~ You’re pulled into the secret and ritualistic sphere of Vampire culture with a mysterious invitation, specifically, a Vampire funeral. An event considered scared and honoured in Vampire culture, but you, having no connections to any Vampires, are invited to one by an unknown benefactor. You accept the invitation to find out who wanted you there and why. You hope this doesn’t become your final night on Earth.
~ An original one-off Vampire story based on a dream I had. A bit of world building beforehand. I might write more Monster stories set in this universe in the future.
~ Warnings: Written in second person (I’ll learn third person one day, lol), with an afab main character and established name, mentions of death, violence, misogyny, supernatural themes, unhappy ending
The world of humans, at large, was made aware of the secret world of Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, and Fae in the late 1980’s thanks to a war between various members of these races and the humans who once upon a time in secret, dedicated their lives to fighting these forces from harming others. This great battle brought such things and magics to the mainstream, both for better and for worse.
The 1990’s saw an economic struggle and general collapse of culture while humans tried to wrap their minds around such a fantastical new world. Those of magical origin reveled in their new freedom into the public eye. Every nation delt with their new reality differently. But by the early 2000’s, a balance and treaties were made. Albeit, a rocky one. But after so much blood shed on many battle fields of various races, everyone grew tired and wanted a return to normality. It’s now the 2020’s, and even though prejudices and stereotypes are strong, some choose to not bother with such things and just try to make it through a life like the times before the “Great Reveal” as it was called.
This is where you get pulled into a world you simply tried to live along side, a dive into the deep end that you never asked for, but became victim to.
…
Pulling the brown and pale gold envelope out of the mailbox confused you a little bit. It had your first and last name on it, your correct address. There wasn’t much of a return address, just the declaration of “The Callaghan Estate”. You decide to open it inside after looking into the name. It sounded familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it. With luck, the first few search engine results gave you all you needed. It’s the property, and business name, of a “well connected” vampire lineage. Vampires didn’t refer to themselves as family, it was something old fashioned and bold like “clan”, “ancestry”, “dynasty”, “lineage”, or “house” or something just as ‘high and mighty’.
But that was the general opinion of vampires anyways, they’re believed to see themselves as better and higher than others. Even young and or rouge Vampires felt superior, or so goes the common belief. Ah, as well, rouge Vampires could be considered more commonly dangerous, as they are stray Vampires without, or not a part of, a “clan/house”.
With the blinds of your apartment bedroom shut, you cautiously open the beautiful envelope.
‘To Lady Alexandria Thompson’
Pfft, you pout “Since when am I a ‘Lady’?” The point of humour is one you cling to, to settle your nerves. Yet, you continue with nerves stirring in your gut.
‘You have been summoned to attend the Funeral of the respected and honoured one, Leonardo Arquitius, on April 30 th. The event shall start at 11:45 PM at The Callaghan Estate and will resign at Sunrise of May 1 st.
Please dress proudly to honour the second life and final death of our beloved ancestor. No additional guest to this summons will be permitted.
Regards,
Sir Marcus Callaghan’
You read over it a few times, stunned at such a strange moment. Firstly, you didn’t really know any Vampires. The closest you got was two or three regulars you got at the electronics store you worked at. They all seemed to be fairly young Vampires as they knew the tech your store sold decently enough. Secondly, Vampire funerals were very important events to Vampire culture.
You knew only bits and pieces, but a refresher on online forums and specialty blogs filled you in on some parts you missed. Vampire funerals were generally events when a Vampire was ready to die, and wanted to pass on. Usually, it tends to be Vampires of a significant age to warrant such a celebration. It would start late after sunset, with dancing and music favoured by the one being honoured. Speeches from those close to the one being honoured was going to be the bulk of the celebration. And as the time for sunrise would approach, the Vampire being honoured would make their way outside the event building to the roof, joined by human companions and/or servants that have been with them the longest, or are the most trusted. They would stay till Sunrise and be witness to that Vampire’s death but sunlight. They would collect the ashes and return inside for the wake. The Vampires in attendance would retire further into the building for rest with their companions or business with other Vampires present.
