(yes, I know it sucks, but it's a JulNo, It's not supposed to be good. But I would greatly appreciate any help polishing it up, because, quite frankly, I have no clue where to begin! XD Thanks!)
Chapter 1
“Inquisitor Ward captured another vampire today,” Tavin said, after forcing down a shot of whiskey.
“Vampire, huh,” Ma huffed. “Just another poor, innocent soul, I assure you. In fact, if you keep up with the facts of the time, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that that man is bribed to burn those supposed ‘demons!’ Bribed, d’you hear?”
“I dunno, ma’am,” Tavin replied with a solemn stare. “This boy, he couldn’t sleep at night and couldn’t stay awake during the day.”
“Oh, there are lots of people who can’t sleep, boy, and they aren’t vampires!” she snapped.
“Wasn’t queasy around blood.”
“No son of a butcher is, boy, use some of the wits God gave you!”
“And was caught in the graveyard with bloody hands.”
“He was the son of a butcher, if you would listen to me, and the cemetery is a good short way home.”
Ah, yes, Ash thought in her hideaway beneath the stairs. There’s nothing cozier than a stormy night at the farm.
And she meant it. Because they were one of the closer farms to town, a lone traveler would be caught in the rain sooner or later, and the Learns family would be forced to take him under their wing. In fact, they kept a good storage of whiskey for them, just to warm them up (though often they drank more).
And, as usual, there was an argument between Ma and the traveler. And that traveler happened to be Tavin, the apprenticed carpenter. Even better; Tavin was a shameless supporter of the Inquisitor, while Ma was vehemently against him and all that he stood for.
“Even if all that proof wasn’t enough to catch him,” Tavin continued, “He gave it all away when they killed him.”
“What, did he confess?” Ma said sarcastically, pouring him another shot of whiskey. “Even the innocent would confess anything you want if you torture them enough. Drink some more, boy, before you freeze to death.”
“No, ma’am, no more,” he said, even through his shivers. “And he didn’t confess. His soul is damned forever, now. No, they drove a stake through his heart, and he screamed. You should’ve heard it, ma’am, it was unearthly, like a thousand hell-damned devils were inside of him. And not only did blood come out of the puncture wound, but out of his mouth, too! Blood of his victims, they say.”
“Every man who is stabbed screams!” Ma shouted, slamming the whiskey bottle down. “And every man who is stabbed bleeds from the mouth!”
Tavin had nearly fallen out of his chair, he was so startled.
“And yes, boy,” she snarled, suddenly getting very close. “You are going to drink that glass of whiskey, if I have to force it down your throat. I won’t have you dying right here at my table.”
Tavin quickly grabbed the glass and downed it in one gulp, deciding the fiery poison was better than the wrath of this madwoman. Ash hid another laugh.
Even when she wasn’t angry, Ma was an imposing figure. She was a thick and large woman with all the acquired strength and calluses of a hardworking farmwife. Her messy, silver-black hair had been twisted into a sloppy bun at the top of her neck, and her face was creased and weathered with wisdom. But beneath the layers and layers of gathered age, her crystal blue eyes still shone with youth. It was a comfortable, familiar face that everyone could love. If they could get used to the temper within.
“They found a witch tonight, too,” Tavin pressed on, though not as confidently. “Said they caught her dancing in a fairy ring, dancing to devilish music.”
Ma raised an eyebrow at him. “Really?” she said, pretending to be extremely interested. “And who caught her there?”
“Well,” the boy said with a baffled look, “The men of Inquisitor Ward, of course. His soldiers.”
Ma snorted, turning back to the tedious chore of washing dishes. “No doubt they constructed the ring themselves, grabbed the girl as she walked home from seeing your ‘vampire boy,’ and dragged her down the streets. Really, boy,” she said, just turning her head, “you can’t trust the soldiers. Most people in this town realize that.”
“Yes ma’am,” Tavin mumbled, not wanting to get her angry again.
“Who was the girl?”
“What?”
“The witch, the child you were just talking about,” Ma snapped, frustrated. “Who was she?”
“Mary, ma’am.”
“Mary?” Ma cried, whipping around. “Mary Anne Stays?”
Tavin jumped. “Why…yes, ma’am.”
“That sweet little girl who could quote seventy-two bible verses, helps all the women with their chores when they’re sick or ill, and just got confirmed last Friday?”
Tavin shamefacedly nodded a yes.
“The same Mary Anne Stays,” Ma continued, her voice dangerously low, “who refused to marry that rich pig because she loved the butcher’s vampire son?”
Tavin nodded once more, miserable.
