Electricity filled the air, crackling and humming as it writhed along the steel rods expertly positioned to siphon it from the lightning flashing across the sky. The white-blue light coursed along the metal, travelling almost faster than the eye could see. Down, down, it raced, from the trapdoor open at the roof of the tower, down through the musty old attic filled with long-forgotten furniture and priceless heirlooms gathering dust. Down past the bedrooms in their quiet stillness, empty and cold with no-one to warm them. Down past the lounges, the couches bare and fires unlit. Along the walls and corridors, high above the family portraits with their proud, stern sitters staring out across the years. Down past the servant quarters, long since out of use when times became hard and the workers were dismissed. Down into the depths of the ancient castle, where the air became chill and breath fogged out in a clouded haze. Down, and into the two gigantic orbs buzzing with energy, positioned either end of a strange apparatus that seemed a jumble of copper wires and twisted pipes. Amongst the tangle of metal and glass, many cables ran out along the floor, crossing haphazardly until they came to rest on the large wooden table standing alone in the middle of the room.
The table was tall, around waist height on a full-grown man, and evidently had been there for some time, for the legs were warped with age and damp. It hadn't been very well looked after, either, for the wood was stained and splotched with odd discolourations, dotted with singe marks and gouged with countless scratches. Some were thin and barely visible, the mark of a careless tool, perhaps; but others were long, deep scores, too jagged and clumsy to be made by any human means.
The rest of the room seemed in a similar state of disrepair. The stone walls wept with the damp, covered in moss and diseased-looking fungi where the water collected in hollows and dips. They, too, were gouged with marks and singed with fire, spotted with remnants of a dark, sticky liquid that did not bear a closer inspection. All around the basement, for that was what the room was, was the evidence of its' current purpose. Scientific equipment was scattered everywhere in no apparent order whatsoever. Bunsen burners were placed next to stethoscopes and syringes, beakers of foaming liquid alongside voltage meters and distillation sills. The entire room had the feel of a dangerous laboratory, one that was only a single step away from disaster.
And maybe it was, for it was what was laid out on the table that was the most disturbing of all. Resting on the wooden surface as though in hideous mockery of repose was a child, no more than ten years old. Their face was smooth, calm; they appeared to be asleep, if one could ever be at peace enough in their grim surroundings to be so. But a closer look revealed the truth. Their skin was too pale, cheeks and eyes sunken into shadowed hollows. And the little body never moved, despite the cold breeze blowing across the thin white blouse and yellow-stockinged legs tucked into puffed blue shorts. The brightly coloured garments were a garish contrast against the snowy skin and almost lavender-white of their hair, carefully gathered into two long braids that dangled over the side of the table, reaching almost to the floor. With the length of the hair and the angelic delicacy of the features, it was difficult to tell the child's gender, but the clothes seemed more fitting for a boy than a girl.
The boy – if the child was, indeed, male – was held down on the table by thick leather straps across his chest, stomach and thighs. Similar restraints were placed around his wrists and ankles, forbidding movement and escape. His head was held in place by an odd contraption, a cap of wires and electrodes connected to the twin balls of fizzing energy by numerous thin cables and sharp-toothed metal clips.
If the head had been allowed to move, it would have turned at the sound of footsteps on the cold stone floor. A figure clad in a long white coat stepped into the room, clipboard in hand. He walked around the room, peering intently at the notes in his hand, nodding as he completed his inspection of the equipment around him. Finally, he walked over to the boy lying on the table, reaching out to smooth a lock of silver-white hair away from his forehead, careful not to disturb the equipment.
"Not long now, Liebling." he murmured soothingly. "Just a little while longer, then you'll be back here with us, where you belong."
The words were unheard by the body, of course, but the scientist gave a gentle smile anyway. He turned away, adjusting dials and levers as the storm outside rose to a crashing crescendo. Lightning began sparking along the wires and cables, dancing around the boy until he was covered in a latticework of crystalline light that hurt the eyes to look at.
The jumping energy made it difficult to tell, but was that…? Did it actually…?
Yes! It was working! Fingers twitched with the energy the body was absorbing, limbs jerking as electricity flooded into the deadened nerves.