Not too much difference from a human funeral and wake. Kinda. You weren’t sure what ‘dress proudly’ would really mean for you. However, Vampires tended to dress highly. Whether regal in formal attire from their particular age, or high class at a millionaire’s cocktail party, or even as extravagantly as the most amazing drag Kings and Queens you could see in a popular club on any Saturday night.
You opted for a classy but form fitting black dress with a high slit up the left leg, a sultry smokey eye make-up look, burgundy lips, a gold delicate chain head band with matching long chain earrings, hair curled and directed to your right shoulder, and short burgundy heals to match your lips. Grabbing a small black glitter purse, you make your way to your car.
The drive is about 45 to 50 minutes to the other side of the city. The estate is what you would expect. An old-style mansion on perfectly manicured lawn, across several dozen acres. Tall wrought iron fencing between stone columns. It was only a short while after the start of the event, and the valet stand was backed up. Once your car was taken, you tried to ease your breath before making it to the stone steps that graced the giant double doors. A pair of large guards checked all entering with red glowing eyes. A sign of Vampires utilizing magics, most likely checking for invites and weapons. You shake a little as you pass them amongst other, more confident and relaxed guests.
The way down the hall for the event was dressed in purple and gold fabrics, on the floor and draped across the ceiling. Paintings of the one you believe being honoured in tonight’s funeral line the walls in the last few meters to the next set of doors which opened to a magnificent ball room. High ceiling with elaborate chandeliers, also draped with purple fabrics. The band in front of the stage playing strange old songs you couldn’t really place, behind them in a throne, the Vampire of honour. A line to the right of the stage of those waiting a turn to pay their final respects to him.
You made your way straight to the bar on the far-left side of the room. Ordering a simple and light cocktail, you take in the room that has quickly filled up. The scene of the ball room turns to one of a strange dream. Vampires dressed in extravagant or even most elegant attire from so many different eras. 1980’s, European renaissance, 1930’s, some in traditional attire from native cultures in the Americas and South East Asia. The variety of eras and dress put your mind into a state of wonder and dream like unease.
One of the commonly known traits of Vampires, although the ‘turning’ process is still kept quite secret, its side effects, the main traits of vampirism, was death to parts of the mind. In the turning process and resulting effects, parts of the brain die and cannot be revived like others. This leads to what’s called ‘time suspension’. Because of the areas of the brain that handle memory and forming new memories, and learning new skills, are damaged and partially die, Vampires are essentially ‘trapped’ in their last known time period in their own mind. Which makes it difficult for Vampires to blend in with human society (prior to the ‘Great Reveal’). It also makes it difficult for them to use developing technology or moving past social norms and expectations.
So, every other decade, most Vampire clans turn one or two humans of that era. Those humans who study technology and social/modern culture studies are the most sought after of course. After the ‘Great Reveal’, local state or nation governments would get involved in approving turnings, to regulate the Vampire population. Vampires then turned to hiring humans as work companions, assistants, and servants to avoid the paper work and strict regulations for turnings.
You couldn’t help but watch the scenes and interactions around you. But it also built a sense of impatience in you. Why were you invited? You didn’t know anyone here at all. This was worse than your friend Bradley’s wedding last year. At least you knew the bride and groom, and were placed at a table with the groom’s workmates who took you into their fold with open arms and sympathy for being solo at a wedding. This was so much worse than that.
A few relatively modern Vampires occasionally tried to strike up a conversation with you, or asked you to join them elsewhere. You would be polite and try to tell them you were waiting for someone already. The one’s that asked who invited you, or who you were waiting on, would promptly leave you be once you shared the name of him, Marcus Callaghan.
You would find yourself finally brought out of your waiting around 3:30 am, or so. You tried not to look at the time between people watching and very animated speeches honouring Leonardo.
“Miss Alexandria Thompson?” A deep and sophisticated voice asked from behind you. Turning in the barstool, your met with a vision of grace and status. Brushed back dark blonde hair, a well-trimmed mustache, a navy-blue top hat to match his three-piece suit, a gold topped cane of dark coloured wood. You weren’t sure of his era or status, but his demeanor was serious and with purpose. He might not be as easily brushed off as the others, but he also knew your name.