“Huh,” Ma sniffed. “Like I said. Bribed. The whole thing is all rigged, all of it, I tell you.” She turned suddenly towards the stairs, wiping her wet hands on her apron. “Wouldn’t you agree, child?”
The wide smile on Ash’s face disappeared faster than a rabbit down its hole.
“Oh, come on, Ashtine, I know you’re there,” Ma huffed impatiently.
Slowly, shyly, Ash slipped from her hiding place. Tavin looked up and smiled. “Have you been hiding there the whole time?”
Ash gave a sheepish little shrug, unable to hide back a smile herself. “Eavesdropping is an old bad habit,” she said. “And an old bad hobby.”
Tavin laughed.
“What do you think, Ashtine?” Ma said. “Is the whole thing rigged?”
“It’s Ash, mother,” She answered quietly. “And yes, I do.”
“Huh,” Ma said. “Listen to the girl, Tavin, she speaks like her father. None of our poor farmer accent of the gutter, what?”
“Mother,” Ash hissed. It was true, she spoke with a cleaner, more sophisticated accent, but she didn’t like to be reminded of it every minute of the day. Tavin would also be sick of it, she knew. He heard it probably every day of his life.
Tavin was her very, very close friend. They grew up together. Lately, he had grown into a handsome young man, with his deep, thoughtful brown eyes, a long, shaped face, and a neatly cut cap of hair that was evenly striped brown and blond. And most girls thought that splay of freckles across his nose was absolutely adorable. Yes, he was a handsome enough lad, and he was fun to be with, and she hoped her friendship would last forever. Many of the girls would fall for him, left and right, and Ash would tease him mercilessly about it. He would turn pink and refuse to reply.
Tavin stood up with a silly grin on his face. “Yes, she does talk like her father,” he said, bowing low. “Like a genteel lady of the king’s court.”
“Oh, sit down, Tavin,” she laughed, ruffling his hair and giving him a shove.
It was impossible for him to keep a dignified manner, stumbling and trying to fix his hair. Still, he tried. “Thy wish is my command, Lady Ashtine,” he said, assuming a haughty, aristocratic look.
“It’s Lady Ash,” she said, turning her nose up into the air. “If you wish to address me in the proper way, my name is Ash.”
He laughed and tossed his hat at her.
Ma didn’t approve. “Don’t you be starting that, young man,” She snapped. “I won’t have you two ripping about the house throwing things at each other like you were three again.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, looking over at Ash with a feigned mournful look that made her stifle a laugh.
Ma huffed. She caught that look. “Well, young man?” she said, quickly changing the subject. “So you’ve been apprenticed to the carpenter, have you?”
It had the desired effect, immediately wiping the smile off his face. Ma had a way of knowing what would make them unhappy.
Tavin furrowed his brow. “I don’t know if I’ll keep it, though,” he replied. “I might just want to be a farmer.”
“Oh, please, Mr. Tack,” she snorted. “Your older brothers are going to get the farm. You have to find your own trade.”
Tavin shrugged. “It will be something in the church,” he decided. “Most likely an inquisitor.”
Dead silence. The wind and rain pounded at the shutters and the fire flickered and spat.
“An inquisitor?” Ash said incredulously. “You want to burn innocent people at the stake, drown innocent people in the river, beat a confession out of them whether they did it or not—“
“That’s not what inquisitors do,” Tavin insisted. “They protect innocent people from devils, like demons and witches and vampires and—“
“Why do you love Inquisitor Ward so much?” Ma cut in.
“Huh?”
“Inquisitor Ward, Mr. Tack?”
“Oh.” Tavin took a deep breath, hoping to sound reasonable and intelligent. “Well, for one thing, he’s a man of God.”
“A corrupt man of God,” Ash muttered under her breath.
Tavin pressed on. “And he does his best to save us from those witches, werewolves, vampires, and demons.”
“Who are all innocent,” Ma piped in, “and framed by some rich pig, just to get them out of the way for their own selfish reasons.”
“Not all,” Tavin defended.
“All,” Ma spat in a flat, harsh tone.
“There are no such things as vampires or werewolves or witches, Tavin,” Ash said. “They’re all scientifically impossible.”
Tavin shrugged and retreated into a slouch in his chair, recognizing that he was outnumbered here.
“I saw the storm coming,” Tavin said quietly. “I just thought I could make it back to town in time…”
“Your horse is a living, breathing animal, Tavin,” Ash chided. “Not an unfeeling transportation machine. You can’t push it; it’ll collapse. How would you like it if someone made you run as fast as you can and started beating you with a crop if you slowed down?”
