Sympathy for the Undead
By:
Saslyax
Chapter II
"Vampire Sympathizer"
My heart is light from relief; we all managed to escape Rookery unscathed. If I weren't this merry I would be completely furious at Freda. My moment of lighthearted bliss is very transient. My hardened mind quickly reminds me of the many close calls, and poor decision-making; Freda's foolish thinking could have gotten the entire family staked! She had ample time to hide with Rookery's full attention on me.
When I receive a slight opening and escape I am unpleasantly surprised to witness my entire clan hovering around the entrance to our crypt like moths to a dangerous flame.
Freda anxiously awaits my safe return, Gregory is ready to drain Rookery, and then stake the hunter with his own weapon, Anna fawns over her human knight, and Rudolph keeps a concerned eye on both me and his human.
I exert my wavering energy, to herd them into the deeper chambers of the tomb.
The facts are right in front of me: Every single one of them would have run right into their executioner's arms, had that stake met my flesh. Indecision was the only thing holding them back. My death would've been enough of an incentive to allow their emotions to blind their reason and chase after fantasies of revenge.
How foolish!
If it weren't for that child, no, I refuse to let my mind meander back to that human! I hastily redirect my thoughts onto Freda and her rash actions, "You waited for me when I deliberately ordered you to flee," I grit out through clenched teeth. "You put the children and yourself in needless danger!"
"Dear, lets be rational." Freda's voice is strained, and the air crackles from the tension radiating off of the two to us. "You know I could never leave your side, and the children are certainly old enough to make their own decisions."
I scoff. That's hardly a valid point. The children certainly don't act it most of the time.
"Your words do not bind us to your every whim!" Freda shrieks.
Her honey-brown gaze hardens like muddy ice and burns like hellfire. I manage to infuriate the composed Freda. It's a task I am highly proud of at the present moment. I finally dug underneath her calm and flawless skin. Her anger is so delicious. If I weren't cursed to this cold, unfeeling death I would make little haste, and unleash my bottled up rage in a session of angry, heated passion.
"We," Freda motions to her and the children, "should be the angry ones here. You'd throw your own life away for empty matters. Besides, that is the less pressing concern here. How could you abandon that child when he saved your life! Doesn't that prove his loyalty to you? You know, Rookery won't hesitate-!"
Her words are rushed. They drown in the emotion she invests into this human. It's disgraceful, weak, and objectionable. Damn Freda and her unsightly attachment towards the boy.
"Enough!" My single word slices through Freda's rambling, and resonates within the chamber. My angry word slowly fades away and loses its potency.
"No! It's not 'enough'! How could you leave Tony? After everything he's done for me, for you, for us vampires! You owe him your life for what he's done!" Rage pours off of my son and floods the crypt. Rudolph bares his fangs at me and his eyes flash red as he slowly loses command of his emotions, and becomes enveloped within passion.
I feel his fury and overflowing worry. I know the two emotions very well. I fear what they will do to his sanity. What if he runs outside to protect his little human in a suicidal act? I growl. I refuse to let my son walk right into the hunter's grasp.
"Rudolph, I forbid you to throw your life away for some human."
"Frederick, I never took you to be so cowardly, yet here you are running from your emotions. You are such a hypocrite. It's a sickening sight to witness," Freda says.
My ears ache. I can barely hear a thing with Freda and Rudolph double-teaming me with their relentless shouting, aiming their sharpened insults at my heart. Surely, Rookery has heard our inane squabbling. All of Scotland probably has.
"Unlike you, I refuse to dishonor my name by abandoning a friend!" Rudolph's fists are tightly clenched, and he fixates his icy glare at me. "I hate you so much."
My mood travels south. It wounds me to hear those words fly out of my son's mouth. Yet, he has a perfect reason to hate me; Rudolph speaks the truth after all. I haven't acted this lowly in centuries. Honor is something I never like to tarnish. It's the reason why I drifted my family off of human blood. How can I be so hateful and untrusting towards the thing I claim I want to become again? Freda speaks the truth as well.