“Yes, that’s me”, you meekly replied. “Please forgive the long wait, I had rather lengthy business to attend to. Join me in my study” he offers you his upheld left arm to take. You try your best to gracefully dismount the high barstool and adjust your purse over your shoulder. You place your hands carefully onto his offered arm and keep pace with his long and proud strides. You’re taken up two flights of stairs and into a long hall way. Along the way, the number of guests in the halls quickly thins out. This seemed to be a more private area of the mansion that everyone was respecting or knew not to enter. The imposing double doors at the end of the hall were opened by an attendant in a white suit. She kept her head down and gentle closed the doors behind you. You look back in worry, in case following him here was a mistake. He quietly leads you to one of the large chairs in front of his desk. You freeze yourself upright and try to steady your breath as he makes his way behind the desk, removing him cane, top hat, and outer coat onto the rack behind him. He seats himself silently down and finally addresses you.
“Miss Alexandria, I am Marcus Callaghan, current master of Callaghan estate” he states with a neutral expression. You’re not sure how to really respond, so you keep in plain and polite as best as your nerves will allow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Callaghan”, a brief pause puts you on edge again. He repositions his hands on the desk and continues. “Miss Thompson, I am sure such a sudden and unexpected invitation has confused your poor mind, so I shall explain as plainly as I can for you. You are not of any importance to me, which is why I have invited you, to convey a sense that you are. There are rogue Vampires unlawfully taking humans and leaving them drained near places of my business or within my territories. Its reflecting poorly on myself and my lineage name. As your place of business borders onto the edge of my territory, you will be chosen as one to lure out and assess if these attacks are against my lineage specifically, or are simply within my boundaries of my dominion.”
You’re given a moment to take in what he’s said, and you’re not too fond of it. “Wait, you want to use me as bait? Not even going to ask me first? That’s ridiculous, I’m out”. You tried to stand but his glowing red gaze froze you. You made a mistake in looking him in the eyes as you stood. Most hypnotic Vampire magics involved one’s vision, followed by touch and sound. “Stay, and be seated”. You could recall in your mind not wanting to, but your body was his now. It froze your blood, terrifying you with what he could do next. “Miss Thompson, the staff in my employ are too close and important to be made targets as their disappearance would arise harsher suspicions. I need to make someone seem like a personal companion to me to find those who would beseech my name. You’re an unmarried woman past her prime yet still flowing with desired blood. You don’t smoke, and drink on occasion, well, you could do to drink less and mind your hair better, however, you’ll do well enough for what I need you for.”
“… Are you serious right now? I’m just some random woman you’re going let die for your shitty investigation? Don’t you have Vampires in your clan that are better at this?” As you start to raise your voice, he stands and makes his way to you, grabbing your face to look him in the eyes again. Another foolish mistake, not keeping your eyes closed. “You will hold that uncouth tongue of yours! You’re a woman of unrestrained lifestyle, one who hasn’t chosen the proper path of serving a husband. These ‘modern times’ disrespect the days of order” He releases your jaw, but your gaze is still locked on him and your mind is still within his grip. Whatever he will soon order you to do, will be an order you cannot resist. He’s a Vampire of old age and powerful magics. You realize there isn’t anything you can do. He pulls out a small box from the top of his desk drawer and presents it to you.
“You will obey this order, Miss Thompson. You will carry this breastpin on your persons until you are taken against your will by anyone. Above all else, you will hold it. Allowing me to take down such an ungrateful offspring” You take the cameo styled, red gem brooch and place it within your purse. You cannot resist or refuse. A few tears fall from your eyes. Marcus returns to you after returning the case to his desk. While whipping away your tears, you ask one final question, “Will your people rescue me? Or will you just leave me to die for your stupid revenge?!”, without a response to your question, instead he permits you to leave the funeral and return home to your life.
As soon as he releases you from his spell, you nearly run and trip down the stairs. Not bothering with the glances or verbal remarks of those you pass. The valet returns your car, and quite quickly you leave. You cry all the way back to your apartment, and fall asleep in your bed in without a shower or changing. The stress and impending death sentence hangs heavy over you. You call in sick to work the next day, too rattled to leave your bed. You debate whether to call your family and say your last good byes. The idea of calling becomes too much. Late into the night, you write five letters, addressed to family and friends, sealed in envelopes and left to rest on your desk should the worst come to pass.
