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Chuck Versus The Dracula Homage
By Liam
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London, England
Estate of The Duchess of Carlyle
It was an hour after sunset. The estate was calm, quiet, peaceful. Perhaps too much so. For if one listened closely, he or she would notice the distinct lack of sounds made by insects or other wildlife.
A black limousine arrived at the heavy iron gates blocking the only entrance. Two armed sentries, clad in crisp black uniforms, dutifully opened the gate and allowed the limo entrance. After traveling down a long drive, the vehicle eventually reached a stop outside the main entrance of the Victorian mansion.
Three staff persons appeared, the first moving to open the limo's door, the others to retrieve luggage from the trunk.
"Greetings, sir," the first staff person, a lovely young Asian woman, said. "My name is Anna. Welcome to the home of the Duchess Sarah Walker."
"Thank you, Anna," Morgan drawled, noting her uniform skirt appeared to be altered shorter than regulation.
Near the trunk, the other two staff persons fought over who would carry the lighter bags. "Jeff! Lester!" Anna admonished. "Is that any way to behave before Duchess Sarah's guest?"
The two men stopped fighting and split up the baggage. As Morgan literally followed behind Anna – so as to better enjoy the view – Lester whispered to Jeff.
"You suck."
"I will shank you, boy."
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Morgan sat in the reception room, slightly unnerved by Jeff and Lester, the men exchanging secretive whispers while casting the occasional eye in his direction. It was Anna who ultimately informed him of the Duchess' arrival.
"Mr. Grimes, allow me to present the Duchess of Carlyle, the Venerable Sarah Walker."
From upon the stairs, a true vision of feminine beauty appeared. A striking blonde, hair swept up into a neat bob. Sharp blue eyes, highlighted by the flowing cobalt blue gown she wore, which also served to highlight her creamy, pale skin. Her neck was adorned with a necklace befitting royalty, comprised of diamonds and other precious stones.
"Mr. Grimes," the Duchess greeted warmly. Her soft English accent was colored by the presence of another, perhaps Eastern European. "How was your flight?"
"Very well, madam," Morgan said with appropriate deference. When Sarah offered a delicate hand, Morgan offered it a brief kiss.
"Please, call me Sarah. Have a seat, won't you?" She turned to her staff. "Anna? Would you please fix Mr. Grimes a drink? I'm sure he could use one. Jeff, Lester, please see that supper will be ready on time. After his long journey, I'm sure Mr. Grimes must be famished."
The men went off to do their Mistress' bidding. Anna dutifully poured Morgan a glass of cognac.
"Then it would be an honor if you called me Morgan, Sarah," he informed the Duchess.
"Thank you, Morgan," Sarah smiled. "Now, shall we discuss business?"
"Ah yes!" Morgan cried, reaching for his laptop case. "Big Mike says you're quite interested in some real estate just outside Los Angeles."
"Big Mike?" Sarah curiously asked.
Morgan actually blushed at his slip. "My boss. It's an affectionate nickname we use for him. He's larger than life, in so many ways." In a few moments, Morgan had the laptop fired up and was bringing up land charts. "Here it is," he showed. "Nearly 200 acres of land, just off the freeway. A perfect construction site for whatever the lady has in mind."
Sarah smiled, pleased.
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After supper, Sarah and Morgan retired upstairs to her office. As he stood on the balcony, staring up at the starry night, Sarah returned with a glass of wine.
"As a loyal client," Morgan began, "Mike is willing to sell you the land at a discounted price. Perhaps 10 million."
Sarah kindly brushed away such thoughts. "Oh, whatever Michael feels is fair is fine by me. Now please, let us dispense with talks of business."
"Uh…okay."
"Tell me, Morgan, is Los Angeles truly as sunny as they say?"
"Indeed. It's quite gorgeous. I'm sure the lady would find it quite hospitable."
Sarah frowned. "Actually, I'm not such a fan. I'm so pleased we live in an age of glass panels that offer complete UV protection."
Morgan curiously glanced at the Duchess upon the strange comment.
"This is a vintage wine. I hope you enjoy it," Sarah said.
