Death Day +3
Sheldon Sands wakes up from Death
Consciousness returned slowly. For someone who was used to being waited upon, used to having friends eager to do him favors, Sheldon found himself in a new and disturbing situation. He was in an enclosed area, suffocatingly small. And he wasn't breathing. Not until he took in air to yell. His screams only bounced back at him from the ceiling of his confinement mere inches above his face.
It was all he could do to maneuver an arm free and try to feel the limits of his prison. It dawned upon him quite suddenly that he was in a wooden box of some sort, padded with satin, a small pillow under his head. A coffin! His hands went to his chest. No heart beat. No wait. It was there, very faintly, and different somehow. He was clearly alive.
For a short time panic overtook his coolly logical mind. He fought against the cruel confines, beating, screaming, clawing until blood ran from his fingertips and tears slid from his eyes. Curses at the stupid world, the world that would bury a man alive just because they couldn't feel his heart beat, slowly died into an utterly intense silence.
In that silence, madness threatened him. He had memories of Lilith and the doors opening, Jacob coming in full of rage. He remembered the man at his neck, then Lilith's urgent voice. Drink. Drink. What had happened to him? There was nothing in had heard or read that could account for it. He must be dead, then. This must be what it is like. He could not imagine lying in such close quarters as his body disintegrated around him.
He closed his eyes, but had no voice left to whimper. Was it minutes, hours or days that passed? He could not tell.
Then it struck him. If he was in a totally closed box, how is it that he could see himself? His eyes flew open. He lifted a hand. There was a reddish shadow before his eyes. He could see his own hand, not well, but he could see. Where was the light source? Due to the close proximity of the coffin's lid, he was unable to raise his head more than a few inches. He gazed down at himself. It seemed that his own body was the source of the light, for the wood held nothing, the blankets nothing, but his form had a soft red glow to it, even through the clothes.
With a groan, he let his head fall and closed his eyes. Now he would truly die, abandoned by the stupidity of his family. He lay in utter silence. Visions swam into his eyes. Flashes of his life. The women. The games. The reckless abandon and controlled chances.
Into the silence came a noise. It sounded like metal clanging against metal. Taking in a deep breath of stale air, he cried out. "Help!" His fists began once again to pound at the coffin's lid. "I'm alive!" he screamed.
The noises continued. There was a crashing sound followed by footsteps.
"Help me, Dickerson." It was Lilith's voice, muffled, but Sheldon could clearly hear it.
More footsteps. Something heavy sliding just above him. A moment later the lid flew open and he found himself looking up at Lilith.
"Sheldon," she spoke softly. "My dear boy."
He grabbed hold of the sides of the coffin and tried to jump out, but his body was trembling and he needed help to sit up. There was a man with her, covered in dirt and dust, a pick-axe in his hand.
"Where am I?" Sheldon's gaze kept going to the man. Something about the filthy creature drew his attention.
"Help him out," Lilith ordered Dickerson. She turned to focus on Sheldon. "You're in your family's crypt. I had a difficult time getting onto the grounds."
"They think I'm dead?" Sheldon asked, his head swirling. Of course they did. "They buried me." Anger colored his raspy voice.
"You are not dead. Not the way you think, anyway." Her words frightened him.
"What do you mean?"
"You are undead. Vampire. Have you heard of Vampires?"
Sheldon shook his head wordlessly. She made no sense.
With an exasperated gesture, she moved with Dickerson to help Sheldon climb from the coffin. "You were dying. It was the only way I could keep you alive. Undeath. You, I think, will adjust well."
Finding himself standing beside the rise upon which his coffin rested, Sheldon began to tremble. He pulled away from Dickerson and staggered to lean against his great-grandfather's sepulcher. Indescribable weakness caused him to hold on to prevent himself from sliding to the floor.
He watched as Dickerson and Lilith, apparently incredibly strong for her petite size, closed the coffin and lifted the marble lid back into place. "We must leave," she told him. "You will come with me. I will feed you, shelter you. You are my child now, Sheldon. The life you knew is over."
"Well, that's a relief," Sheldon mumbled.
Stronger than the man, it was Lilith who put her arm under his shoulder and helped him out into the night air. A wind was blowing, cool and clean from the north. Sheldon stopped to look up at the stars. They seemed magical tonight. Their light was brighter than he'd ever seen before.
"Come on," Lilith urged. He felt her tug him forward. His unsteady feet fought to keep up with her, but his attention was focused upon the incredible things happening in the sky.
He turned his head to speak to her, to ask what had changed the stars, when his gaze fell upon Dickerson. An instinct buried deep within his newly awakening body sprang to the fore. He could smell the man, not just the stench on him, but his very life. He could imagine the man's heart pumping, the blood flowing beneath the surface of his filthy skin. Sheldon wanted that blood. He needed that blood. With a hoarse growl, he lunged for the man, falling to the graveyard mud on top of him.
"Mistress!" Dickerson yelled. He had the pick still in his hand, and used it to beat at Sheldon's head.
