A couple of vampires out at their door.
That's what George had said, right? He couldn't have misheard him.
Now that put things into perspective.
Two amoral murderous blood-sucking undead beings members of his demonic family standing at the entrance of his safe haven.
Talk about unwanted distant relatives dropping by.
And that would definitely trump sexual frustration.
"Just give me a second." Mitchell said changing his demeanour instantly.
He closed the door and found himself alone in the room. He quickly grabbed a button-up shirt from the floor and put in on as he went outside to find George exactly where he had left him.
"What did they say?" The concern was visible on his face.
"They asked if I have accepted Jesus Christ as my personal saviour... What do you think they asked? They said: 'We're here to see Mitchell. Can we come in?' I obviously didn't and came to get you."
Impatient knocking on the door interrupted them so they went downstairs and Mitchell managed to button two or three buttons of his shirt. Once in front of the door both men looked at each other and nodded before Mitchell reached for the doorknob.
He wasn't expecting the two smiling faces outside his door when he opened it. "Ivan? Daisy?" He asked disconcerted.
"Hello gorgeous. Can we come in?" Daisy asked.
"Hell no! What do you think you are doing coming to my house?"
"My friend you really want to hear what we have to say." Ivan stated laconically.
"You're not inviting them in, are you Mitchell?" George asked worriedly from behind the door.
"George I assume." Ivan asked as he pushed the door to reveal the werewolf. "This involves you too, I think you'd want to know about your attackers."
"Did you find them?" Mitchell asked throwing the door completely open.
"Sort of." He replied inscrutably.
Mitchell considered his options and despite George's unspoken plea he yielded.
"Okay... Come in."
"Mitchell!" George shrieked.
"We have no option George."
The couple came inside remaining in the entryway.
"This is place is just so... peculiar. Cosy really..." The tall male vampire commented diplomatically.
"It's kind of a dump." The wispy one commented while picking up odds and ends from table next to the entrance where the telephone rested.
"Daisy, please do not touch anything." Mitchell admonished her.
"Are you afraid I might break something? How would you know?" The redhead asked jabbing them both.
"We'd know. Please put that down." George said taking the objects from her hands and settling them back down.
"I'm Daisy by the way. I've been meaning to meet you." She said leaning in.
"Daisy!"
"I'm just introducing myself... John."
"Why don't we all go to the parlour?" Mitchell suggested visibly anxious.
Mitchell waited as his guests followed George into the room, he then noticed Annie standing in the shade on the stairs her face darkened and her arms crossed over her chest.
"Annie. I didn't see you there. Care to join us?"
"After you... John."
He had never warmed up to his baptismal name. Those who loved him, the very few, had never called him by the name. His own mother refrain since that had been the name of the father he never met. His mother called him "dear, love, my boy..." never John.
His brothers in arms had called him Mitchell. John was the name of the despicable legend.
He noted in the tone she had used her discontent at what she interpreted as intimacy on the use of his first name.
How could he explain to her that he never wanted to hear that horrid name uttered by her lips?
"Annie!"
"Why was she calling you John?"
"She's just... It's nothing okay? She just wants to get on my nerves and she's succeeding."
His fingers reached for the fine knitting of her cardigan on her wrist and pulled her towards him. 'There will be time to explain' he thought and he hoped she could read it in his eyes. Now, he only wanted Ivan and Daisy out as soon as possible.
His fingers had intertwined with hers and he was silently asking her to join them.
Annie reluctantly walked into the room.
"Mitchell, care to introduce us?" The well-mannered vampire requested.
"This is Ivan and his 'lovely' wife Daisy. These are my house mates George and Annie, this is her house."
"You're Annie? You're like a little doll. What a cute little play thing! No wonder why you've been so worked up lately." Daisy teased Mitchell.
"Are all female vampires sociopathic condescending nymphos?" Annie asked turning her head slightly.
"Have we been reading encyclopaedias at night when we're not having fun experimenting with a bit of fang?"
"Daisy! Can it." Mitchell admonished while Annie mouthed the word 'bitch'.
"Mitchell, I think maybe you and I should talk in private."
"No, hang on. You said this concerns me. I want to hear what you have to say." George intervened.
"Daisy love, could you find me a cup of tea?"
"You're joking right? You know I don't do the domestic thing."
"Daisy."
"Fine. But I'm not promising not to break anything."
"Oh no you're not going to break my china. I'll... help you." Annie offered reluctantly.
Mitchell stopped her as she walked by her and whispered 'Thank you.'
"Did you find George's attackers?" He asked then turning back at Ivan.
"No."
"So why in the name of Jesus would you come to my home at this time at night?"
"Someone left a parcel for you at the undertakers."