“I wouldn’t,” Tavin admitted. “But I never beat Creamery with a crop, and besides, she was still fresh out of the stable, well fed and everything. I didn’t push her to the point of collapse, I love her too much.”
Ash furrowed her brow in confusion. “I tended Creamery myself,” she said. “Why was she so tired and out of breath?”
Tavin looked away, pursing his lips. “She was spooked,” he said quietly. “By something on the road. She panicked, so I knew I had to get her inside as soon as I could.”
There was a slight silence.
“Ash,” Tavin said quietly, leaning forward so that she would hear him. “Can I speak to you?”
“Go ahead,” Ash said as loud as she could, making him wince.
“Quieter,” he whispered. “Please, Ash.”
She bit her lip. She had never heard Tavin be so serious. “What?”
“I need to tell you something…”
Ma’s eyes flicked between the two. “I’d better go check on the animals,” she lied, and left the room.
Ash couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Ma,” she said with a shake of her head. “A girl and a boy start to talk and she jumps to conclusions.”
Tavin leaned in closer. “Ash…” he began.
“You’ve said my name three times already,” she snapped. “Just go ahead and say what you want to say.”
The boy looked taken aback, but pressed on anyway. “Creamery isn’t spooked easily.”
Ash rolled her eyes. “Mr. Tack,” she said, “Stop seeing devils where there are none.”
“When she started getting skittish,” he told her, speaking in hushed tones, “I looked around, trying to find out why she was panicking.”
Ash sighed. “It’s dark and stormy out,” she said. “You can’t see a thing.”
“I was in the middle of the plains,” he replied. “The road is straight and flat. You can see forever in any direction.”
“Only on a clear day,” Ash snorted.
“There was nothing around us that could’ve frightened her so badly,” he continued, doggedly pressing on. “Then I felt chilled, like something had just seized my heart and froze every vein in my body.”
“It’s raining outside,” Ash reminded him, glancing pointedly at the shuttered windows. “Did you expect to feel all warm and fuzzy?”
“It wasn’t that kind of cold,” he insisted, beginning to get frustrated. “It was unearthly, like something wasn’t right. Not only that it wasn’t right, but that something was wrong, very, very, wrong.”
Bang!
Ash and Tavin both jumped.
Something had slammed against the door, making the whole house shutter. Pottery swung off the walls and tables, shattering across the floor, and the candles flickered and spat.
Ash leaped to her feet, eyes wide, ready to run. Her guest spun around in his chair and almost fell over, he was so startled.
“What…what was that?” he asked, voice quivering.
“I don’t know,” Ash replied.
Someone knocked three times on the door. Rat tat tat. It was hurried, desperate, and faint.
Ma peaked from around the doorway where she was hiding. “Who’s knocking, Ashtine?” she asked curtly.
“Probably just another traveler,” Ash answered, slowly stepping towards the door as if approaching a sleeping snake.
“Well, you’re no help to him, creeping up like that,” her mother snapped, rushing towards the door.
She pulled it open, and in fell buckets of rain.
And a ragged, half-dead boy.
He sprawled across the floor, coughing and sputtering entire lungfuls of dirty water. A puddle of red began growing around him, blossoming around his torso like a spilled glass of wine, and it was growing fast, much too fast.
Ma wrestled the door shut while Ash knelt beside him, trying to find the problem. Her hands trembled as she brushed back his hair to feel his pulse. His hair was longer than hers, limp and black.
There was a pulse; faint and ragged, but it was there.
She drew a shaky breath and started ripping his shirt away, trying to find the wound.
“Oh, dear God protect us,” Tavin gasped, crossing himself fervently. Ash looked up, irritated, to find her old friend pale and shaking and leaning against the table for support.
“For the love of…” Ma breathed, cuffing him over the back of his head. “What’s gotten into you, boy? There’s nothing cursed or supernatural about him!”
“Look,” He said quietly, pointing at the stranger. “Claw marks.”
Ash turned the boy more towards her to see what he was talking about.
He was right; five deep, razor thin claw marks had raked across his ribs, tearing both clothes and flesh. He was bleeding profusely, and Ash could glimpse the bright white bone of his ribs.
“Demons,” Tavin cried, breathing in deep ragged gasps. “He was attacked by demons!”
Ma cuffed him again, fixing him with a deadly glare. “Complete and utter nonsense,” she snapped. “Looks to me he was attacked by a panther or a wolf.”
“That’s a mighty big panther or wolf,” Tavin replied. “The claws are too far apart. Besides, have you ever seen a panther or wolf with five claws?”
“Bear, then,” Ash told him. “Now shut up. There’s no such thing as demons.”
