A/N: Oh, man. So... this took way longer than I thought! Of course, trying to juggle this with college work and the flu, could probably do that to one's story. Anyway... I hope you guys are enjoying this and for those of you who have reviewed, followed or favourited this story, I'm really grateful. Just a little change - I've decided to write in first person (thanks to CrowJane for the wonderful advice). It's weird having to write in a novelistic format when all I've been writing for almost two years now, have been screenplays... and the difference in format for those two are vastly different.
So, I don't want to drag this AN out too much, so I'll let you guys jump right back into the story. And I really do apologise for the long wait - I promise, it won't happen again! Enjoy :)
Chapter 2 – You Are Not The Same
When we finally arrive at Sir Malcolm's mansion, Sembene still belies no emotion. I don't know whether to find that comforting or troubling. Either way, whatever the reason, I don't find myself minding in the least. I release a puff of breath, running a hand through my already haphazard hair. No more piercing stares, I think. That feeling of relief only intensifies when the front door slams shut behind us. Vanessa shoots me a smile over her shoulder.
"There's a washroom down the hall, Mr Chandler," she says. Vanessa reaches out to me, her elegant eyebrows arching. "Your coat?"
"Oh, right." I shrug out of my coarse, blood-coated overcoat. "You really don't have to."
"You needed my help, didn't you?" she asks, her smile still firmly in place. I can't help but feel hesitant. The last time I had someone care for me, was in America… at home. A very, very long time ago. I see them now, thoughts of my mother flashing through my mind; her tender-hearted gaze as she tucked me into bed, her soft smile as she tended to my scraped knee… her cold, lifeless eyes staring up at me, her body so motionless, so unaware.
With that last thought branded into my mind's eye, I snap my train of thought back to the present. Vanessa's smile has vanished. I find her understanding, empathetic gaze and perhaps, I realise, I might have found a kindred spirit.
"Go on. I'll be back shortly," Vanessa reassures. I nod and turn to make my way down the hall. Sighing, I run my hand along the smooth softness of the wood-panelled wall. With my other hand, I reach up to undo the buttons on my shirt. This feeling of luxury at my fingertips really has become something foreign to me. As wealthy as my parents were, they didn't quite have this. Nonetheless, we still had more than most people would ever own in their entire lives.
I shuffle over to a single granite-top table. On top of it, sits a ceramic washbasin with a silver tap head reaching over it in a shiny arch. Above it, is a mirror decorated with fine scratches on the edges. The washroom is modest. The floor is a quilt of off-white tiles. In the far corner, stands a white, claw-foot bath and right beside it, a decent toilet. I bend down, splash some water over my face. My heart leaps at the fresh iciness of the temperature.
I should have expected it. After all, that same feeling of dread, where the hairs on the nape of my neck stand to attention, always seems to foreshadow him. My alter ego. So, it really is no surprise that, when I come back up, I glimpse at a face with glowing yellow eyes and lips pulled back to reveal sharp fangs. And yet, I still cry out and stumble back. My hands fly up to my face and I frantically feel for the large, sharp teeth.
"You are not the same," Sembene says from the washroom doorway. I start, spin around to face the African man in all his stoic glory. Sembene holds a clean towel and fresh shirt, all neatly folded.
"What?" I ask, confused and slightly annoyed. Of all the times he had to catch me off guard, this had to be one of them? Sembene steps forward.
"You are different, in some way," Sembene explains. Almost gingerly, he places the towel and shirt on the granite-top table. I shake my head, a frown quickly pulling at my eyebrows.
"Don't pretend like you know me, 'cause you sure as hell don't," I snap.
Sembene turns to leave. When he reaches the doorway, he stops, turns his head to the side. "I am not sure you know who you are yourself, Mr Chandler." With that, Sembene leaves in a flash of silence.
I don't know what to say, or how to feel. What if Sembene is right? What if I don't know who I really am? I realise that the possibility of that being true, is overwhelmingly large. I'm always staring at my reflection in a lone mirror, whether it be in a pub, nursing a drink, or on my own, in some dingy room with stained bed sheets and a toilet that doesn't flush. One thing will always remain as clear as a sunny day – I'm not the same Ethan Chandler that I was.
And it's the matter of finding out who I really am that will either become my doom, or my much dreamed-about salvation.
000
When I find Vanessa, she's not alone. Sir Malcolm, hands resting on her shoulders, turns his smiling gaze to me. I almost scoff out loud at his attempt at a smile. His grey eyes are narrowed, distant almost. I sense his trepidation – it hangs thick in the air surrounding him. Holding up appearances, I think. Well, two can play at this game. I return his simulated smile with one of my own and reach out my hand in greeting. Sir Malcolm takes it stiffly.
"Mr Chandler. Miss Ives was kind enough to inform me of your presence," Sir Malcolm says. "I believe you need my help?"
"I do. If you're willin', of course," I reply, releasing his hand.
"Of course. Follow me, Mr Chandler."
Sir Malcolm strides from the entrance hall without another word. I glance at Vanessa, hoping to gauge her mood, but find only her impeccably put-together, steely gaze. I wonder, is she aware of Sir Malcolm's façade? With a sigh, I follow after Sir Malcolm at a slower pace, making sure to mentally prepare myself for anything that the older man might throw at me.
I step into the vast library, shut the door behind me. Sir Malcolm stands with his back to me, overlooking the square below from a tall window. The soft, orange glow of street lamps floods the room with a foreboding sense. Immediately, I stiffen. Oh boy, this might not end well, I think.