"Thank you," Morgan said, accepting the glass. "Aren't you drinking?"
Sarah smiled. "Oh, I never drink…wine."
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In a parlor, directly below the Duchess' office, a card game was in progress between Anna, Lester, and Jeff. From above, they heard Morgan's screams.
"Oh God! Are you biting me?!" A strange pause. "OH GOD! YOU ARE BITING ME! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?! AAAGGGHHHH!"
Anna shook her head. "Mistress' standards are lowering," she mourned.
"I wish Mistress would bite me," Jeff leered.
"Shut up, Jeff," Anna snapped.
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Back in her office, Sarah sat on the balcony, her wine glass now full of warm, red liquid. Morgan appeared behind her, his suit rumpled, his hair disheveled, an empty and listless gaze in his eyes.
"Morgan," she cheerfully called. "Would you be a dear and inform Anna that I wish for my jet to be prepared? I want to see this property before I purchase."
"Yes, Mistress."
About his head, a fly buzzed. With sharp reflexes, Morgan snagged the fly from midair and shoved it into his mouth, devouring the insect. Sarah made a disgusted face and sipped from her glass.
"Morgan, that's just gross. Please, refrain from doing that in my presence."
"Yes, Mistress."
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Los Angeles International Airport
Private Terminal
11:17 PM
"Oof!" the runway attendant bemoaned. "What the hell's in this thing, a body?"
The other attendant helped him maneuver the six-foot long wooden crate on a cart. "No kidding. And if it's a body, must be a fat chick."
"Hey!" Anna shouted at the attendants as she disembarked the plane. "Be careful with that crate!"
Across the tarmac Morgan awkwardly galloped. He stopped before the cart, gazing loving at the wooden crate, and then embraced it, practically lying atop the box.
"My Mistress," he cooed.
The attendants stared at Morgan, then looked to Anna. "Should he be off his leash?" one asked.
"Or his meds?" the other asked.
"Just focus on your tasks," Anna commanded. "And don't worry about our friend. He's overcome by the death of his mother."
Both attendants startled and took a step away from the box.
"Why don't we attend to the paperwork while my associates deal with the cargo?" Anna indicated Jeff and Lester, two trustworthy fellows as the attendants ever saw. They nodded and escorted Anna to the terminal gate.
Inside the terminal, Anna performed her business with the employee inside.
"Demeter," the woman said, examining the paperwork. "It's a lovely name for an aircraft." She handed over a clipboard for Anna's inspection. "If you'll please examine the manifest, check to see your cargo is accounted for and the travel itinerary is correct, and then sign."
Anna examined the manifest closely. She nodded in approval. "Everything looks in order. But I'm afraid I can't sign."
"Oh?"
"Yes, I'm afraid my Mistress doesn't like leaving a paper trail."
"Your Mistress?"
On cue, Sarah strode into the terminal, her male lackeys trailing behind. There was a thin trail of blood dribbling from the left corner of her mouth. "Anna? Are we ready?"
In a swift move, Anna captured the pretty young worker and wrenched the girl's arm behind her back. "Yes Mistress. I've even secured a meal for you after your long journey."
"Oh, Anna, thank you. Those tarmac workers were so high in cholesterol."
Anna gave the young worker over to her Mistress, who happily fed. Jeff, Lester, and Morgan dragged the bodies of the runway attendants in. As Sarah finished eating, she told the boys, "Oh, just leave them anywhere. I'm sure the janitors will clean them up."
While everyone's attention was diverted, one of the runway attendants – not quite dead – tabbed his radio. "Security," he croaked. "Emergency. Private Terminal Three." The attendant then expired in dramatic fashion.
"Mistress," Anna implored. "You must leave. Security will no doubt arrive shortly."
Realizing Anna was right, Sarah turned to her newest servant. "Morgan, would you be a dear and do me a favor?"
Morgan bounced excitedly, like a puppy. "Anything, Mistress."
Very kindly, Sarah smiled upon him. "Morgan, I need you to hold up security so we can leave. Can you do that for me?"
"Of course!" Morgan exclaimed. "Anything for Mistress."