The scientist watched in rapt amazement as the body twisted and jerked against its restraints, hardly daring to breathe as bolt after bolt earthed itself in the flesh. The display continued for several minutes, each flash of thunder and lightning louder and brighter than the last until finally, it happened.
The boy's eyes flew open, lungs gulping as they gasped for air. He tried to turn his head, but could not, his hands fisting as they worked against their shackles. His mouth opened and closed, brows at first furrowing, then raising as his purple irises looked this way and that.
Eyes that were matched by those of the scientist, his bespectacled lavender orbs wide and triumphant as they regarded the result of his latest experiment.
No, that was the wrong word. This boy was far more than a mere experiment, he was the culmination of the scientist's life work, his tireless research into the quest for ultimate power over life and death. And now, he was proof of the scientist's brilliance, proof that he had succeeded where so many others had failed. Let them laugh at him, let them scoff and call him madman. The scientist did not care. At long last, he had his son back, and the three of them could finally be a proper family once again.
Outside, the storm was starting to drift away, the wind and rain losing their frantic tone to die down into a more soothing rhythm. The lightning came in irregular flashes now, the thunder calming into a distant purr. The scientist checked the cages of light, now devoid of their crackling energy, and shut off the levers and valves that had been thrown open to catch the precious power.
The equipment died with a whine, the glass spheres fading from a blue-white glow to their previous opaque gleam, devoid of life. The wires and tubes sparked occasionally, but otherwise the room was eerily still and silent after the storm of noise.
One final switched flicked, and the work was done. He could prolong it no longer. Hesitantly, the scientist approached the work table and looked down. The boy's eyes had closed again, but his face had a little more colour than before. Most importantly, his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, breath puffing out in the cold air. Softly, gently, the scientist reached out to place a hand on the boy's thin chest.
lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub
The pulsing beat could be felt even through his thin leather gloves, and the scientist released a breath he had not even realised he was holding. It had worked. His son was returned to him.
All that remained was to see how much had returned to him. So many times, the scientist had brought a body back to life, only for the power animating it to prove unstable. Without the key ingredient, the true spark of life that set humans apart from other creatures, the body would be a mere animal, capable of following a set of commands but with no ability to reason or think. To ensure a permanent tie to the world, and a mind with which to think with, one needed a human soul.
How fortunate, then, that the boy's mother was a witch, one more than skilled in the dark arts of necromancy. She had called out to her son at the moment of his death, taking his soul back into her body where it had originally resided for those nine long months, keeping it there until it could be returned to its rightful abode.
And now, it was time to reunite body and spirit. Time to restore the family and make it whole again.
The scientist unbuckled the straps holding the body in place, working the stiff leather until the tongues were free from their metal clasps. Tenderly, he gathered the sleeping boy in his arms and carried him upstairs, heading through the maze of corridors until reaching a balcony overlooking the forest below. There, he was greeted by the sight of two figures bathed in moonlight, talking quietly in the stillness of the night.
Hearing his approach, the man and woman stopped their conversation, breaking off to stare at the boy held in his arms. The man's face was unreadable, unnaturally beautiful features impassive as he nodded to the scientist.
"I see you succeeded then. Well done." His soft voice pierced the air, crimson eyes glimmering with a strange emotion. Was it curiosity, envy, amazement or simply acknowledgement of the feat achieved? The scientist didn't know, but a simple 'thank you' was all he said. The man inclined his head again, strawberry blond locks falling in his face as he did so.
"Our agreement still stands. You have done your part, now it is time for mine. If you would, please."
The man extended his arm, snow-white skin shining translucently in the moonlight. He pointed to the bench nearby, and the scientist dutifully went over, laying his precious burden down gently on the cold stone surface. Once the boy was positioned, the woman left her position and joined her husband, tears in her eyes as she gazed down at her sleeping son.
She turned to the man still standing at the balcony's edge.
"It will work, won't it?" She asked nervously, pretty face contorted with barely-concealed impatience. The man's red eyes narrowed at the implied insult in her tone as well, unable to keep a faint sneer off his face as he replied.
"da, of course. My magic does not fail. Blood magic is powerful, and mine is the most powerful of all." The woman's own leaf green eyes narrowed in turn at the man's presumptuous tone, and she bit back a hissed retort as her husband laid a calming hand on her arm.
