him. “Why did you not protect your friend or your children?”

Eco snorted. “I was weary of him.” He nodded toward his children. “And as for them, I can always get more. I did enjoy the battle actually. Although now it is time for us to fight, wouldn’t you say?”

Before Eco made a move, Louis turned to me and Maria. “Go! Leave here, both of you.”

How could he expect us to leave now? Eco smiled a bored smile as though he didn’t care if we left.

I felt paralyzed. I couldn’t go. Eco attacked, leaving Louis no choice but to fight.

They struck at each other madly, fiercely. I vaguely heard Marta call to me to avert my eyes, but I could not look away.

I felt hands wrapping a coat around me. “Here, put this on.” It was Marta who covered my nakedness. “We will go now, listen to Louis.” She tried to lead me away, but I would not move.

“No! No!” I cried. “I cannot leave!”

I didn’t want to leave my love, but Marta insisted. At last I let myself be led from the room.

I remember thinking at one point I was dreaming—that this whole thing wasn’t real. And it was comforting and I began to relax but Marta’s voice kept cutting into my dream. “Come on Rose, please!”

She dragged me away for I could not walk.

We found them in the hall. The two mutilated corpses of those women. All that remained of them were bloody pieces of flesh and bone scattered about!

“Never mind about that now,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Walk!”

I tried but she had to half carry me out into the courtyard. I heard the sound of my feet upon the gravel and then I heard something open.

“Step up, Rose. Step up!”

But what was I to step into?

And then I saw it. There before my weary eyes was a carriage.  I know now it was Bannion’s own carriage.

I climbed inside.

“Sit here. I shall have to drive.”

She climbed out and I tried to look at the house once more—but the carriage lurched forward and I was thrown back.

I felt so many emotions at once—pain, sadness, terror but then mercifully I was lulled to sleep by the motion of the carriage, the steady rumble of the horses’ hooves and Marta’s voice shouting, “Faster! Faster, you beasts!”

Truly, I am not certain if I was sleeping or if I was unconscious as I didn’t even feel the carriage stop. I only remember hearing the muted sounds of a violin and Marta’s voice telling me we were safe. “Look, Rose.”

I peered out to find we had arrived at an encampment of gypsies.

“We are here. Come, I will help you out.” I leaned heavily on her. But there were others to help as well. A crowd of her own people had come to aid us. They spoke words I could not understand but their voices were as kind as their manner and I was comforted.

“Not much farther,” I heard Marta say.

“I will try.” And I did try though each step was pain-filled.

Then a friendly face peered into mine, the face of an old woman who I learned later was the elder Marta had spoken of. She had a sweet-face with brown wrinkled skin and eyes like black beans. “Come child, you will rest here.”

Her heavily accented English gladdened my heart and I thanked her.

She was tiny and stooped and she bade us to follow her.

“She will help us both. She knows much, Rose—all things that doctors know. Do not fear.”

I nodded and followed along, a guest among the gypsies.

“We will stay with her so she can tend our wounds,” Marta said.

I think the cool night air helped sharpen my wits and I began to notice things more clearly, like the many gaily painted wagons.

The old woman stepped into one. “Here, child,” she said, reaching toward me.

Somehow she and Marta managed to pull me inside. I noticed the smells before anything else, the aroma of spices and other unfamiliar things, exotic but pleasant- smelling things.

“You must sit down.”

Truly, I had no idea where I would sit for the place was cluttered beyond description with fabric and pillows and baskets and more baskets. 

“Over here.” The woman indicated a chaise of some sort from which several kittens obligingly took their leave.

She turned up the lamp then. “You must rest here, both you and Marta, for you will need medicines and care.”

She was gentle, this old woman, and her manner so sweet and caring that my eyes filled with tears. “Thank you.”

Marta insisted I be cared for first and so I was. I watched the old woman’s face as she tended me. And when she removed the shawl to see what was needed, I saw the look of horror on her face. “Draci munca!”

Marta would tell me later it meant
Devil’s work
.

She dressed my wounds with some horrid smelling stuff that she had to first carefully prepare.

After my wounds were tended I was given some spirits to help me sleep, and sleep I did for I could no longer keep my eyes open.

*

I was hurt, we both were. Yes, the old woman treated our wounds, but the most serious wounds were inside. How long they would take to heal was another matter.

I was not myself for days. Marta told me. I can recall seeing her face bent over me sometimes as she gave me water or some of the foul tasting herbal brews the old woman made. No, I should not refer to her that way because it is rude and she was so kind. Her name was Kana and she was a highly respected elder.

“She is the wise woman, the
dukkerin
—the fortune teller.”

“I take from God’s earth special things to make you well, to make all who are ill well.”

Kana’s gentle words and quiet voice expressed more kindness than I could ever remember hearing.

How good her hand felt upon my fevered brow, like my mother’s touch from long ago.

Yes, I was beginning to recall my mother without thinking of the vicious wraith that nearly destroyed those memories.

“Child, you have been through much. You will be fine, Rose. You will see,” Kana soothed.

Marta hugged me. “We were not friends you and I, Rose, but I think we may be now.”

I nodded, though I was barely thinking of that. I was thinking of Grace Poole and the awful things Dr. Bannion had told me, of his past outrages upon me, but worse of all was that he had known my father!

I felt I had been vindicated, for it occurred to me that my father had indeed let evil in, evil in the shape of Dr. Bannion, evil that would fester and lead to more evil.

I wept and suffered and wept some more; and then I thought of Louis and wondered if I should ever see him again, for truly I wondered if it would be best to forget the past, to escape all the evil and anything associated with it.

Yet, though I did consider this, I think my mind was already made up, though I did not know it.

Chapter 33

The next few days brought with it the realization of my dilemma
. For if I had wondered about Louis, I also constantly questioned myself and my feelings. I did still want to think of him—to help him, to see that he was alright.

Kana knew without being asked. “The one you care about is well. Do not fear for him, he survives…”

How deeply she gazed at me when she said that, a knowing look but an understanding one as well.

“I cannot help loving him. I think it is impossible to stop!”

She sighed and patted my arm. “Try to clear your mind. It is rest you need now, child. Try not to worry about him, the evil has gone.” She looked away then. “I did not know when it was to come…for I should have advised Marta not to go.”

I nodded for I understood this.

“You must rest. Sleep is the best thing for your body and your brain.”

I said I would, and though I closed my eyes, my head was still full of thoughts of Louis. Most of all I wanted him to know I wasn’t clear-headed when I left. It no longer mattered to me that he wished me to leave, for I was feeling guilty that I had left!

I began to blame Marta for spiriting me away. Excuses, I know. But I was suffering and in great pain, still.

I had had demons all over me, feasting on my flesh, and this after being brutally ravished by Dr. Bannion. I shall never get that memory out of my head. I am sure of that. I am certain too that its poison will remain with me always.

But now there are other memories to recall, memories of Louis and the feelings I had for him, feelings that were just beginning to blossom into something deeper and unforgettable. And Louis—he who had always felt damned had of late, he swore, found love with
me!
Yet it tore him up, for he would always feel cursed by nature or God or whatever he or anyone wished to call the source of that damnation.

How I prayed that I might be able to recall his face, his touch, his voice.

But there were complications. It began to be difficult for me to think of him for I found I could not think of him without recalling Dr. Bannion and Eco, as well. Dr. Bannion and his terrible confessions to me, how evil that was, evil and unforgettable.

If I’d thought my father merely evil, I thought worse of him now. For I learned to see him as the lowest, most insane and depraved sort of being, a monster who had not only assaulted his own daughter but had given her up to another monster.

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