The wounded boy’s eyes flew open. He gasped suddenly, grasping her arm with a violent gasp, and she heard his voice rasp as he dragged in hard breaths of air. His hands were twisted claws of pain.
Ash wanted to calm him down, to stroke his hair and tell him nothing was wrong and he was safe from whatever was chasing him. But she was too captivated by his eyes.
One blue eye.
One green eye.
Tavin saw it, too. “By the Good Lord!” he shouted. “He’s cursed! A demon’s possessed him!”
“Shut up!” Ash and her mother cried in unison.
“Help me get him into a room,” Ma said, trying to scoop up the stranger. He arched his back in pain, then fell limp, unconscious once more. “He’s not going to get any better, sprawled on the floor like that.”
“Yes, Ma.”
“And he’s bleeding all our clean floor. Which is gross and impolite. Not to mention, I spent a long time trying to get that floor clean.”
Ash grinned. “Yes, Ma.”
She helped her mother scoop up the boy and began carrying him to the back room.
“No, no, child, stop it, stop it, I’ll have to carry him,” Ma huffed, pulling him out of her arms. “You’re only hurtin’ him. Carryin’ a poor wounded boy all stretched out like that. Huh!”
Ash nodded and began to follow her out.
“Wait, Ash?” Tavin said.
Ash rolled her eyes, but she did turn around. “What?”
“Stay away from him,” he warned. “You don’t know what he’s going to do.”
Ash sighed. “He’s just another weary traveler, Tavin, just like you.”
“Just another weary traveler who’s just been attacked by a demon,” he retorted. “The demon attacked him on the road, and he overpowered him and took over his body! He’s possessed, Ash! He needs to be exorcized.”
Ash had had enough. “Go home, Tavin,” she snapped. “Take your horse from my stables and get out of here.”
Tavin acted as though he’d been struck. “It’s…it’s still stormy outside,” he protested.
“No, it’s not,” Ash said sarcastically. “It’s died down. Bright and sunny and flowers and butterflies.”
“It’s raining out there.”
Ash looked out the window, cupping her hands around her eyes so that she could get a better view through the glass. “It’s died down enough for you to go home,” she decided. “Now get out of my house.”
After a moment, Tavin decided she was serious and collected his coat by the fire, clapping the limp, soggy hat back on his head.
“Wait,” she said suddenly, grabbing him by the shoulder.
He fixed her with a glare and shrugged off her hand. “What?”
“Promise me that you won’t tell anyone about the boy,” she hissed. “No one.”
“Why would it—?”
“Not even your sister that you tell everything to.”
“I don’t tell her—“
“And especially not that so-called man of God, Inquisitor Ward.”
”What?!”
“You heard me!”
Tavin shook his head in bewilderment. “He needs to know, Ash,” he insisted. “He’s here to protect us from demons.”
“He’s here to fill his own purse,” Ash snapped. “He’s a phony and a fraud and only kills the people he’s been paid to kill. You cannot tell him about this boy. You won’t. I can’t let you.”
“What are you going to do,” he demanded, his voice raising, “keep him here as a secret? Hide him from the rest of the town?”
“No,” she cried, laughing sardonically at the absurd notion. “You can tell people that my cousin came to visit us. Don’t mention his wounds; he’s in bed because he got sick in the storm.”
“And his eyes?”
“I swear, Tavin,” she growled, dangerously quiet, “If you tell a single soul about his eyes, I am going to bribe the inquisitor myself, and he will burn you at the stake.”
There was a deadly silence.
“That was an empty threat,” he said finally. “because Inquisitor Ward doesn’t accept bribes.”
“Would you like to test that theory?” she said readily.
Tavin didn’t. “Alright,” he said at last, defeated. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Ash took a deep breath to calm herself. It was an empty threat. Tavin was her best friend, and even though they disagreed about everything, she couldn’t bear to watch him burn at the stake.
“Alright,” she said. “Do you swear you won’t tell anyone?”
“Yes.”
“Swear it, Tavin.”
“I did!”
“Swear it!”
“I swear I won’t tell anyone about the demon.”
Ash rolled her eyes, but she decided it was good enough. “Now get out of my house,” she said.
Tavin frowned, slipped on his jacket, and headed out into the rain.
The stables were warm and dry, and he was grateful for that. He walked along the stables, looking for the one that held his horse, then began to saddle the mild mare Creamery.
“It’s dangerous harboring a demon in one’s house,” He muttered to his horse. “Bad luck, you know.”
His horse merely tossed his head and sidled anxiously, the round whites of her eyes glowing bright in the darkness.
Tavin knew a spooked horse when he saw one.