Finally managing to cease my torrent of senselessness, I detect that Anna is close to tears after witnessing our bitter argument. Gregory remains silent and calculating, but I have an inkling he wouldn't immediately lust after the child's blood, if he ever saw the human again.
Not a single soul sides with me. I must swallow my swelling pride and admit defeat on this matter; my family is sound in their judgment. My jaded thinking and narrow mindedness causes me to fall closer to the monster opposing us, Rookery. I feel soiled inside at the mere thought that my distrust for humans nearly mirrors his hatred for us vampires.
High tension still fills the stale air. One wrong word could detonate another round of fury spats: with Freda and Rudolph so close to the edge, and with my unstable hold of my wrath at the present moment. I am still very adamant on locking Rudolph down here, so he will not get himself killed.
Through universal irony, the child crashes down into our hollow. Rudolph wastes very little time, and sprints over to the skylight opening to greet his human. At least the human diffuses our family moment of lunacy, especially since the enemy is so near. I find it funny that the child restores our rationality and makes the air breathable again, especially when he is the cause of our uproar.
My son's happy reunion with his human is cut short when Rookery fires a flare down into our home.
Instinctively, I lift my cape to shield my family and myself from the fierce light illuminating the cavernous room. Rudolph manages to duck for cover, at the last second. The child gapes at the dark elegance of our underground hideaway when the light permits his eyes to study it in more detail.
The light is quick to die, and the friendly darkness eats all previous traces of its harsh brightness. My keen senses return with the shadows and remain sharp as swords until I hear Rookery's receding footsteps. I mentally praise the grave keeper for possessing the gall to kick Rookery's ass out of my turf.
I relax a bit, knowing we are given a temporary moment of reprieve from the tiresome games of cat and mouse. My attention promptly fixates onto the child.
Standing tall, I approach him. Every fiber in my being protests the idea of trusting a mortal, but I am willing to give the child a chance to prove his worth to me. The boy's actions seem sincere, his eyes hold innocence, but I will not dismiss my gut instincts so lightly. I still cling to a shard of suspicion.
Masking my inner turmoil and all evidence of compassion, I slip into my cold demeanor once more as I near the newcomer. Only the trustworthy deserve to witness my kindness and concern.
I reprimand the child in a stern tone, "What you did was foolish," I refer to his lack of self-preservation, and thoughtless bravado. It is insane to be willing to squander his long lifespan, for a human at least, for complete strangers.
Freda gives me a reprimanding look for my blunt response. "Foolish, but brave," she corrects in complete awe. The child clearly impresses her; I don't know whether I should feel as impressed too, or envious at the high praise he receives from my lovely.
Intently scrutinizing the child, I eye his every move, his every breath, trying to spot or sniff out any signs of deceit, or glean the good within his soul. In no time, I soon see a suspicious act. The human's eyes draw towards my amulet, like metal to a magnet. The child's hand slowly reaches out and clamps onto the dangling silver.
The nerve of this mortal!
Reacting on pure, protective instinct my hand claws onto the mortal's. I am ready to crush his fingers, sever his hand, and snap his neck, anything, if he endangers my family's chance at salvation.
Images of some far off realm overload my senses. I am no longer before the impudent mortal. I am in a world that flickers in and out of focus; the colors fade and then return with much more intensity. Everything around me feels like a very vivid and surreal dream. My mind is given very little time to ponder the facts. It is chained to the core of this place, forced to simply go along for the ride and silently observe.
The landscape is eerily empty, void of any sentient life, but I soon glimpse a gorgeous goddess ride in at twilight's fall. Her eyes lock onto some unknown form as she approaches a crevice in the cliff. She pulls on the reigns, and gracefully descends from her beautiful white stallion.
My vision zooms onto the woman as she drapes her scarlet, riding cape over a prone man's body to raise his ice-cold body temperature. I notice the strange coat of arms. I have seen many family crests, being an aristocrat, but this crest is completely foreign to me.