"A bloody parcel? You're moonlighting as a FedEx delivery man now?"
"So, I'm up at this unholy hour because a vampire left a package for you? Have you vampires ever heard of texting? Unbelievable!" George exclaimed.
"You tell me if it wasn't appropriate for me to bring you this at this time." Ivan replied handing out a small box.
"What is it?" George asked as Mitchell opened it.
"Fangs."
"Is that a joke? Fake fangs?"
"No. These are real. Two sets."
"Who would send something like that? That's really disturbing. Not to mention unhygienic."
"I don't know. Who left this for me Ivan?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you that my friend. Dylan found it at the door. It came with this note addressed to you. I opened both, I hope you don't mind."
"What does it say?" George inquired.
"Arthur and Holly are dead."
"I'd say you have a very creepy groupie." His friend commented.
"But why me?"
"You put the word out that you were looking for them." Ivan theorised.
"I didn't say that it was dead or alive."
"So... Someone wants to impress you?" George asked.
"I reckon it's more of a threat." Mitchell said knowingly.
In the kitchen Annie was oblivious to what happened in the living room. Through the window she could see the three males gathered closely looking at something out of her sight.
"So... You've known Mitchell for a long time." Annie asked turning back her attention to the electric kettle and at her uninvited guest.
"Define long, love..." Daisy said smiling mischievously as she jumped to sit on the counter closer to the stove. "Time is a tricky thing for our kind... But, yeah, I've known Mitchell for a while... Big bad John." She said over enunciating each one of the words.
"John...?" Annie said turning her attention to her tea box not really looking for a sachet but moving them about and lifting her eyebrows.
"Wait..." Daisy spoke leaning forward. "Are you asking if we have shagged?"
"I really didn't..." Annie replied shaking her head nervously.
"Were you jealous? That's rich... I don't know... There were some parties in the sixties... Plenty of people involved so it's possible, you know how experimental those years were."
"It's not like that."
"Oh love, do not confuse that little head of yours. Mitchell can't befriend women."
"He did it with me... I mean... He cares about me."
"You're close I'm sure. But he's not your friend... And he doesn't want to be your friend."
"And how would you know that?" She asked with contempt.
"Decades of knowing him... And of course the long legend that trails John Mitchell."
"So he used to be a bit of a ladies man... besides a killer... I knew that... And God knows he's easy on the eyes... But he's changed."
As Annie spoke she heard herself justifying his past and wondered if she was trying to convince herself as well.
"Oh he can smoulder anyone into lowering their knickers alright..." The ginger vampire smiled when she saw Annie lowering her eyes in embarrassment. "But that's not the worst of his traits honey. See, he gets moral every few years and gets on the wagon and falls in love with his food... It really is a nasty habit of his to look for redemption in between a lovely pair of legs... And you seem to have quite a lovely pair... But you're only friends right?" She teased.
"Right..."
"But let's talk about something more interesting. What's George's story?"
"I thought you said you're married."
"He's not my owner. Is he?" Daisy said defiantly.
"George is in a relationship anyways. To a werewolf as a matter of fact."
"The bitch."
"Don't you vampires have some sort of acute dislike of werewolves?" Annie asked truly intrigued.
"Hasn't stopped Mitchell has it? I'm a bit of a collector and a werewolf sounds so... exotic. One that took care of Herrick nonetheless."
"Well he's off limits."
"You're quite territorial, aren't you?"
"I care about my boys."
"Fair enough. But if George gets tired of his..."
"Careful." Annie cautioned her with her ringed finger.
"...Werewolf, make sure to point him towards me, okay honey?"
"Sure. You want to take his tea to your... husband?" She asked handing her the cup and teleporting back to the room with the boys without waiting for her response.
The three men were staring gravely at the small box on Mitchell's hand when Annie appeared right next to Mitchell, making suave Ivan lose his poise.
"Jesus Annie!" Mitchell said.
"You shouldn't rent-a-ghost like that if you want me to live longer."
"You're... quite talented." Ivan said recovering.
"Here's your tea honey." Daisy said handing him the cup brusquely and spilling a bit.
"Thank you." He replied.
"What is that?" Annie asked looking down over Mitchell's shoulder and into the box in his hand.
She could read the weight of the unsaid in both Mitchell and George's eyes.
"Annie..." "Whose are these? Why do you have them?"
"They're Arthur and Holly's..."
"Someone addressed it to Mitchell." George added.
"It's nothing. You don't have to worry." Mitchell stated.
"No. Don't patronise me. I've watched 'The Godfather'. Someone is threatening you."
"Clever girl." Ivan added in between sips.
