About Me

My photo
We've MOVED: Visit the new site at https://sfaxon.com for the latest S. Faxon stories and reading escapes...

Monday, May 12, 2014

X-traordinary Distractions

Why are the X-Files so addicting? Watching a particularly entertaining episode in the background - it has everything from the "post-modern Prometheus" to Cher. Just like the book this episode is based on, I'm sure that it'll end in tears. (The Modern Prometheus is one of my favorite pieces of literature.)

On a significantly brighter note, this afternoon, I spent a particularly nice few hours enjoying the sun and working on my writing.

And now, I believe I am ready to present to you the second half of Providence's Chapter 17.

Chapter 17 ~ Continued

The road that the pair originally departed was merely a guise. The reverend did not want anyone in town to know where he was taking her. Ms. Grace initially guessed that they were heading to Portland for a doctor or to Dansend for some other reason. However, her intuition was completely thrown when, once they were past the reach of Providence’s eyes, the reverend turned his horse to a sharp right. They were headed straight into Homewood forest. He chose this route today to obviate any guesses of anyone seeing them leave together by chance. Regardless of the steps taken, there remained one more precaution that Mr. Tamrin had to take for Ms. Grace’s well-being.

“Ms. Grace,” he halted their ride. “There are two conditions that I must alert you to before we go a step more, but first, is your back feeling better?” Ms. Grace nodded – the throbbing had ceased thanks to the medicine. The confirmation that his medicine worked was fulfilling for Mr. Tamrin. He nervously scratched his chin then started his quick promulgate: “I will tell you the first point now and the second when we get where we are going.” The reverend did not want to do this to Ms. Grace, but it was for her own safety. He pulled from his pocket a clean handkerchief. “I’m afraid that the place where we are going requires that you do not know how to get there. If you would be so kind, Ms. Grace, I’ll ask that you cover your eyes for the remainder of our journey.” Ms. Grace looked surprised and justifiably so. “I apologize for this inconvenience, but I ask this of you for your protection rather than for theirs.”

What other choice did she have? Ms. Grace was curious about where they were going and she had an accurate idea as to where they were headed. “Very well,” she agreed, reaching down for the handkerchief. She obediently tied it tightly over her eyes. She was following him blindly into the unknown.

The unknown was actually not that far away. At the point where they stopped they were slightly less than two miles from their destination. As they drew nearer, with the blindfold over her eyes Ms. Grace could sense that there was something different about this place. It felt much warmer here than it should. It was also quiet, as though the forest itself was afraid to make a sound. Ms. Grace would not have admitted it to Mr. Tamrin, but she was nervous. All the tales and all the legends she had ever heard about their kind were running through her mind at top speed and it was hardly comforting. When Mr. Tamrin did ask her to remove the blindfold Ms. Grace was not sure if she wanted to see what was around her, but doing otherwise seemed dull. However, what met her eyes was not at all assuring. The first thing revealed to Ms. Grace’s sight with the removal of the handkerchief was a ghastly pair of wych elms. She had never seen trees growing as though tormented by each other’s company. The trees twisted and arched as if being tortured and frozen at the peak of their agony. They frightened her. The teacher did not yet know that those trees were not meant to be welcoming.

To the reverend, those trees were as inviting as anything else because of his familiarity of what lay inside. However, he was aware of the fear that consumed his company. It was the same feeling he felt when first he sought out the Cärabadés, but he was confident that his friends would receive her in their midst without thought. “Ms. Grace?” he pulled her attention away from the trees and back to himself. He held his arms up to help her out from the saddle.

Ms. Grace was not sure if she wanted to get off the horse. Her back was aching terribly and the peak of the saddle suddenly seemed to be miles off from the ground. Though, the inviting smile and outstretched arms of Mr. Tamrin told her that she would be fine. With a quick exhale, she slipped out of the saddle and into the gentleman’s arms. Mr. Tamrin held her for a resonating moment. The gesture of the man was so simple, but it did well to help push away her hesitations. “It’s going to be alright, Ms. Grace,” he assured, bravely pushing that stray lock of her hair behind her ear. He felt her tremble.

“I know,” she responded. Her fears were genuinely gone. “I trust you.”