My thoughts snap back to the woman, and are forbidden to stray from the scene. She glimpses a ruby glint in the man's firm grasp. She gently unhinges the stranger's prying grip. She carefully picks up the Stone of Attamon, fully entranced by its beauty and overflowing power.
My eyes widen.
The man instinctively awakens and hisses heatedly; his fangs protrude forward as he seizes the woman's hand, much like I did with the child. It is then that I recognize the man, Von!
Their eyes briefly lock and the gazes become glossy. Their faces blur as the vision is at its termination.
Before this world fades back into the past's iron clad vault, vague thoughts, memories, and intense emotions, not my own, briefly barrage into my vulnerable mind. It is so haste. I can barely discern the meaning of a single sliver of the memory fragments. Just as quickly the assault ends, it jerks me back into the grim, colorless cemetery.
This is impossible! It is a mere legend. A nearly dead fairytale. A rumor spread like the plague centuries ago! My family gives me worried looks, and the child stumbles back in dazed confusion.
"…We shared a vision," I clarify in scarcely contained amazement.
"He shares a sympathy for our kind!" Freda is simply overjoyed.
I retell the strange vision to my family, though they can never truly understand the sentiment and experience I felt. Mere words couldn't replicate that. This vision has helped me greatly. It is a huge piece to the grand puzzle, and I know that woman is key to unlocking all of the answers. I saw her and Von's blank gaze at the end; she too is a sympathizer.
I announce my concise plans for finding the stone.
"I can help," the child insists brightly at the prospect of further aiding us.
The child may be a sympathizer, but that does not make him indubitably loyal to my family. I'd rather he go home and forget this night ever happened. He helped us greatly, but his presence will only impede our search and possibly shine unwanted attention onto us, intentional or not. The boy is eight, filled with naivety, and far to young to involve in these pressing matters.
I brush the sympathizer off with my default cold aloofness, "It's too risky to involve a mortal."
"What have we got to lose? We've been searching for three centuries." Rudolph says, desperation wavers within his tone. A slight tinge of the resent he showed me earlier is present in his statement, even though he has calmed down into his more passive behavior.
Faint, lingering leftovers of my previous anger seeps back within me. I grow spiteful that my son is just as loyal to the human as he is to his family. Family should easily trump this flimsy bond he has with this mortal!
Irate, I reprimand, "This is what comes from contact with mortals: Disrespect! Insolence!"
"Frederick, he does have a point," Freda says with that damn smile of hers.
Deep down I know that. I know it to be helpful to have human allies, but it still does not erase my conflicting feelings on the matter. I just have to put my faith in Rudolph and his trust in his friend. I have to let Rudolph grow up and make his own decisions, for once. He is old enough to fly on his own without me holding his wings.
However, that does not mean my anger at Rudolph's disrespect has disappeared, or that I will embrace the sympathizer in a loving hug.
Cutting Rudolph's chastisement short, I firmly declare, "Alright, help if you can, but do not think to change your mind and betray us to our most hateful enemy, or my wrath will be unveiled! Am I clear?"
Throughout my statement I menacingly approach the child, and he clumsily trips over the stairs in his feeble attempt to keep his distant from me.
The child doesn't reply to my question, and I give him a fierce glare to elicit a response. The boy's fright spikes, and he nods his head so wildly I fear it will disconnect from his spine.
Eager to leave, the sympathizer turns towards the exit. Rudolph shadows his human's footsteps. Before they leave I advise, "I must warn you. My trust is something only a few, select individuals have been lucky enough to earn throughout my many years of life. You better not take my gift lightly." The child fiercely nods again before scampering outside, with Rudolph trailing behind.
"I think my father really likes you." I hear my son say to his human friend, as he escorts the boy home.
There is no contempt in his words as he tries to enlighten the human on my callous on the outside, sympathetic on the inside nature. Rudolph is sharp on things like that, just like his mother. Things may be a bit awkward between us when my son returns, but I know our petty argument will not leave any long lasting aftershocks within our relationship.
