I opened my eyes. I looked around the clearing. Off in the near distance, I could see tombstones. I was in a cemetery, but it was not normal by any circumstances. the stones were tall and haunting; beautiful. Hundreds of candles flickered around me, the shadows dancing among the trees like little cloaked men. Said trees stood tall, blocking out the night sky with their leaves and branches. I could hear the occasionally beating of leathery wings above my head.

The short stretch of aisle ahead of me was a dirty worn path littered with rose petals and leaves. And at the end of that path was a coffin, a candelabrum, a silver chalice, and my love. His face was shadowed, but I just knew that he was beautiful. He was dressed in a black suit. Seeing his attire made me look down at mine. I was in a dark blue gown, and judging by how much taller I felt, I guessed I was wearing stilettos. I could tell I was wearing a black veil. In my pale hands was a bouquet of roses. Black roses, to be exact.

I took a step forward. The sudden smell of earth and incense filled my nostrils as I inhaled. Within seconds I was at the altar, I suppose you could call it. My love took my hand in one of his, and the goblet in the other. And in a voice I could only imagine, he said, "Eternally, my blood will flow in you, and yours in me. Eternally, I will take thine as my own, and thou shalt take me, and forever our love will live."

He took a sip out of the chalice. I repeated the words he had spoken, then he held the goblet to my lips. I sipped at the liquid; it tasted like sour death. Still, moments later, I felt like i was floating. The silver cup fell to the ground as a feeling of euphoria blasted through my being. I felt as if cool wax was dripping onto my skin, covering my body. He sank his fangs into my neck, sucking my blood from the wounds. Fangs sprouted from my gums, and I did the same to him mere moments later. We seemed to float into our casket; the lid slid closed, entombing us in total darkness.

"Forever," I whispered into his neck.

"My love, it's time to wake up," he whispered back.

And in a sudden whirl of darkness and light, he was gone.

xXx

"Gertrude , wake up!"

I slowly opened my eyes, looking around my dark room. The clock clanged six times, announcing that it was six PM. Almost instantly I was out of bed and at the door, opening it to see the one calling me. It was Eleanor Lepage, by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Her short black hair was in curls, her pale skin was flawless, and her green eyes were full of life. Wait, no. The eyes of the undead can't have life in them.

"It's time to clean up the dining room," she said, a smirk on her face. Then she practically floated away from me. I shuddered at her cruel words, but nonetheless did as I was told.

In the dining room, the usual supplies and mess waited for me. A mop, cleaning supplies, a black bag, and a mangled, drained corpse lay in the room for me. I got to work. I started off by dragging the woman's body and putting it into the black bag. Two men came and took the bag somewhere; I've never known where.

I did my best to scrub the blood off the marble floor. It was usually easy because it was fresh. The smell of blood and bleach filled my nostrils, the unpleasant aroma invading my senses. Soon enough, something else invaded.

"Hi," said a small voice from the doorway. I looked up. Little Jillian, daughter of Malcolm and Eleanor Lepage stood there, her black hair shining. There was a small spot of blood on her cheek. I motioned for her to come closer, so I could clean it off.

"How did you sleep?" she asked me. But knowing I wouldn't reply, she continued to speak. "I slept okay. Mommy read me a story yesterday morning..."

She continued to talk. I almost felt bad for not replying to her. Almost.

The night went on. I finished cleaning the dining room, then continued on to do finish my other chores. I made coffins, cleaned up around the mansion, the whole bit. My mind remained blank. This is what I am. A servant.

Later around dawn, I tucked Jillian into her coffin. She was my main concern around the house. Even if it meant getting lashings for not finishing my chores, I had to give up whatever I was doing to attend to her. "Goodnight Gertrude,"she said softly. I closed the coffin lid, and made my way to my own bed, hoping, praying, to wake up a free human being, And something told me that in a way, my dream would come true.

Ever since I can remember I'd been dreaming of freedom. My parents worked for this family. And I was conceived in this house. My parents were killed as soon as I was old enough to not need them anymore. But that's not why I hated them. I hated them because even when they were alive they weren't ever there for me. They treated Jillian more like a daughter than me. I had a serious case of sour grapes, but then again, didn't I have the right?

I hated everything that reminded me of them. I loathed my very name. They were terrible parents, and that was the end of it.