"No! Stop!" Lilith's voice was like the voice of God. Despite his incredible need to bite into Dickerson, Sheldon froze. Dickerson likewise halted his attempt to struggle free.
"Sheldon, dear, he's my servant. You may not have him. I have someone for you. Now get up at once." Her voice was soft and sweet, almost compassionate, but there was no denying her.
Even as Sheldon stood aided by Lilith, trembling with a need he still didn't understand, Dickerson scrambled away and ran toward the carriage just over the fence.
"What is happening to me?" Sheldon asked her, his eyes wide in confusion. He wasn't normally a violent man, though he knew how to use violence to his advantage.
"You have been changed," she said simply. "I will explain everything in time. We must leave before anyone sees, my dear."
She once again reached under his arm, as she helped him toward the carriage. It's lanterns had been shuttered, but even by starlight, Sheldon could see it clearly. They came at it from behind, so at first he did not see the driver. His gaze was drawn back to Dickerson, who had taken up his position on the back rack.
"Inside, Sheldon," Lilith said, opening the door with her free hand.
Sheldon looked inside, then up. His body stiffened as he caught site of Jacob sitting in the driver's seat holding the reins. Hadn't the man died?
"You." he managed, gasping and pulling back.
Lilith's grip was firmer than Sheldon's resistance. "He works for me."
"You killed him," Sheldon told her, wondering if they were all dead and this was really hell.
"No, you can't kill a vampire by breaking his neck. You only stun him." She said this as if it was not fantastic information. "We are stronger than mortals, Sheldon. Now please get in." She emphasized her request with a little pull on his body.
Dazed, Sheldon tried to climb the step into the carriage. He ended crawling into it. The ride afterwards was dark and confusing in his mind. Lilith kept up a constant stream of conversation, explaining to him that he was no longer a mortal, but an immortal. No longer frail, but strong. Stronger than the strongest human.
She must have noticed his inability to comprehend her words, for she fell silent at last, her gaze locked upon him. "I'm glad it came to this," she said at last. "You and I will dazzle them, Sheldon dear. Of course, we'll have to change your name for a generation or two."
That made as little sense to him as the rest of what she had said. He looked into her large deceptively innocent looking eyes. Whatever caused people to fawn for his attention, to follow him around whether he wished it or not, that illusive quality of his had somehow effected Lilith. He suspected she had great power and he imagined there would be a way to entice her into sharing that power with him. Then he began to wonder if she already had.
Slowly he smiled.
Consciousness returned slowly. For someone who was used to being waited upon, used to having friends eager to do him favors, Sheldon found himself in a new and disturbing situation. He was in an enclosed area, suffocatingly small. And he wasn't breathing. Not until he took in air to yell. His screams only bounced back at him from the ceiling of his confinement mere inches above his face.
It was all he could do to maneuver an arm free and try to feel the limits of his prison. It dawned upon him quite suddenly that he was in a wooden box of some sort, padded with satin, a small pillow under his head. A coffin! His hands went to his chest. No heart beat. No wait. It was there, very faintly, and different somehow. He was clearly alive.
For a short time panic overtook his coolly logical mind. He fought against the cruel confines, beating, screaming, clawing until blood ran from his fingertips and tears slid from his eyes. Curses at the stupid world, the world that would bury a man alive just because they couldn't feel his heart beat, slowly died into an utterly intense silence.
In that silence, madness threatened him. He had memories of Lilith and the doors opening, Jacob coming in full of rage. He remembered the man at his neck, then Lilith's urgent voice. Drink. Drink. What had happened to him? There was nothing in had heard or read that could account for it. He must be dead, then. This must be what it is like. He could not imagine lying in such close quarters as his body disintegrated around him.
He closed his eyes, but had no voice left to whimper. Was it minutes, hours or days that passed? He could not tell.
Then it struck him. If he was in a totally closed box, how is it that he could see himself? His eyes flew open. He lifted a hand. There was a reddish shadow before his eyes. He could see his own hand, not well, but he could see. Where was the light source? Due to the close proximity of the coffin's lid, he was unable to raise his head more than a few inches. He gazed down at himself. It seemed that his own body was the source of the light, for the wood held nothing, the blankets nothing, but his form had a soft red glow to it, even through the clothes.
With a groan, he let his head fall and closed his eyes. Now he would truly die, abandoned by the stupidity of his family. He lay in utter silence. Visions swam into his eyes. Flashes of his life. The women. The games. The reckless abandon and controlled chances.
Into the silence came a noise. It sounded like metal clanging against metal. Taking in a deep breath of stale air, he cried out. "Help!" His fists began once again to pound at the coffin's lid. "I'm alive!" he screamed.
The noises continued. There was a crashing sound followed by footsteps.
"Help me, Dickerson." It was Lilith's voice, muffled, but Sheldon could clearly hear it.
More footsteps. Something heavy sliding just above him. A moment later the lid flew open and he found himself looking up at Lilith.