The words rang in the reverend’s head as though they were a different three-word phrase. The man exhaled happily then he informed Ms. Grace on that second condition. “Before we enter this place that will seem much like a dream, I must first ask you to not mention Christmas while we are with them or, really anything that is related to God among them. They may speak freely with me about anything and everything, but that is only because they view me as having that authority. But other than that, there are no rules, Ms. Grace and I am sure that they will love you. Do not be afraid. They are not wicked.” Mr. Tamrin took hold of Ms. Grace’s hand, (it felt so right!), and he led her to those twisted trees. With a glance back at his horse who more than knew the routine, Mr. Tamrin positioned Ms. Grace right beside him.

They faced the doors. The reverend spoke the ancient language, which Ms. Grace had never heard before.

A voice speaking the same strange tongue was returned.

And then something that defied reality happened. A fizzing noise came from the elms before her and the gap between the trees dissolved into an aperture. Ms. Grace gasped as those elks became a gateway to a world below the ground mortals tread. As a stairway down appeared before her eyes, so too did the shape of a lovely pale woman, confirming Ms. Grace’s suspicions after years of guessing.

“Ms. Grace,” Lin greeted with the most wonderful and welcoming of smiles. “You’ve come here at last. How are you, Thane?”

“Very well, thank you, Lin,” Mr. Tamrin answered his “cousin” who clearly did not actually live in Viramont. Ms. Grace was too shocked from the wondrous appearance of the door, woman and stairs to say anything, so Mr. Tamrin continued, “We’ve actually come today for your help, Lin. Ms. Grace has sustained an injury and I was wondering if there was anything that you could do for her?”

Lin looked to Ms. Grace who seemed to be slowly coming back to cognition. “Of course we’ll help her in that matter, Thane!” Lin sharply said as though mildly offended by his doubt. “What happened? Please, come in, come in, come out from that cold air.” Lin stepped aside to welcome her friends into her home. Whilst the door fizzled back to its chameleon appearance, Mr. Tamrin explained to Lin the extent of the story he knew. The three of them descended the stairs into the nether world. Lin thought it appropriate that Ms. Grace be taken straight away to the master chamber so that her injuries could be evaluated.

Whilst the two carried out normal conversation Ms. Grace’s mouth was agape and her eyes were wide open throughout her brief tour of the castle underground. She did not see any of the vampires in their supposed monstrous or even their shadow forms, but that was because she was looking incorrectly. They were there and she could feel eyes watching her every move, but she could not see them. They were curious about this new visitor and they attentively observed her every move as the shadows on the walls. The family thought it fascinating to see another mortal in their den during the hours of day. They had existed in the nether world so long that it was peculiar to them to think of people doing anything but sleeping during the hours of light.

“This is my bedroom, Ms. Grace,” Lin informed as they entered the most spectacular living quarters the humble school teacher had ever seen. The pentagon shaped chamber was twenty feet wide and twenty long. The furnishings were the hues of dark emeralds and rubies, but there were no spectacular colors or items of furniture which really stood out from each other, save for the spectacularly large bed at the pentacle of the room. This really was the room of the elders, the place where Lin and Howard lay and gave council, but the matron did not want to overwhelm the poor girl with terms and explanations of their culture too quickly.

“Where’s Howard?” Mr. Tamrin asked. He kept his hand interlocked with Ms. Grace’s for her comfort – she gripped onto his fingers so tightly that he wondered a couple of times if she would be able to let go.

Lin quickly busied herself with lighting several of the torches on the walls to make the place more welcoming for Ms. Grace. The light certainly did make the room less sharp around the edges for the teacher who was not comfortable being enveloped in such darkness; the dim light worsened her vision. Lin walked to Mr. Tamrin and Ms. Grace to finally answer the reverend’s inquiry, “He is in the library. Do you want to go collect him, so that I may have a moment to privately evaluate her injuries?”

Ms. Grace was glad that it was Lin with whom she was to be left alone, for had it been any other person in this underground castle she would have arduously protested.

The reverend nodded and gave Ms. Grace’s hand a squeeze for reassurance before he left the room.