"I think this is enough for one night. Ivan, you and Daisy better be going. Thank you for bringing this here."
"Annie, it was a pleasure and this tea is to die for. Mitchell, this girl is a keeper... George... It was... interesting. Daisy, love. Let's go."
Annie remained in her place while Mitchell and George saw the vampires off. She couldn't move due to the Earth-shattering thought in her mind:
Immortality suddenly had an expiration date.
It was not that she hadn't thought about it before; the day her door had come and gone Mitchell had gotten quite close to it. He was their rock, and as an ancient stone he predated them. He would also have to outlive them: Certainly he would outlive George, not necessarily outlive her, but she was supposed to pass on before him. That had been the plan at first anyway.
The day of her door she was supposed to leave. She guessed that since the beginning of their three-way friendship, she was just the passer by.
George had been bothered by her, his plan for humanity was complex with a vampire and a werewolf as it were, never mind adding a ghost to the mix. But he had tolerated her since he thought she'd be leaving as soon as she dealt with her unfinished business.
She had believed that as well. That was what she was supposed to do; no one told her she had a choice. But then that whole Herrick thing had happened and she had missed her train, so to speak.
It had been so sudden and violent and her attention was on helping Mitchell. She hadn't stopped to think that he might have been dying.
And of course back then she hadn't felt for him like she did now... She cared for him deeply, yes, but not... 'No, I better not think about it' She thought.
Her door had gone and while she felt, once more, like the castaway she truly was, she had learned to accept that maybe she was here to stay.
The thought was terrifying: An eternity of living without being seen, heard or touched.
But she had her boys, she would have George for a while, but she knew he'd eventually find his way and live the life he still had to live. Nina would make sure of that.
And then there was Mitchell with his promise of eternal life.
She had naively believed he'd always be there for her, as long as she could keep the doors at bay.
And now that notion was shattered.
Forever was made of the most fragile glass.
She could feel the vertigo growing within her, her once lithe body getting heavier and heavier rooting her to the ground. She wondered if she could turn to stone.
The fear almost made her gag just like when in her dream she had heard George yell.
Her mind was playing tricks on her, making her feel her emotions in her ghost body like she wasn't hollow.
"That was... not enjoyable at all..." George said breaking the silence and her thoughts as soon as Mitchell closed the door. "Let's... not do... that... any time soon, shall we?" He continued looking back and forth from Mitchell and Annie and sensing the icy silence. "Very well then... I'm off to bed."
"We should go to bed as well." Mitchell said and she followed him in silence.
He could sense her uneasiness and despite the eternal conundrum women usually were to men he knew her burden. The problem was that he didn't want to dwell on it. He almost chuckled thinking about the irony: For years he had lived carelessly, chasing the true final death out of how much he hated himself; now that he truly wanted to live, death was keeping close.
She had lied down on his bed, keeping herself close in the foetal position. He settled down close, his head almost lying on the pillow of her curls.
In the dark his arm finally gathered her close.
"Don't go away." Mitchell pleaded giving up on not being the one to beg first.
"I'm not going anywhere." She replied without turning to see him, afraid of what he'd be able to see in her eyes.
"No. Here." He said kissing the back of her head. "You're thinking too much about it."
"And I shouldn't?" She said turning now; upset that he couldn't figure out what scared her.
"It's not worth the trouble. I can handle it."
"How can you act like this is nothing? Someone sent you a very clear message... And you think I'm worrying for nothing? You may have forgotten but we almost lost you a few months ago. Have you even stopped to think what it would do to us? To me? You think it would be easy to move on... after you?"
"I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
"Don't make a promise you're not planning on keeping."
"I promise you." God he hoped he'd be able to keep it.
Another promise reverberated in a lover's mind in the other side of the city.
'Like gods' she heard him say in her thoughts. 'We'll rule the Earth and we'll be like gods' he had promised her, but the beast had ripped him apart.
Cara seethed at the thought. He had chosen her and pulled her from her pathetic life with her menial job at the canteen.
'We'll be like gods' he said and kissed her with the passion she had only seen on the stories on the telly. The kind of passion for which she daydreamed when she was a girl and silly little tarts would mock her about it.
The memories strengthened her resolve.
"I left the package. Nobody saw me." Cara informed the dark figure in the alleyway.
"You're a good soldier. I see why old William kept you around."
"I was going to be his dark bride." She said with pride.
"I'm sure my dear... Now tell me more about his... acquaintances..."
Cara knew the man was not looking to avenge her Herrick's death. She wasn't as stupid as people often thought of her. But she'd gladly sell her soul to whoever was willing to kill Mitchell, that ungrateful bastard, and his dog.
To make him feel the despair she felt for her lost love.