"Why are you here, Mr Chandler?" Sir Malcolm starts.
I step further into the room. "Well, I was hopin' to ask if I could stay here for a while? Just until –"
Sir Malcolm turns around, eyes as hard as steel. "No. Why are you here? What is it that you truly want, hm?"
"I – I don't possibly know what you mean, Sir. Look, I need a place to stay, just for a while," I say. Sir Malcolm stares, unflinching in his intensity. "Please," I think to add. Without his consent, I would have nowhere to go. It seems an individual's reputation spreads like wild fire around these parts.
"You might have Miss Ives and Sembene fooled, Mr Chandler, but not me. Never me."
This comment gets my hackles raised, so to speak. I clench my fists. "I'm not foolin' anyone, Sir Malcolm," I defend. "Especially not Miss Ives."
"Even so," Sir Malcolm advances, hands clasped behind his back. "I have prepared alternate arrangements. I have a friend in the lower district of London who would be more than willing to be of service. At a fair price, of course."
I lower my head, nodding absentmindedly. Lower district of London… that would mean being in the open and having to deal with more probing, unwanted stares. I fight the urge to snarl and meet Sir Malcolm's icy stare with one of my own. "Well… that's awfully kind of you, Sir."
Sir Malcolm brushes past me. "I shall arrange a carriage. Sembene will accompany you," Sir Malcolm says. I stare at the window and scoff at my luck. Even while I shake my head, I realise that I fully and unquestionably understand Sir Malcolm's actions. He's only trying to protect Vanessa. Really, I can't blame the older man; she's become more than just a useful guest.
I snort – guest being a very loose term, in Vanessa's case. Sighing, I turn to leave. Alright, Ethan, it's time to make new friends, I think sarcastically as I slam the library door shut behind me.
000
The orange cast of street lights glow into the night. Lounging on the carriage seat, I fiddle impatiently with the pocket watch at my waist. Not only is the old fool chasing me away, but now he's making me wait, too, I think irritably. That rich, pompous, son of a –
The carriage door swings open. My train of thought slams to a halt at the sight of Vanessa stepping in.
"Vanessa? What are you doin'?
Vanessa sits down opposite me with a small chuckle. "Why, I'm accompanying you, of course," she jests good-naturedly.
"No, I mean, what are you doin'? Sir Malcolm will surely have my head for this," I say, my gaze turning to watch Sir Malcolm stand stiffly in the entryway to his mansion.
"Oh, please. Stop fretting, I came of my own volition," she assures. The carriage jolts forward as I turn to shoot her a smile. A comfortable silence stretches itself through the carriage, hanging like soft mist after a rainy night. I feel every fibre of my being gravitate towards this easy feeling. So many people have their needs, their wants… their dreams, in life. Get a good job, marry, have children, settle down. But this? This feeling of quiet solitude, it's definitely something worth living for, something I could live for. When I feel my eyes begin to droop, Vanessa speaks softly.
"You seem overly troubled, Mr Chandler."
Silence. The muffled sound of the bustling London streets reaches us through an open window in the carriage. Vanessa glances at me.
"You are a good man, Ethan. And you have done so much good by helping in our search for Mina. You've… You've been awfully kind to me. Surely, that could suffice as enough comfort?" Vanessa says, her voice so delicate, so soft.
I stare at her for what feels like a very long time before I answer. "I wish that were true, Miss Ives. I wish for that every night I lay awake in bed. But… I've come to learn that… you can't change who you are, no matter who you save, or who you help." I drop my gaze to the carriage floor, clear my throat. "I… I might even have given up on trying a very, very long time ago."
The harsh, clip-clop sound of the horse hooves over the cobbled streets of London is my only answer for quite some time. Vanessa drops her gaze to her lap, almost as if she was aware of what I meant. Could she possibly understand this feeling? Even with everything she's been through, could it truly be possible?
And then, suddenly, I sense it too late.
It happens so fast, too fast. Vanessa makes to reply, mouth moving to form the words, when the carriage comes to a sudden, jolting stop. Outside, the horses screech with fear. The coach flips over, creaking and groaning in the abnormal movement. Vertigo kicks in and Vanessa falls forward. I anticipate the action just in time, as I reach out my arms to break her fall. She crashes into me with a gasp, clutches frantically at my coat lapels. As the carriage tumbles over, we crash onto the roof with near bone-splitting force. The windows burst into a glitter of glass fragments as the coach screeches to a halt. I wrap my arms around Vanessa's small shoulders, cradling her closer into my chest.
Then… there's nothing.
An eerie silence descends on us, the only noise being our gasping breaths. I snap my gaze around, a sudden realisation hitting me like a stone to the head – it's far too quiet. No people, no wind, no horses… just a void of nothingness. I loosen my grip on Vanessa, lower my head to appraise her.
"You alright?" I ask in a rush. She nods, releasing her grip on my coat. "Come on, let's get out of here."
A deafening thud sounds from above. The carriage shudders and sways. Vanessa shoots a frightened frown at me. "What was that?" she asks.
I shake my head. " I don't know." And I realise with sinking dread that I honestly, truly do no know what it is. All the more reason to get out of here!
When I release Vanessa completely to crawl out through the carriage window, a foreboding feeling of something unnaturally wrong invades my senses. And all too quickly, I realise I'm too late when a pale, clawed hand grabs at Vanessa. With a cry, she's jerked violently through the opposite window and vanishes into the night.
"Vanessa!"
Sooo... the dreaded cliffhanger... dun dun dun.
If you guys have any questions or comments, please feel free to send them on through. Much love!
