NOTES: Please be advised this story contains swearing, character death and some violence. There's also a lot of non-angsty stuff too, but this story is both light and dark. But then again, any stories about vampires has to be a little scary.
Also, this is a co-authored story. My co-writer does not have an account on fanfiction net, but she has given me permission to upload the story here. This story was originally published to An Archive of Our Own and is updated to chapter 16: /works/10933422/chapters/24323124
If you would prefer to read on fan fiction net I will continue to update this once a week here.
October 1935
Beth likes movies. Especially the creepy ones with monsters and wolf men and the frightened hero at his wit's end in the dark, desperately trying to survive. Every month she and Sam go down to the picture show and spend the evening watching beautiful people on fantastical adventures. She likes watching Sam react as much as she likes watching the movies themselves. Sam doesn't hide anything, and her reactions to scary scenes and shocking twists are always big and wonderful. Tonight they sat in the balcony, Hannah by their side, as they watched the premiere of Curse of the Vampyr, her father's latest feature film. Sam, Beth knows, doesn't like scary movies, but when she asks her coming out of the theater what she thought she beams.
"Oh, it was aces!" she tells her. "It was real scary, but I didn't mind too much this time. Going to the picture show with you is always a nice treat."
Beth personally thought the movie was silly, but if Sam liked it, maybe she should change her tune. She's about to say something else when a servant ushers them both into the back of a town car and they're driven to the Washington Estate for the gala. It's a big, fancy event, with such shameless displays of opulence that you can almost forget about the ever-growing bread lines just outside the blissful haze of Hollywood. As they enter the mansion Beth scans the crowd. She sees Hannah and Mike by the buffet, Mike showing her off to a small crowd of friends. Her parents are right in the center of the party, where they always seem to be, Bob getting lauded and Melinda flashing a winning smile at the crowd. Hollywood's favorite sweethearts.
She scans the crowd again. No Josh. Beth curses inwardly. She guesses her father told folks Josh is dreadful ill again, but she knows where her brother really is.
"Sammy!" calls a familiar voice. "Snazzy party, eh? Come take my arm!"
Beth and Sam look up to see a scrawny boy in a black tuxedo making his way over to them, a thin glass of champagne in one pale hand.
"Johnny, there you are!" Sam half-scolds. "I was looking for you!"
John takes Sam's arm and nods at Beth, grinning.
"Some party, eh Bethany?"
"Please, just call me Beth," she tells him for what must be the hundredth time.
John nods, still grinning like an idiot. Sam smiles apologetically.
"Think we're gonna go chat with Mike and Hannah for a spell," John says. "You coming, Bethany?"
"I…no, thank you. I'm quite alright."
Sam frowns.
"You sure, honey?"
"Yep," Beth says. "I just need some time to think is all. I'll see you two over there in a minute."
Sam and John head on, making their way through the crowd and Beth retreats to a corner by the stairs. She's none too fond of John, though she can't figure out why. Maybe it's the way he smiles like he knows everything, or the way he blithely ignores everything she says. Maybe he's just too happy. No one should be too cheery in times like these, anyway.
She looks over at the buffet table and watches her big sister soak up all the attention, giggling as Mike playfully spins her around. She starts to chat with Sam while Mike gives John a playful little shove and starts nattering on about something or another. What Beth wouldn't give to be Hannah for a day. Popular, spoiled, showered in affection. Her parents never blaming her for Josh's latest mishap or asking why she doesn't have a boy of her own yet.
Then again, if she were Hannah she'd probably have to kiss Mike, so maybe it's not worth it after all.
"Beth!"
Speak of the devil, Beth thinks. Hannah walks over to her, her face as pretty and made up as a china doll. Her dress is a pretty shade of purple, simple and conservative, but striking. Beth doesn't know why a girl who looks exactly like her can be so much more beautiful.
"Beth, what are you doing moping around here by yourself? Come talk with us!"
"Maybe later."
"Aw, Beth," Hannah says, her face softening. "Did something happen?"
"No. I'm fine."
"Of course you're not fine. I'm your sister, I can tell. I have twin mind reading powers, like in Tale of the Twins."
Beth saw that film with Sam last year. It was her father's favorite to make, but definitely not his best work, at least in her opinion. But ever since he started working on it Hannah just loved to reference the psychic twins and claim she and Beth were the same.
"I'm just a little tired, is all."
Hannah looks unconvinced.