No one was stating the obvious in Windsor Terrace. As days went by it had become easier to pretend a threat had not been made. Mitchell was seldom home and whenever Annie wanted to raise the issue, to complain for his absences he'd quiet her with a kiss.
It was condescending and infuriating, but she was also starved of his company, of his touch. If she didn't fear the day he wouldn't be coming through the door she'd lash out at him.
'So weak' she'd whisper to herself every time he'd leave planting a kiss on her forehead and leaving her to gather her legs with her arms burying herself in the cocoon of his empty bed.
Why was she mourning him, missing him when he hadn't left her... yet. She had followed him once, stalked him from afar, and hid in corners and nooks at the hospital.
She was a ghost after all, and wasn't it her prerogative to haunt those she was too stubborn to leave behind?
He hadn't agreed with her argument. So she'd gone back to her long walks.
People could see her now, and yet she was still invisible, when she rode the bus looking at people and listening to out-of-context conversations.
She'd go to the supermarket and make up stories when the cashier was ringing up her shop.
Today she had picked up oranges. She took her sweet time choosing them, every one of them, weighing them in her palm, bringing each one to her nose to smell their scent (was she really noticing the smell, or was that a phantom perception playing tricks on her again?), placing each one in her basket.
As long as she could keep the charade of those little chores she'd be okay, until again she'd be on her own in her pink house thinking and dreading. On the way there she could still smile and daydream while she nodded at old ladies that call her things like 'dearie' and 'love'.
She'd see the same faces day in and day out. Every single one a fixture in the picturesque quotidian life in Bristol.
But not today, there was something out of place. A new face in the costumbrist novel she invented for her own private pleasure day after day.
In the corner of her eye a stoic figure looking at her from across the street. She knew his kind. No one could stay that still. No one alive. His face half hidden on the shade, he was wearing a dark suit and leather gloves. She didn't need to see dark eyes or fangs to know.
Annie had turned abruptly and the bag of oranges had ripped with the golden fruit spilling on the street. She had finally stopped looking at the vampire in order to pick up the oranges.
She was too engrossed on the task to notice anything until an arm hooked up hers and pulled her to her feet.
"Door at nine o' clock. I thought you'd like to know." The uniformed man told her without letting go and forcing her to walk forward.
"What?" She asked confused feeling herself being pulled.
"I think you and I should run." He added instead pulling her harder.
"Hey, wait, let me go. You're not taking me. I'm not letting you take me." She said planting her feet down.
"Love, if you haven't noticed we're running AWAY from the door, not towards it, so wise up and drop the oranges."
"That was close." Annie exhaled when they finally got far enough.
"I'd say so. You should really pay more attention to your surroundings. With such a rookie behaviour you'll be gone before you know it."
"I happen to have closed a few doors on my own." Annie said annoyed at the implication while she placed her hands on her waist.
"Yes, I know, I can read in your aura. I'd say it was impressive, but doing it out of hysterics is far from an achievement."
"Who are you?"
"The name is Sykes."
"I'm Annie." She said offering her hand and a smile unable to hide her excitement at another ghost.
She wondered why it was that you could shake a tree in Bristol and vampires would fall out, but ghosts were much more harder to find.
"Wow... You are... quite something else, aren't you?" The soldier said looking at her in more detail.
"What is it about me, do I have a neon sign on my forehead that reads 'this woman is weird'? I'm getting tired at everybody saying that about me and not explaining why." Annie said bothered by the comment.
"Okay... That was interesting. Anyway... And I'm off. Cheerio."
"Hey, wait!" She was now chasing after him.
"Look Miss, I helped you. You're fine. You're not indebted to me or anything, so don't follow."
"Wait. You can't just do that! If you think I need so much more schooling on doors why don't you help me?"
"Because it's no my responsibility and I'm not planning on making it mine."
"Wait! Please, at least teach me about auras?"
"God! It's like feeding a puppy. What do I need to do? Throw rocks at you so you get the point? I did my noble act of the day. Now, shoo!" Sykes said shaking his hand at her.
"Yeah? Well I'll be more than happy to see the back of you! I don't need you. I can do great on my own! You can read auras? Well I make things explode... and... and... I can tell when it's going to rain... with 87% accuracy... well... 78... let's leave it at 67..."
"Ummm Annie?" Sykes asked with calm making Annie hopeful. "Yes?"
"People are staring at you. You want to know what people see in you? A crazy lady yelling at nobody out in the street. Yeah... That is one of the things that make you different... You're the ghost that is visible and I'm the one who's checking out."
And with that he disappeared.
'Dead men,' Annie thought getting away from the people that looked at her wondering about her sanity. 'Pompous bastards.'