The door was closed behind Mr. Tamrin, which helped to make the next few moments only slightly less awkward for Ms. Grace. The poor dear had to repeat her undressing to show the matron her wounds. The red and the swelling had become an angry purple and a horridly sickening yellow. With a little bit of gentle poking and rubbing, the matron was able to discern something that was not good news. There was damage to Ms. Grace’s bones. On the backside of her rib cage a piece of bone splintered, but by God’s grace, her spinal cord did not sustain any altercation. However, if left alone the woman would be in incalculable pain for many years to come. There was but one thing that could be done for her.

It goes without saying that every bruise, every scar has a story, but few know how to read the injuries themselves to uncover the truth. This gift was one which grew into the vampires through years of observations and personal pains. As Ms. Grace stood with her front against the wall so that she was more comfortable with her tight outer dress off and her lose under dress pulled down past her ribcage, the matron read the story of the wound. The bruises told Lin that nothing fell on Ms. Grace because if anything had there would have been a different story of contusions in the skin. No, this woman was beaten either by something or against something, but definitively by someone. Truth be told, it was not only the bruises on Ms. Grace’s back that alerted Lin to this altercation in the story; it was the four unmistakable prints on either of Ms. Grace’s upper arms that pointed Lin in this direction of thought. Lin could hardly imagine what actually happened to Ms. Grace, but she knew that it was not presently her place to ask.

The reverend and the patron entered the room once Ms. Grace was once again decently dressed. On one of the three couches in the room the youngest of the bunch sat nervously with her hands between her knees. Her right leg was bouncing at an accelerated rate from her anxiousness while the elders spoke on the other side of the room. Ms. Grace could hardly stand the secrecy. She did not understand what they could possibly be talking about for so long.

What they were talking about was the most delicate subject, especially because of what it potentially implied.

“You know that there is no other way for us to help her, Thane,” Howard insisted quietly. “If the bruising and the splinter in the bone are as Lin tells, we have no other choice. This is one of those few things that we can do without the approval of the whole family.”

The reverend needed no reminding. When he sustained a nasty injury to his chin a few years back, the Cärabadés were only too happy to offer him this service, but he declined and was left with a scar on the left side of his chin. (He did not know this yet, but Ms. Grace’s poor eyesight kept her from even seeing this scar.) The man was hesitant because he did not know how Ms. Grace would react to such a thing happening to her. He had hoped that the vampires would know some sort of poultice or another that would alleviate the pain, but because they did not he was left with only this option.

“There’s something else, Thane,” Lin quietly said, stepping closer to her friend. The matron had been rather quiet throughout this private meeting of theirs. She did not know how to tell what she learned from Ms. Grace’s injuries without breaking any of those pesky rules of her family. “I’m going to suggest something to you which is not breaking the rules, it’s simply bending them,” Lin said using her hands to demonstrate herself bending an imaginary pole. Howard stared at Lin indifferently. He was not going to tell on her for breaking or bending any rules. He hardly cared for the rules himself. But he did enjoy the thrill of the debates and the formality of their democratic ceremonies like the rather important one they had only last night.

Lin continued, “Are you absolutely sure that Ms. Grace’s injuries are caused from something falling on her? How certain are you that these wounds instead were not inflicted by say, oh, I don’t know…someone instead of something?”

The reverend’s thoughts began to quickly connect the dots, but before he could completely finish the puzzle within his own mind, Lin thought it prudent to interrupt, “Thane, before anything else happens, we must ensure that the girl is alright. I don’t want her to be in any more pain. I don’t care how long I’ve lived or how great of injuries I’ve sustained, if that bruise were on my back I would be in constant agony.”

“Alright, if she concedes do what you must to help her,” the reverend agreed. “But,” he sternly added. “Don’t be careless, Lin.” The warning was firm, but unnecessary. Lin had healed enough mortals with her blood to know when to stop. Consuming too much of the blood of a vampire, be it by transfusion or by tongue, was a recipe to akin to their curse.

Lin scoffed playfully. “I’m not going to turn her into one of us,” the matron assured. “I promise that I will only give enough to set her right.” Lin did not finish her thought, but she also decided to give the girl enough to correct some other finicky features of Ms. Grace as well. “Come, Thane. You need to explain what is going to happen. It’ll be easier hearing it from you.”

Ms. Grace sat up straight though it pained her to do so as the three approached. She stood.