For two weeks you’re skittish of every noise and movement out of the corner of your eye. You can’t work out a change of your work schedule that has you finish before sundown. So, your life becomes a mad race home. You more frequently stay in contact with family and friends you haven’t messaged in a while. A few keep checking if things are alright, but you know informing them of anything would drag them into the hell you were forced into.
It was an overcast Thursday night when your fated day finally came. Rushing to your car as usual, only not quite making it before you feel a quick sting of something on your neck and someone gagging you. They easily pinned you down while whatever was happening took over. Your muscles lost strength and control, your vision blurred, and sounds became soft and muffled. You can still recall your surroundings, but can’t move anymore. The person behind your attack comes face to face with you, glowing red eyes trapping you further. “Well, well, well, looks like dear old Dad sent me a damn good one”, he quietly tells you as he picks you up. You’re carried and placed into the passenger side of your own car, with him at the wheel. You can barely make out his features, only being able to notice his pale skin and slicked back dark hair. Dark leather jacket and blue jeans are what you can piece together next. You’re not sure where he’s driving you, but you don’t like your odds. In what feels like an hour or two of a drowsy drive, you realized your car has been parked.
You’re carried out and placed upon a couch in a darkened room. Some of your focus comes back to you, but nothing in your limbs. “…Where…? Why am I?”, you stumble out your words, not even realizing your talking really. He comes back to face you, faking sympathy in his tone and a grin across your face. “Oh, darlin’, you’re so strong tryin’ ta speak. But it’d be best just to let it all go. See dear Daddy can’t stand to see his boy go hungry or be caught, ya know, somethin’ bout Makers always lookin’ out for their kids even when we go rogue. Dear Dad thought you’d be great for me, no one special who could easily go missin’. Or we could fake you dying in a fire at ‘ur apartment? Not sure what yet but… Oh shoosh, hey Darlin’.” You can’t hold back the tears again. You weren’t just bait for find rogues causing trouble for a well-known business man, you’re cattle for his untamable offspring. He holds your face with a grin and a fake tone of voice, clearly find with kidnapping you.
“Aw Darlin’ it’s not that bad, I’m not gonna drain you dry right away, I’ll keep you alive for a little bit, maybe if I’m really fond of ya, I’ll turn ya and you’ll be me obedient little pet! What’d ya say?”
You can’t respond, you breakdown and feel the light drain from your soul as he drains your blood. You never thought you’d be so normal and so un-noticed that you’d be kidnapped for a meal. At least you were a little bit ready for the end, even if not one comes to rescue you.
~~~
Author’s Notes
Oh boy, that went darker than my original dream, sorry! But I loved the initial dream a ton and the story kind of built from there. Here’s what the original dream was: Invited to vampire funeral, people in a variety of era style clothing, speeches got more elaborate with magics and holograms (like egotistical Vegas performers trying to “one up” each other), being brought to office of benefactor who invited me telling me I’m bait for werewolves (! Big change!) on his turf, I said “no”, he said “too bad”, just cut to me at work, jump cut to me being held captive in cave by werewolf who hasn’t hurt me and doesn’t plan to (at least, on that night).
The story changed a bit and I add more details, but this dream segment was just too good to let go. I might write more monster/modern era stories in the future, hopefully with more happy endings, I’m on a bad ending/angst kick at the time of writing this.
The prompt I had was: ‘You will never “find” time for anything. If you want time, you must make it.’ (Charles Buxton)
Image IDs under the cut!
Image ID: A 14-panel comic strip
Panel 1: Top left reads 9:15pm. Enjolras is sat at a brown desk. He wears an oversized sweater that features a trans-flag coloured stripe across the chest and arms, and his blond hair is in a high bun. On the desk sits a purple mug, scattered loose papers, a laptop to one side and an open weekly planner that Enjolras is reading. In the empty space surrounding him is to-do items written in various colours. They read: “Permit requests: 487 (tick); 292 (tick); 14B (follow up)” “Funding application due Friday (Baz to check over budget)” “Finalise route for January march” “New ABC blog post? (it’s been a minute” “Mrs Combeferre’s birthday this weekend” “Sound kitchen roster (swap Thursdays)” In the bottom left corner is a small “R”.