"Sheldon," she spoke softly. "My dear boy."
He grabbed hold of the sides of the coffin and tried to jump out, but his body was trembling and he needed help to sit up. There was a man with her, covered in dirt and dust, a pick-axe in his hand.
"Where am I?" Sheldon's gaze kept going to the man. Something about the filthy creature drew his attention.
"Help him out," Lilith ordered Dickerson. She turned to focus on Sheldon. "You're in your family's crypt. I had a difficult time getting onto the grounds."
"They think I'm dead?" Sheldon asked, his head swirling. Of course they did. "They buried me." Anger colored his raspy voice.
"You are not dead. Not the way you think, anyway." Her words frightened him.
"What do you mean?"
"You are undead. Vampire. Have you heard of Vampires?"
Sheldon shook his head wordlessly. She made no sense.
With an exasperated gesture, she moved with Dickerson to help Sheldon climb from the coffin. "You were dying. It was the only way I could keep you alive. Undeath. You, I think, will adjust well."
Finding himself standing beside the rise upon which his coffin rested, Sheldon began to tremble. He pulled away from Dickerson and staggered to lean against his great-grandfather's sepulcher. Indescribable weakness caused him to hold on to prevent himself from sliding to the floor.
He watched as Dickerson and Lilith, apparently incredibly strong for her petite size, closed the coffin and lifted the marble lid back into place. "We must leave," she told him. "You will come with me. I will feed you, shelter you. You are my child now, Sheldon. The life you knew is over."
"Well, that's a relief," Sheldon mumbled.
Stronger than the man, it was Lilith who put her arm under his shoulder and helped him out into the night air. A wind was blowing, cool and clean from the north. Sheldon stopped to look up at the stars. They seemed magical tonight. Their light was brighter than he'd ever seen before.
"Come on," Lilith urged. He felt her tug him forward. His unsteady feet fought to keep up with her, but his attention was focused upon the incredible things happening in the sky.
He turned his head to speak to her, to ask what had changed the stars, when his gaze fell upon Dickerson. An instinct buried deep within his newly awakening body sprang to the fore. He could smell the man, not just the stench on him, but his very life. He could imagine the man's heart pumping, the blood flowing beneath the surface of his filthy skin. Sheldon wanted that blood. He needed that blood. With a hoarse growl, he lunged for the man, falling to the graveyard mud on top of him.
"Mistress!" Dickerson yelled. He had the pick still in his hand, and used it to beat at Sheldon's head.
"No! Stop!" Lilith's voice was like the voice of God. Despite his incredible need to bite into Dickerson, Sheldon froze. Dickerson likewise halted his attempt to struggle free.
"Sheldon, dear, he's my servant. You may not have him. I have someone for you. Now get up at once." Her voice was soft and sweet, almost compassionate, but there was no denying her.
Even as Sheldon stood aided by Lilith, trembling with a need he still didn't understand, Dickerson scrambled away and ran toward the carriage just over the fence.
"What is happening to me?" Sheldon asked her, his eyes wide in confusion. He wasn't normally a violent man, though he knew how to use violence to his advantage.
"You have been changed," she said simply. "I will explain everything in time. We must leave before anyone sees, my dear."
She once again reached under his arm, as she helped him toward the carriage. It's lanterns had been shuttered, but even by starlight, Sheldon could see it clearly. They came at it from behind, so at first he did not see the driver. His gaze was drawn back to Dickerson, who had taken up his position on the back rack.
"Inside, Sheldon," Lilith said, opening the door with her free hand.
Sheldon looked inside, then up. His body stiffened as he caught site of Jacob sitting in the driver's seat holding the reins. Hadn't the man died?
"You." he managed, gasping and pulling back.
Lilith's grip was firmer than Sheldon's resistance. "He works for me."
"You killed him," Sheldon told her, wondering if they were all dead and this was really hell.
"No, you can't kill a vampire by breaking his neck. You only stun him." She said this as if it was not fantastic information. "We are stronger than mortals, Sheldon. Now please get in." She emphasized her request with a little pull on his body.
Dazed, Sheldon tried to climb the step into the carriage. He ended crawling into it. The ride afterwards was dark and confusing in his mind. Lilith kept up a constant stream of conversation, explaining to him that he was no longer a mortal, but an immortal. No longer frail, but strong. Stronger than the strongest human.
She must have noticed his inability to comprehend her words, for she fell silent at last, her gaze locked upon him. "I'm glad it came to this," she said at last. "You and I will dazzle them, Sheldon dear. Of course, we'll have to change your name for a generation or two."
That made as little sense to him as the rest of what she had said. He looked into her large deceptively innocent looking eyes. Whatever caused people to fawn for his attention, to follow him around whether he wished it or not, that illusive quality of his had somehow effected Lilith. He suspected she had great power and he imagined there would be a way to entice her into sharing that power with him. Then he began to wonder if she already had.
Slowly he smiled.