“Ms. Grace,” Mr. Tamrin softly started. He took hold of the young woman’s hands. “Lin and Howard have a way to literally erase the bruises and the pains…and all your scars for that matter.” The reverend paused. He was not exactly sure how he should explain this process to Ms. Grace without scarring her. “Um, what they have suggested is something formally called a ‘Transfer for Healing.’ What that means is that, well, vampire blood has extreme healing properties, Ms. Grace. So, by putting their blood into your system it will heal your wounds and make it be as though nothing bad ever happened.”

“How do they put it in my system?” Ms. Grace asked, feeling a little squeamish. She never liked the sight of blood, so thinking about this made her woozy.

Howard was the one to answer, “In this case we would put a very low amount in you through a simple transfusion.”

“What’s that?” Ms. Grace asked, she had never heard the word ‘transfusion’ before. There was a large pinch of panic emanating from her eyes.

The reverend held her hands tighter.

Lin stepped forward and bluntly informed the girl on the exact process. The ambiguous discourse of the men was more insidious than helpful. Ms. Grace listened intently to the matron speak openly with her about what would happen, which was actually interesting to Ms. Grace. Lin assured the “little-tree-climbing-school-teacher” that nothing could at all possibly go wrong because of their experience with healing and that if she agreed to this she would wake with less aches and pains than she had in years.

“So I don’t have to ingest it, in anyway?” Ms. Grace asked, double checking.

“No,” the others insisted and ensured at once.

“Leave that part to us,” Howard added with a wink.

Ms. Grace did feel assured and she did want to feel better, but she was not sure if this was wholly right. “And you’re sure about this too, are you, Mr. Tamrin?” Ms. Grace asked the man of God.

The reverend nodded and pulled her hands to his heart. “Ms. Grace, I would never put you or your soul, in harm’s way. I trust Lin and Howard with everything I hold dear. If they say that nothing bad will happen I trust them.”

Ms. Grace exhaled shakily. The reverend’s words were resolute enough for her. She agreed.

The next hour for the school teacher was fascinating. The matron excused the men once more as Ms. Grace slipped out of the tight outer dress and shoes to crawl into the enormous bed. The vampires were certain that she would slip into sleep during this process, so they might as well be prepared. Once Ms. Grace was fully settled into the position necessary Mr. Tamrin was allowed back into the room.

The gentleman settled on the bed beside Ms. Grace. The bed was so large that he could not kneel on the other side of it to watch over her protectively (Lin and Howard were occupying that spot), so the good man had to hop up onto the mattress to offer the assurance of his presence. She held tightly to his hand as Lin and Howard prepared her right arm for this queer procedure.

“Huh, I cannot even begin to imagine how Ms. Huff or Mrs. Winford would react to witnessing this scene,” Ms. Grace said lightly to her company once they told her that they were ready to begin. The idea of those ladies fainting from seeing all of this tickled her. “I have to admit, that even I’m a bit overwhelmed. I’ve heard of leeching, but never of putting blood in to someone.”

“Well, I can assure you that this process will be stranger than leeching, Ms. Grace,” Lin informed.

Much stranger, so if you please, child, don’t look away from Thane. Don’t watch what we are about to do.” Howard took a gentle hold to Ms. Grace’s wrist, turning her forearm up. “Actually, Thane,” Howard quietly added, “You should probably not look this way either.”

“No argument here,” Thane said. He was falling apart inside from nerves, but his expression was calm and collected for Ms. Grace. She was trembling. He held her hand tightly and he kept his eyes locked with hers. It was so clear to him how much she trusted him. In his peripherals Thane kept his watch up for when the vampires were about to perform the one slightly painful part for Ms. Grace. When that moment came, he softly kissed Ms. Grace’s hand to distract her from the dreadful pinch on the inside of her elbow. It hardly helped, but the gesture was well received.

The strangest sensation passed through her as blood from another was transfused into her body. She felt as though she was floating through a warm river contained inside her own skin.


Just as predicted the world peacefully started to fade from Ms. Grace’s eyes. The last her senses could detect was the gentle ticking sound of the pocket watch in the reverend’s vest.

~*~*~
It is far too late for me to process thought into written word. Have a lovely night to you late readers and to you early-bird-blog readers, enjoy the rest of your day!

Your humble author,
S. Faxon


No comments:

Post a Comment