"Please, now is not the time for fighting. Dracul, are you ready?" the scientist looked towards the other man, and he nodded.
"Very well. Stand back." The pair did as they were told, and the man stepped forward, leaning over the boy. He raised a pale wrist to his mouth and bit down with dagger-sharp fangs, breaking the delicate skin and allowing rich red blood to flow to the surface. The liquid dripped over his hand as he opened the boy's mouth and watched it drip into the cavern, staining his lips and tongue.
The flow of crimson continued for a moment until the man signalled to the woman, who stepped forward to join him. At his motion, she raised her own hand and nicked her wrist with a tiny silver dagger, her blood flowing into her son's mouth to mix with the man's already there. The pool overflowed, trickling down porcelain cheeks and staining the white fabric of his shirt, but neither parents nor observer seemed to care.
The man and woman began chanting in lyrical tongues, voices rising and falling as a light began to shine, surrounding the boy's body as though lit from within. It grew and grew, becoming almost too much to bear, until suddenly a ball of light shot from the woman's hand and hovered above the child, drifting in slow circles before sinking into his chest. As it went, the light faded with it, and the man and woman ceased their incantation.
The woman healed her wound with a word, but the man had no such need for further spells. His wrist had already closed, leaving no trace of an injury at all. He lapped at the blood coating his arm, then licked his lips with a hungry smile. The woman wrinkled her nose in disgust, but said nothing. The man grinned at her expression, face alight with feral glee before sobering up and taking a step back.
"There. His soul is sealed, and my blood will ensure his body's survival. He will not age, and sickness and death will have no meaning for him. You will not lose him again." His eyes were solemn as he regarded the child, whose mother was now in the process of wiping away the blood coating his mouth and chin. She nodded vaguely at his words, ignoring him in favour of tending to her child.
It was the scientist, then, who stepped forward to face the man.
"Thank you." The words were simple, but they held a world of meaning. The scientist's handsome face was grave, sincere as he clasped the man's arm in silent gratitude.
"Think nothing of it. I, too, have someone I wish to protect, no matter the cost. But for the present, I must be on my way. The night is young, and we have not yet fed."
The scientist nodded, allowing the man to turn and leap lightly onto the stone railing running along the balcony's edge. Wings unfurled from the swirl of his cloak, and he readied to jump.
He raised an arm in farewell, the scientist mirroring the gesture. The woman gave a perfunctory nod, dismissal implicit in the motion as she continued her ministrations. The vampire rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He turned back to face the night and stepped off the balcony, plummeting to the ground before his wings snapped out and he soared away. The scientist watched him go, then turned his attention back to his son. He shared a look with his wife, who nodded and placed a hand on the boy's head.
"Time to wake up, little one." She said. "You've slept long enough."
At his mother's touch, the boy stirred, pale lashes fluttering open to reveal stunning lavender eyes.
"Mama?" The word was both question and answer. The scientist breathed a sigh of relief – the final hurdle had been passed. He remembered them, and by extension remembered himself.
The woman smiled down at him. "Hello, darling," she said, helping him sit up. She beckoned her husband over, and the scientist sat down next to his son, surprised when the boy wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his shirt.
"Papa. I missed you." His voice was muffled, but the words were clear. The scientist returned the hug, reaching out to his wife as well. The three of them stayed cocooned like that for a while, enjoying each other's warmth and comfort, before the scientist drew back to ask the most important question.
"How do you feel?"
The boy looked up at his father's eyes, the mirror of his own, then at his mother. He tilted his head to one side, considering. He frowned, then his expression cleared. He opened his mouth, his high, angelic voice clear as he replied with one simple word.
"Hungry."
I originally wrote this and The Haunted Mansion for Halloween, but hey. Since I'm re-uploading everything separately, consider it a Happy New Year present instead :) Btw, does anyone know if the Edelstein family has a proper name as such, like Anko or Hanatamago family do? Or is Edelstein the name itself?
I'm sure you can all guess who characters are. I've used a different style in this and The Haunted Mansion, where I deliberately don't refer to anyone by name (or nationality) to keep the air of mystery. Please let me know how successful it was, because it's an interesting way to write and I'd like to know if it works or not.