Panel 2: Top left reads 10:09pm. Enjolras’s laptop is now in front of him - it has stickers on it that read “France France Revolution”, “I Voted”, and one of the LGBT flag. Enjolras looks more tired than the first panel, he is leant heavily on his left hand, his right hand sits on a red mug - a new addition to the cluttered desk. There are highlighters and a pen to his left. The words around him read: “Catering for Saturday (gluten free for Joly)” “Winter blanket drive (Talk to Ep re: shelter needs)” “Any leftovers in the fridge?” “Word count: 6,874. Word limit: 5k” “Check over meeting minutes” “LSF course 10am Thursday (crossed out to say 12 noon)” “Get Well Soon card for Bossuet” The “R” has gotten a little bigger, and is now by Enjolras’s shoulder.
Panel 3: Top left reads 11:32pm. Enjolras is yawning and stretching, he now has a month-view calendar of November on the desk in front of him. The red and purple mugs are stacked to his right, there is a glass of water to his left. Around him reads: “Room 104 doesn’t have ramp access (find new venue!)” “Les Amis holiday exchange (?? Pontmercy)” “Call Feuilly’s union contact” “Delete Twitter (again)” “Check the fire alarm batteries” “Jehan offered to proof-read speech (email it!)” The “R” is larger again, and is now by Enjorlas’s face.
Panel 4: Top left reads 11:33pm, the font is lighter than previous panels. Enjolras has noticed the “R” - which is now almost as big as his head.
Panel 5: Top left still reads 11:33pm, but it is so light it is almost not noticeable. Enjolras is checking his watch, his smartphone is in his right hand.
Panel 6: A close up of Enjorlas’s phone screen, open to the Messenger app. It is showing a conversation with Grantaire. The previous message from Grantaire reads “…Courfeyrac is probably not flammable.” The time stamp for the new conversation is Weds, Nov 3, 11:34pm. Enjolras has sent “You awake?” The three dots to represent the recipient typing are visible from Grantaire.
Panel 7: Enjolras is smiling down at his phone - viewed again from the perspective of earlier panels. To the left of the panel are two grey messenger bubbles. The first reads “Literally always.” The second reads “Usual spot?”
Panel 8: Enjolras is now standing and walking towards the right side of the frame - he carries the two mugs and the unfinished water glass while still smiling down at the phone in his hand. Behind him is a green speech bubble that shows a colon and closed bracket smile “ :) ”
Panels 9, 10, 11 and 12 are grouped together
Panel 9: A smaller panel that features Enjolras putting on a red jacket.
Panel 10: Partners Panel 9 in size, and shows Enjolras pulling on a dull green beanie, the jacket now buttoned.
Panel 11: Sits underneath the previous two panels, and shows Enjolras walking down a purple hallway towards a set of stairs. He has passed two doors numbered '307’ and '308’. On the wall behind him is a poster for the ABC.
Panel 12: A thin rectangular panel showing a close up of a sign on the purple hallway wall. It reads “To roof” and has an arrow pointing up-and-right - the direction Enjolras is walking in. There is a glimpse of Enjolras’s red jacket leaving the panel to the right.
Panel 13: Two almost silhouetted figures against a night sky. Closer to the viewer is Enjorlas, visible from mid-waist up. He is looking through a doorway at the more distant figure of Grantaire, who is visible from the knees up, and is looking out at the stars. The colours have shifted cooler in tone.
Panel 14: Grantaire and Enjolras are leant on the balcony railing - both resting on loosely crossed arms, not quite touching each other but close enough that they could be with little effort. Behind them is a sprawling night skyline, with the light pollution that comes with city life - various windows are lit, and the streets give off a glow. Grantaire is closer to the viewer, wearing an oversized green hoodie and triangular maroon scarf. He is looking down at the street below them. Enjolras is looking at Grantaire with a soft smile. A speech bubble to the left of Grantaire says “Have you finished up all your important to-dos?” The response to the right of Enjolras reads “I have now.”
