Darkness slowly receded as Jasper’s muddled mind gradually regained a semblance of consciousness. Blood steadily oozed past swollen lips as he lay, face down, in a shallow, muddy pothole. He could feel the flesh over his left eye swelling while the throbbing in his head intensified to the extent that he was sure the iron bar that was used to beat him with was lodged deep inside of it. There was a faint sensation of warmth coating his ears from the blood that steadily trickled from them. This explained why all sounds were muted and barely audible.
He was grateful that the pothole was shallow enough to keep him from drowning because he had no idea when he’d find the strength to push himself up and out of it. Even the effort of rolling onto his back felt unobtainable.
He’d run out of money to pay for his research. Never one for waiting until tomorrow to do what could be done today, he’d insisted on making the trip to the other side of town after a late-night dinner to petition his benefactor for more funds even though logic and his assistant told him that his petition could have waited – and probably would have been better received- until the following morning. If only he’d listened to one or the other.
Knowing that the streets would be barely passable in his car and with his destination less than a mile away, he’d decided to traverse the distance on foot. In his impatience to reach the townhome of the wealthy entrepreneur, Steven Giles, he did what he knew he shouldn’t have done. He made the fateful mistake of cutting through the alley.
He normally avoided alleys since nothing good ever happened in them. Not to him, anyway. During his college days, his friends would brag about all the great things they did in the dimly lit private cubbies and alcoves of alleys, like hooking up with a woman who didn’t demand payment for the sex that they had with her while concealed in the recesses of a remote doorway or the purchase of a coveted item that mysteriously fell off the back of a truck from an unsavory looking character for an unbelievable low price. For him, it was never that way. Instead, a trip through the alley at night generally led to the loss of his wallet or a family heirloom such as his grandfather’s watch.
Although he’d been robbed on numerous occasions while foolishly using an alley at night, admittedly, he’d never suffered an assault such as the one he’d just experienced. In fact, he couldn’t even fathom something of this degree ever happening to him. Yet, it did.
No. Alleys were not good for him. He should have stayed out of it.
Jasper had no reason to be there other than the fact that he was taking a shortcut to the other side of town. He’d almost managed the long and narrow stretch behind the block that contained the “Old Thyme Tavern” to avoid the crowd that had spilled out of it onto the street to celebrate Independence Day. The owner of the local bar was famous for hosting extravagant celebrations for major occasions. The functions attracted such large gatherings that the streets were often either difficult to maneuver through or completely shut down during the occasion.
On this particular night, the city was busy celebrating Halloween and maneuverability was a major issue. His regrets for wanting to avoid pushing his way through the crowd by taking the notoriously perilous short cut were acute.
With his mind clouded from the pain in his head, he was hard pressed to remember just what had happened. He recalled a man wearing a zombie costume that was so authentic looking that it was not only creepy, but a tad frightening. It reminded him of the zombies in the television series and movies that were all the rage. The zombie man had behaved in perfect character by grabbing and pulling at him while acting as if he wanted to bite a bit of his flesh. In fact, Jasper was certain that he got a good nip in there. Even though he’d drawn blood, it wasn’t the zombie character who pummeled him to the ground. He was still trying to piece it together, but he was certain that the beating came from another source. Two. No, three men.
They came out of nowhere in wolf-like costumes and sliced off the head of the zombie dressed character with a large sword while Jasper was struggling to be free of him.
Jasper’s first thought was that he’d stumbled into a gang war zone of some type. Gang battles were nothing to take lightly. Although death was often a result of such battles, beheading wasn’t something that he’d read about in the news.
Traumatized to the point of being immobilized by what he’d just witnessed, he was unable to fight back when the three men proceeded to tackle him to the ground and pummel his body with fists, rocks, and, finally, a crowbar. It wasn’t until much later that he questioned why they’d left his head intact.
The attackers desire to closely mimic the character of the costumes they wore was both frustrating and shocking. He could only reason that there was some sort of contest or gang challenge that they were participating in to make them behave with such dedication even while mugging someone. If memory served him right, he was clawed and bitten by one of them as well.
Left broken and barely holding onto life, he felt certain that he wouldn’t survive more than a few hours. The possibility of someone of strong moral character stumbling upon him in that dingy alley and calling for medical help was bleak. If by some miracle someone did come along to rescue him in time, he’d definitely have to get tested for diseases that could have entered his bloodstream via these wounds.