"It's Johnny, isn't it?"
Beth doesn't answer.
"I know you don't like him, but I think he's a good man," Hannah says. "He can provide for Sammy, and that's all a girl can want, right?"
Beth shrugs. Hannah squeezes her hand.
"Don't worry, Beth. We'll find you a swell guy soon enough, and he'll take real good care of you, and you'll finally get why we're so dizzy for our men!" She laughs. Beth's about to reply when Mike calls Hannah back over. Hannah heads in his direction, flashing Beth an apologetic smile on her way.
She flags down a servant and grabs a glass of champagne, feeling the way it sizzles down her throat. Thank God prohibition is over, or she wouldn't be sure how she'd ever manage to put up with her family. She downs it in one gulp and is about to grab another when she hears her father call out to the party.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may introduce our film's key sponsor, the exquisite heiress of the Rosencrantz family, miss Cassandra Rosencrantz."
Beth looks up and feels her heart skip a beat. Standing in the center of the room is the most beautiful woman she has ever seen. Tall and elegant, with a flowing black dress and long, silky hair the color of smoked wood. She watches as the woman and two girls at her heels make their way through the crowd, not stopping to banter or chat with anybody and heading straight for—
Her?
Beth freezes, suddenly feeling very silly in her red dress and hastily-curled hair. She doesn't know what to do with the glass, and it ends up hanging awkwardly aside as the heiress approaches. Beth can see now that Cassandra's eyes are the darkest shade of blue she's ever seen. Like tiny fragments of the ocean at night. Beth swallows nervously.
"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself, my dear," Cassandra says, her voice deep and clear.
"I—oh, it's quite alright, just tired after a long day is all," Beth stammers. Cassandra smiles warmly.
"You look lovely, honey. I just adore your dress. Mind telling me your name?"
"B-Beth," she stutters. "Bethany W-Washington."
"Washington? Goodness, then it is you!" Cassandra exclaims. "Why, Mr. Washington told me he had a daughter. You're just who I was hoping to find."
Beth's heart sinks.
"Oh," she says. "I think he meant my sister. There's two of us, see. She's over there." Cassandra follows her pointing hand to where Hannah stands with Mike. Beth realizes that she and the others are staring at her, wearing a mixture of curiosity and jealousy.
Cassandra smiles.
"I'm not looking for Hannah, dear. I'm looking for you."
Beth thinks her heart might have stopped for a second.
"Me? Why?"
'Well, to be entirely honest," Cassandra says, before leaning in and whispering conspiratorially: "you're the only one in this party who isn't a bore." Beth giggles. Cass leans back. "Besides, I hate to see such a lovely girl look so lonely and sad. Why don't you tell me something about yourself, honey?"
"Ah, well, I suppose I like to read and to collect things. When Hannah and I were small, we would go to the park and try to catch fireflies in jars."
Cassandra laughs.
"It sounds like you were an adventurous little girl!"
"I was," Beth sighs. "Now I'm just supposed to stay around the house and look after my siblings. If I want an adventure, I read one instead."
Cassandra frowns.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, my dear." She leans in again and whispers in her ear. "Well, if you ever want to escape for a spell and go on an adventure with me and my girls here—" she gestures to the girls flanking her. "Feel free to come chat with me."
Beth's eyes widen.
"Really? You would do that?"
"Oh of course! I hate to see bright young people such as yourself so lonely and bored—"
"Miss Cassandra," Bob Washington interrupts, moving through the crowd to reach them. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I thought I might introduce you to my other daughter and her man, Michael Munroe. Played the lead in Curse of the Vampyr. He's an up-and-coming star here in Tinseltown, you know!"
Before she can agree or object, Bob takes Cassandra's arm and begins to pull her away from Beth.
"We'll have to continue this conversation another time," Cassandra says to Beth. "Think I could come down here again sometime?"
"Wha—yes, of course!" Beth says. "You can come visit any time you like!"
Cassandra smiles.
"I'll remember that. I'll be sure to come and visit you very, very soon."
Beth hands the scooper two nickels and grabs two cones, one chocolate, one strawberry. She hands Sam the strawberry cone and they head to the back of the parlor, to their usual booth. The table is discolored and flecked with ice cream stains, and the seats are worn and torn in places, off-white stuffing peeking out.
It's dirty, decrepit and ugly, far cry from the finery Beth is used to in her own home.
She loves it.
