Disclaimer: I'm writing on FFN...shouldn't that be a clue?
Hello all!
Sorry it's short but considering that my schedule might pick up a bit in the next week or two I figured I might as well get this out while I could. Short but with some important stuff.
Many thanks to all those who have reviewed. I never really expected so much responseand I truly appreciate it.
Anyway, moving on...
The cellar was a small place for aggravated vampires. Some lay dying, some lay with desperate hopes of recovery, some nursed wounds, some leant against the wall, some still paced about the room, Ezekiel moved from one group to the next humming a little tune. Philippe moved his hand gently over his old bandages, none of his injuries much improved, and closed his eyes. With a sudden jolt, he snapped his eyes open and stood a little taller before the sensation passed and he relaxed again, a smirk settled firmly on his face. Now there were soon to be two vampires in Christine's room. The others would find out later, Philippe reasoned, keeping his information to himself for now.
Ezekiel plodded over: "You know something," he chirped.
"Perhaps I do."
"Don't worry. I won't tell," he promised, grinning wildly.
"We wouldn't want to spoil it anyway."
"Have you ever noticed that your teeth are really pointy?"
Philippe glanced at Ezekiel, whose eyes were glazed in an odd manner.
"Have you found some old wine hidden down here that I've missed or are you really off your rocker?"
"Yes and no," he replied, momentarily serious. "You should fetch him before someone else tries to. The girl will be fine for a while."
"How did you—"
The look of concentration melted from Ezekiel's face. "How did I what? Didn't you have somewhere you said you needed to be? The tooth-puller might take an extra tooth if you're late. He can file those sharp teeth nice and flat and proper."
Philippe raised an eyebrow but then succumbed to a hearty laugh before slapping Ezekiel on the back and making his way toward the stairs. Crazy, perhaps, but he did get a point across when he needed to.
Closing his eyes, Philippe reached out with his mind, searching for the right room. Satisfied, he opened his eyes and marched determinedly four rooms down and cracked the door open slowly, just enough to slide in. Erik stood with his back to the door but was aware of an intruder. When Philippe placed his hand on Erik's shoulder, Erik grasped it and twisted it sharply while Philippe sunk to one knee.
"I relent! I concede! I surrender! Let go of my hand!"
Erik released him. "You know the saying, better safe then sorry."
"You knew damn-well it was me."
"All the same, you shouldn't sneak up on people…especially those who know where you sleep at night."
"Harsh. I'm so glad that you're on my side, threatening to kill me in my sleep and all that. With friends like you, who needs—"
Erik shushed him with a finger to his lips, inclining his head toward Christine's body.
"Why? She'd sleep through the apocalypse at this point. Not that I'd want to find out, mind you. Watch. CHRISTINE! Wake up! You're on in five minutes! See? Nothing."
Erik rolled his eyes. "What do you want?"
"You should come downstairs. They'll be wondering about you soon, Sebastian saw us coming toward the manor earlier, all three of us, mind you. Plus, you were going to explain the strange ball of light?"
Erik nodded slowly then glanced back at Christine.
"She'll be fine, Erik. She'll be out cold for another hour or two at the very least. There's nothing you can do, might as well appease his high-and-mighty, Donald."
Pulling the blanket across her body, Erik kissed Christine's temple and murmured a promise of return before following after Philippe back to the crowded den.
None acknowledged his presence immediately until Donald strode over, obviously displeased. "Do you care to explain?"
Erik met his glare with equal intensity and bit back a retort. Donald stood motionless for a moment then smacked Erik smartly across the face. Erik slowly turned back and placed his mask back in proper alignment.
"Don't do that again," he hissed.
"You will not order me. Where did you run off to this time?"
"I chased after one that ran from the fray."
"And you didn't return?"
Erik didn't answer the question but altered the subject. "The werewolves aren't responsible for their actions."
"Have you any proof?" Donald asked, anger deflected for the moment.
"Sprites. They're forcing the transformation and directing them."
"Aleta, can you confirm?" Donald shot over his shoulder. Aleta straightened a bandage on an unconscious vampire then rose elegantly, carefully calculating Erik.
"He speaks the truth."
"Damn," Donald muttered. "Did anyone else witness anything peculiar tonight?"
"Before or after they started using tactics?" Sebastian grumbled. "No beast that dangerous should be so clever."
"Describe exactly what you saw," Donald ordered, sharing a significant look with the other elders of the Circle.
Erik sighed but saw it best to cooperate for the time being. "It was a ball of light that came out from behind the werewolf's ear. It talked to me, I'm not sure how. It tried to get into my head but—"
"Then he could be infected," someone exclaimed.
"He's not," Ezekiel blurted in the middle of a giggle.
"But anyone could be," Erik added.
"I see," Donald deadpanned, fingers steepled together against his lips. "And you have brought their anger upon us?"
Margaret leapt up, "What have you done? We can't fight them."
Dane ushered her back to her pallet.
The thoughts clicked together in Erik's mind. Philippe spoke up first, "So this has happened before."
No one had to confirm it, the truth was plainly writ on their features.
"The werewolves will regroup tonight and likely rally their forces, though I daresay some others will have added to their number, werewolf, human, or whatever else the sprites have taken. We'll stay here for another night then we'll find another haven. No doubt they already know our hiding place. Everyone who can't survive the journey will have to stay here."
"How do we know that they won't come looking for us before then?" Annabelle called.
"We don't," Dane added simply.
A thought struck Erik: "What about the other people in the house?"
"What about them?" Sebastian bit back, sharply. "They'll slow the monsters down."
Erik's features darkened and Sebastian wisely didn't say any more.
Ezekiel disrupted the tension with a strange cry of "Ack!"
"What's wrong?" Donald asked.
"He's not supposed to be here…" Ezekiel spoke carefully, as though analyzing each word.
The door to the cellar burst open. Irving dashed down the stairs. "Vampire hunters! Looks like the Belmont family…"
"Oh, this just gets better and better," Sebastian muttered.
Annabelle sighed, "We're lucky to have gone this long without being found out."
Ezekiel reached over and snagged Erik's collar, pointing a gnarly finger toward Irving, "He's infected." Erik nodded his understanding and Ezekiel let him go, returning to his own world.
Donald left Dane in charge and went to speak with their host. All that were able readied themselves for the possibility of invaders, blending carefully into the shadows and waiting.
Donald returned a few moments later, trying to suppress his frustration. Those hiding returned and awaited their commands. "I was too late. He's already offered them a room. The Baron hasn't betrayed our presence but this won't make matters any easier. No one will leave the cellar for their own safety and the safety of everyone here." He looked pointedly at Erik, "No exceptions."
Authoress Rambling: Of course, Erik is just going to listen to that edict and behave like a good little boy...don't worry, he won't take that crap for too long.
Next chapter will start with Christine...once I get to writing it. :)
And as always, Love it or hate it, please let me know! (Reviewers recieve authentic creepy candelabras that stay lit regardless ofwhether it's been submerged in a lake or sitting on your dining table, compliments of the Erik and Philippe Fan club)