Freda gives me a forgiving look before she lightly brushes her lips against my own. "I am glad you are giving the child a chance, but I think you were a bit too hard on him."
Freda senses my tenseness and nods at me. I need to be alone for a while, to ponder the night's tiresome events, and she knows it of course.
I glower slightly that she dismisses me, but I am too worn to really care.
I leave my family's company and venture deeper into the underground crypt. I am sure Gregory will follow suit and go off on his own, to think, and Anna might need some consolation from her mother after all of tonight's drama.
Once alone, my thoughts race:
A vampire and a human sharing a vision is an extremely rare occurrence. There have only been a few claims of it happening in history. None are that reliable, but it did succeed in fueling the hysteria and stakings centuries ago.
Only a true sympathizer will be able to foresee events to aid a vampire's quest and be willing to let one of the undead glimpse at their heart before the connection brakes. This child is a true sympathizer for the undead.
My guilt grows as I replay the night's previous occurrences. I left a boy, a mere child, on his own to fend off Rookery. Me, of all people, should know the consequences. I should have acted differently. I was there when the vampire hysterics were most potent. Sympathizers burned along with the vampires for "being under their devilish spell." I know for a fact, Rookery will not hesitate to kill a sympathizer, even if it is a child.
I am such a hypocrite, to be so callous towards the child. I acted rashly, jumped to irrational conclusions. It was most likely a mere coincidence that Rookery and the child showed up on the same night. Hell, it could have been my own sloppiness, or Rookery's increasing cleverness.
Then, I forbade Rudolph from honoring his bond and trust in his human. It's against everything I've taught him: Honor is something you should never tarnish, Rudolph.
Rudolph would die for the boy. The child would die for my son. Just like I would relinquish my life over and over to save my family's. Sacrifice follows along with family and my trust. I cannot always be the sacrifice; it is the harsh truth I must learn to accept.
I know I was overly insensitive with the child, but it is part of whom I am. I distrust and act cold towards anyone outside my small circle. I doubt the child knows it, but he managed to grab an ounce of my respect and trust. I hope he treasures it, nurses it tenderly, and guards that shard with as much ferocity as I would.
I have high hopes. The sympathizer better not shatter them.
My eyes rest, but my minds never stops replaying that vision we shared. I think of the crest. It reads, "Solo animo at manuforti." I need to find which family the woman belongs to. It taunts my brain and reminds me of the mere 48 hours I have left to find the source of our salvation.
Alone in spirit, but with strong hand.
I know many a crest, but this one is cruelly unfamiliar to me. Maybe I need the sympathizer's assistance after all.
To be continued…
Yeah, so I lied last chapter… I can't fit all everything I want into one more chapter. Well, technically I could, but it'd be really long. So I'm thinking 4 chapters in all. This was actually supposed to be part of chapter one, but it was getting too long and aggravating so I split it up.
Hopefully, I can keep my ass in gear and won't slack off with this fic. I have a tendency to do that… "-
In this chapter I took more artistic liberties in the beginning scene. I hope it fits in here, and doesn't sound too off since the rest mirrors the movie, cause the chances of this actually happening is slim. We never really get to see the Sackville-Bagg family feuds. We get a glimpse with Frederick and Gregory and Rudolph. I think their fights could get ruthless and they must have them. I mean spending 300 years with the same people they're bound to be at each others throats, but at the same time still extremely loving and loyal to each other.
So far Frederick's thoughts have been really focused on Freda, Tony, and Rudolph. So for the next two chapters there'll be more interactions with Frederick and Gregory and Anna (I don't want to leave them out), but Frederick's won't forget about Tony.
Anyway, if it isn't too much trouble leave a review! They really make my day, and I'd love to know what you think. Constructive crit is helpful too. Thanks for reading!
Posted: 3-21-10
Revised: 8-18-13