Sam sits down gingerly across from her, her plain white skirt ruffling as she moves. She gives her ice cream a few half-hearted licks while Beth watches her. She looks tired. Beth opens her mouth to ask what's wrong when Sam blurts out "I'm getting married."
Beth's stomach drops.
"What?"
"Well, I'm not certain, but I overheard my father talking with Johnny's folks last night after the party, and, well, you know things aren't going so well for my family." Sam stares at her ice cream, watching trickles of pink cream slide onto her hand. "Marrying him could keep my folks out of the bread lines. You know what a big noise Johnny's daddy is."
"B-but," Beth stammers, trying to wrap her head around something that seemed so terribly wrong. "But do you love him?"
Sam shrugs.
"I like him alright."
Beth gapes at her. Sam's face hardens.
"Oh don't you give me that stare, Beth. It's the Depression. True love won't fix the holes in our roof."
"But—"
"Beth, please," Sam sighs. "Just try to be happy for me. This is every girl's dream. And when we're both married women, we can laugh about all this."
Beth sighs and averts her eyes, looking out the window and the men on the street, dressed in rags and begging with passerby. She can't imagine Sam out there, even with her house falling apart and her father barely making ends meet.
True love won't fix the holes in our roof.
"You know, if I were a boy I'd marry you straight away," Beth says. "I'd make you a doll other guys would kill for. Anything you wanted would be yours."
Sam laughs and licks at her ice cream.
"What a silly thing to say!"
Beth laughs along with her. Sam's right. She doesn't know where that comment came from.
The sun is setting when she gets back to the mansion. Hannah's away with Mike at some fancy dinner, her father's at work, and her mother is napping. That leaves—
"Josh?"
She hears something shift upstairs, a soft curse. Beth grumbles and storms upstairs. When she bursts into Josh's room, she sees him halfway out the window.
"You're a real crumb at keeping quiet," she says as she drags him away from the window. "Where do you think you're going?"
Josh glares at her.
"What's it to you?"
"Joshua, we've spoken to you about this. You can't go back to that…that place."
"How do you know that's where I'm even going?"
"Because you're even worse at lying than you are at sneaking out," Beth says. Josh tries to make another run for the window and she grabs him again.
"I am not letting you go back to that battered old clip joint full of greaseballs and queers. You hear me?"
"You don't have any right to tell me what to do!" Josh snaps at her.
"You think I'm really just gonna let you waltz down to that shack and lay with some fruitcake like you did with—"
"Shut up!" Josh barks. "Like you're one to talk anyway. I see the way you look at Sam. You're just as much of a queer as me."
"How dare you—"
"What are you two yelling about?" Melinda calls upstairs. Beth sighs and turns her head to call down.
"Josh is—"
Before she can finish Josh has wriggled free from her grip and is out the window before she can grab him again. She curses under her breath.
"Josh is what, honey?"
"Nothing," Beth says.
"Well, can you two keep quiet up there? I'm trying to rest."
Beth sighs again.
"Yes mother."
She's awakened by a loud thud as something downstairs slams, hard, against the expensive marble floor of the foyer. Beth stirs, groggy and confused. She's about to blame Josh clumsily sneaking in or maybe the family dog knocking something over when she hears her mother scream.
Beth stumbles out of her room and down the hall to the stairs, nearly tripping in the dark at least three times. She hears voices coming from downstairs, not even trying to be discreet.
Women. Three of them, it sounds like. One is cold, clipped and professional. The second is higher-pitched, almost giddy with excitement. The third is deep and clear, like a bell, like—
—Like Cassandra.
"Remember to lift her with your legs, Beverly. We wouldn't want you hurting yourself."
"Why can't I stay and hunt?"
"Don't talk back to her like that—"
"Frances, dear, let me handle this. Beverly, once we get back to the manor, you can have the first taste of the best wine in the cellars. Deal?"
"Ugh, fine."
"Excellent. Now go. Frances, with me."
Beth feels a mix of panic and rage in her and she finds herself bounding down the stairs, ready to fight these women off if need be. Se doubts knocking some sense into these wealth-softened ladies will be too difficult.
When she gets down to the foyer, her stomach twists into a knot. The smell of blood is overpowering; she wants so badly to throw up. Her vision blurs as her head spins with nausea and it takes her a minute to see the bright splash of red in the middle of the room.
And the woman lying in it.
"MOM!"