He grew weaker and weaker as he faded in and out of consciousness. Whenever his mind got coherent enough to realize his situation, he was surprised to discover that he was still able to inhale life giving air. He shouldn’t have survived such a brutal attack. Yet, the searing pain that coursed through every inch of his body told him that he’d done just that.
The question was… for how much longer?
Summoning enough strength to move his hand to his pants pocket, he was surprised to discover that his money was still there. He could feel that the designer watch that he’d purchased to replace the watch he’d inherited from his grandfather and had been stolen in a mugging while in his early twenties had also been left on his wrist. Things weren’t making sense. Getting drunk and, then, acting in character and attacking in such a way was one thing, but since when did robbers beat a man to mere inches from his life and then not rob him? Then, were they really robbers? They’d beheaded a man, after all.
As if his mind wasn’t muddled enough after such a head bashing, trying to make sense out of what just occurred confused it even more.
With all the strength that he could muster, he lifted his head and looked around. The dim lighting from the sparsely placed fixtures on the back of a few buildings mingled with the moonlight. It illuminated the narrow, cluttered alley just enough for him to make out his surroundings. Vomit surged up his throat and out of his mouth and nose when his eyes settled on the severed head of the zombie costumed man. With his breathing temporarily impaired, he feared that the vomit would do what the beating hadn’t succeeded in accomplishing.
After vigorously coughing and forcing air through his damaged throat and broken nose, he managed to clear the passageways enough to take in a sufficient amount of precious, life giving oxygen. With his fears of suffocating on his own vomit quelled, he braved a closer look at the zombie man’s decapitated body that lay so close that, had he the wherewithal, he could have touched it.
He doubted anyone would hear him over the boisterous celebration going on in the streets, but he tried to cry out anyway. His attempts proved useless. The only thing that his crushed vocal cords managed to produce was a barely audible, gravelly groan.
Feeling exhausted from the pain and defeated by his situation, he eased his bruised and bloody cheek back into the shallow mudpuddle and allowed darkness to relieve him of his nightmare reality.
As he lay so still as to appear lifeless, a tall figure dressed in an eighteenth century styled, sleek black cape with a red satin lining and an equally sleek looking black satin top hat steadily made his way down the alley. Had Jasper been alert, he would have admired such an authentic costume that clearly showed the stranger to be portraying a vampire.
The man’s footsteps echoed off the building as they blended with his carefree whistling. Spotting the decapitated zombie’s body next to the lifeless looking one lying in a heap with his face in a puddle, the vampire character stopped whistling and cautiously looked around. Seeing no one or nothing that could prove menacing, he made his way to them.
Bending over the unconscious man, he carefully checked for signs of life before piercing his wrist with an elongated tooth and allowing his blood to drip into the wounded man’s mouth. Satisfied when he saw the man’s severely bruised throat working to swallow the blood that was given to him, he picked up the wounded and limp form as if it weighed no more than a rag doll and positioned it over his shoulder.
Jasper’s body flopped to and fro as his rescuer ran hard and fast until he’d gained enough speed to leap into the air. Once in flight, Jasper’s limp and almost lifeless body settled into position. Had he been conscious to see the vision that they made, he would have been in awe over the way that the man’s cape spread like wings while he soared with the grace of an eagle as they disappeared into the moonlit night
Cora pulled her thick and wavey, waist length auburn colored hair into a ponytail while she agitatedly paced the perimeter of the mansion’s medical room.“So, he brought home another one. This is the third in two months,” she grumbled as she stopped next to the cot that supported Jasper’s still body. “What does he think he is going to do with this one? The man is barely breathing.” The elderly whitehaired attendant placed her hands on her thick hips and slowly shook her head as she said, “Master Rowan has a reason for everything that he does. Although, for the life of me, I have no idea what it is this time. I cannot imagine what use he could be around here. This poor lad is on death’s door.”Cora’s slender form leaned low over Jasper’s still body. Placing her cheek near his mouth to feel for breath, she said, “Exactly. The others showed promise of recovering e
Several Weeks LaterJasper slowly eased his body onto its side. Mimicking sleep, he intently listened to the conversation between a young woman named, Cora, and the old nurse he’d heard called both Bess and Smithfield. He’d assumed that her true name was Elizabeth Smithfield with Bess being the nick name for Elizabeth, but names were funny things. He’d noticed the increasing pattern of nick names or abbreviated names being given to children at birth by parents wanting to be different. Therefore, he could have been incorrect on that assumption.“He has been here for weeks. It has been determined that he will not provide service in the household, but he has not been turned,” Cora complained. “Others have come and gone, yet there he lays. I do not understand what is so special about him. He wastes valuable bed space.”“I agree that he has been occupying a b