Cassandra looks up, a faint smile on her bloody face. The two other girls she recognizes from the party. The taller one stands by Cassandra's side, a cold look on her face. The shorter is dragging Melinda's bloodstained body toward the doorway, smirking up at her.
"Well. Good evening, little girl."
Beth rushes at the girl, screaming wordless, enraged threats when Cassandra grabs her arm and effortlessly flings her across the room. The blood-stained gold and marble of the walls and floor spin and blur as she flies through the air and lands with a crack on the floor near the kitchen door. The wind rushes out of her and she gasps, struggling dazedly to her feet. The world swirls again and she bends over, vomiting in between her bare feet. One of the women makes a noise of disgust. Beth stumbles for the door to the kitchen and flings it open, listening to the sound of too-fast feet on marble as the women catch up to her. Beth dives behind the counter, fumbling through the drawers for a knife while the women approach. Beth curls up small in a shady corner, fighting back tears.
This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This isn't happening.
When the women round the corner of the counter, she dives past them, swinging wildly with the knife. She gets an elbow to the small of her back for her trouble, and slams onto the ground with a whimper. The knife skitters across the floor. The women hang over her, blocking out the light overhead. Cassandra pins Beth down and laughs into Beth's neck. Beth squeezes her eyes shut and wonders if it will be quick.
"Wait," the other woman, Frances, says. "Do you hear that?"
The room goes quiet and then Beth hears it too: a quiet intake of breath and nervous footsteps, just a few feet away.
Hannah. The racket must have woken her up.
"N-no," Beth manages. Every breath feels like a knife in her chest. "Hannah, go! RUN!"
Hannah freezes where she stands in the doorway to the kitchen, still in her childish nightgown, glasses askew. The color drains from her face as Frances stands and approaches her, grabbing her and pinning her effortlessly against the wall. Beth lets out a pained cry and slams her fist, over and over, against Cassandra's unflinching arms. Cassandra chuckles.
"My, my, my. What a dilemma, don't you think, Frances? Which one's neck to we break open first? I don't know whose agony will be more fun to watch."
"Let…let her go…please…" Beth gasps.
"Who? Your spoiled sister? That woman-child leeches off of everyone, including you. Ripping out her throat would be doing the world a favor."
Hannah lets out a cry of fear and pain. Frances hisses at her until she quiets.
"I didn't come here for her, you know," Cassandra whispers into Beth's ear. "I came here for you."
"W-why…? Why are you doing this?"
"I promised you an adventure, didn't I?" Cassandra hisses. "I'm a woman of my word, my dear."
And she bites down hard on Beth's neck.
The white hot pain lasts only a split second before the shock sets in. Beth feels something hot and sticky bubbling down her neck and onto her nightgown. She flails uselessly as Cassandra turns her over, caressing her face with a soft, cold hand. Beth feels something stir inside of her as shame and fear well up in equal measure.
That's why. She's being punished. Her whole family is being punished because she's sick too.
Josh was right.
Cassandra bites down on her own hand and places it over Beth's mouth, laughing when another dark coil of shame courses through Beth's heart. The woman's blood is thick and cold, and it slides down her throat like gelatin. Beth gags but can't throw it up. Cassandra smirks and stands. Her form blurs and twists as she moves, becoming a wolf, a snake, a huge wild cat as Beth's vision whirls and melds and bright colors pop in her face. An awful heat grips her body, burning up into her brain. She tries to move, but her body feels like it's made of worms, squirming and wriggling apart from itself. The world fades in and out and she drags herself toward the monsters menacing Hannah, all three women shifting and twisting in Beth's hazy vision. She grabs onto something—a leg? A branch? And calls out in a voice that's not her own but echoes deep inside her. Has she always sounded this small? This scared?
"Please don't…hurt her…I'll do anything…please…"
There's a laugh like the howl of some great beast. Cassandra reforms in her vision, too big and bright as everything else starts to fade. Her fever is starting to dissipate, leaving a worse cold than she's ever known behind.
"You still love her? After all you've suffered while she thrived?"
"Y-yes. A-always…"
There's a pause. Cassandra smirks.
"That's cute."
She descends upon Hannah and tears a hole in her throat with her teeth. Scarlet spills everywhere as Hannah gargles and gasps. Cassandra laughs and makes a new cut in her own hand, lowering it toward the twitching girl.
The blood is about to hit her lips when Beth blacks out.