Rowan slouched against the back of his chair and stretched his long, lean legs to full length in front of him. Rubbing his tired eyes with his left hand, his right hand gripped the papers that he’d managed to acquire. They belonged to a physician turned scientist who lived a few centuries earlier. The man had been successful in putting life back into a human corpse. True, the revived corpse possessed a monster-like appearance, and the experiments went no further, but the concept was still a valid one. It was Rowan’s thought that, since the physician had been able to bring a deceased human back to life, surely there was a method for elongating the life of one still living– possibly to the point of immortality- without the need of polluting it with his vampire blood.With frustration and disgust, he tossed the soiled and dog-eared papers onto the table next to his chair. He’d combed over them at least a dozen times, but still came
“It was Halloween,” Jasper mused with unbridled confusion. “I thought they were in costume. Who knew those things were real?”“What better time to walk in the open without fear of discovery?” Rowan said as he inspected the color and shape of Jasper’s eyes and his mouth’s interior. “You have experienced mild alterations, but nothing severe. You still show signs of being human.”“Alterations? In what way?” Jasper asked with concern as his fingers roamed over his facial features. “I don’t feel like I look different. I don’t look like a zombie, do I?”“Would you like a mirror?” Bess asked as she moved out from behind Rowan to produce a small, hand-held mirror. “You are still a handsome man if you must know. The significant change that I see is the color of your eyes. They are much darker. In fac
Two Weeks LaterJasper eased himself into the chair opposite Rowan. Slight waves of pressure from the intense energy being emitted from the vampire who had saved his life caressed his body. Although he’d come to no harm since he’d been discovered by the ancient creature and was saved from death, he couldn’t help the nagging, unsettled feeling that remained constant. He’d yet to discover Rowan’s plans for him. Was he to become a vampire? Or, was he being saved as a food source for the many vampires that openly roamed about the estate?“I see that you are finally feeling well enough to be up and around,” Rowan said with satisfaction. “This is good.”“I need to get back to my lab,” Jasper complained with a boldness that he didn’t actually feel. “I cannot leave my work.”“You do realize that you are no longer human, do yo
Although he’d been on death’s door while being rescued from the alley, Jasper had a faint recall of being draped over the vampire’s shoulder and flying through the air for a considerable period of time. Because of this, he naturally assumed that their mode of travel to retrieve his notes from his lab would be the same. His first response when he slid into Rowan’s limousine was to mentally mock himself for thinking that they would fly instead of drive.He said nothing to Rowan about his assumption. In fact, as time passed and the road took them closer to their destination, he questioned if he’d really flown at all. Perhaps it was simply some type of crazy illusion by a man who was barely alive.They drove the roads in what seemed like a normal fashion, yet time didn’t behave normally. The world on the opposite side of the windows whizzed by so fast that it was barely discernable. A trip that should have t
Rowan eyed Jasper’s young assistant’s curvaceous body with a mixture of lust and regret over inviting her along as he watched her help the scientist load their precious research records into the trunk of the limousine. He hadn’t considered that one of the factors that plagued a vampire was the need for a steady release of fluids. Just as a consistent intake of blood was necessary for the proper functioning of his body, so was the need for a consistent release of his bodily fluids. Although there were some vampires who would take in fluids that were not blood, such as alcohol or tea, and urinate them back out as would a human, he didn’t find this to be the most proficient for the balance of his body’s energy flow. Over the centuries of his existence, he’d discovered that a release through the surge of a powerful orgasm was far more effective as well as pleasurable. It was not only invigorating and satisfying, but it proved t
The apartment provided to Jasper was located in the far side of the vampire’s castle. The awe that he felt as the limousine drove high above the clouds up the winding mountainous road toward the enormous stone structure that looked as if it was floating in the sky still lingered. Had he not been so angry with his recently acquired benefactor, he might have been better able to appreciate the awesomeness of his new home and situation. As it was, he was having difficulty moving past what had happened to his assistant during their drive home.He battled with his guilt. Just as Rowan had assured him, Lila remembered nothing of what happened. She wasn’t even aware that there had been a gap in the drive from his home office in Philadelphia to their new home hidden deep in the tree laden forest of the Catskill mountains. Unfortunately, he was very much aware of it. Now, he tortured over whether he should inform her of it or keep quiet and hop