Montlimer, Ten Years Before
The Abraham Boarding School was a two hour drive away from Oakenden, out in the country. They passed through a tiny town without even seeing a single person or another car on the road, before heading out into fields. The school was impossible to miss as it was the only thing in the fields for miles around.
“Wow,” Logan was taken aback by the size and grandeur of the building.
“Yes, it is impressive isn’t it,” Father Isaiah was amused. “This property was established two centuries ago when this country was colonized, and owned by a very, very wealthy family who came to the New World seeking to spread the old religion to new followers. The natives were resistant and hostile, as you know, and there was much conflict in the region. The house served during the times of unrest as a hospital for wounded soldiers and then as an orphanage, due to the charity of the establishing family. Now, it is a boarding school for young people who need a place to recover and grow from their traumatic experiences.”
“Nice of the owners,” Logan commented because he did not know what else to say.
“They are dedicated to the betterment of the world,” Father Isaiah agreed cheerfully. “We encourage a wide range of outdoor activities from horse riding through to archery,” he added as he drove through the gates and followed the windy driveway towards the house. “There are a range of outbuildings dedicated to offering our students every opportunity to explore their interests.”
There was a group of teenagers doing yoga under the shade of some trees, and a football game taking place on the lawn. Father Isaiah slowed as they neared two horse riders, giving them plenty of space as he went around them although the horses barely flicked an ear at the car. All the students were dressed in shades of grey – some kind of uniform, Logan thought, which was probably a good thing as he was wearing scrubs and had nothing besides a toothbrush to his name.
“The only area which is out of bounds is the basement,” Father Isaiah continued as he pulled to a stop out front of the house. There were adults there in black, many with sidearms on their hips. “You will note the presence of our soldiers,” he had followed Logan’s gaze. “They are here to provide protection for the students, but also for the treasures housed in the basement. We are a religious order, following The God. Were you raised in his teachings, Logan?”
“A bit,” Logan shrugged a shoulder. “We weren’t regulars at church or anything.”
“Well, you will be expected to attend the weekly devotions here, and during those times you will learn more about the religion and come to understand why the basement must be guarded. Do not be alarmed by the presence of the soldiers. We do not anticipate trouble, but it is nice to know that should trouble ever arise, our students will be protected.”
“Yeah, sure,” Logan would sleep better, he thought, knowing that there were men with guns to shoot that monster if it reappeared.
“Let’s go then,” Father Isaiah opened his car door and got out. “We should have a student guide to meet us… Ah, there we go,” he added as they approached the stairs up to the house and a young man in dark grey slacks and a close fitting t-shirt stepped out. The young man’s hair was crisply cut and his face wholesomely good-looking which made Logan feel even more like a freak with his yellow-green bruising and gruesome stitched claw marks.
“Jonathan, this is Logan. Logan, Jonathan will show you around and make sure you settle in and have everything that you need,” Father Isaiah gestured for the two young men to proceed him into the building.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Jonathan’s eyes scanned over Logan from top to toe. “You’ve had a rough time from the looks of you, so I’ll do the short version of the tour today so you can settle into your room, and collect you in the morning to introduce you around.”
The front doors opened into a foyer dominated by an impressive split staircase.
“Classrooms are upstairs to the left,” Jonathan said. “Professor’s offices and rooms are to the right. I imagine,” he slid a look at Logan. “You might need a few days before you start any classes.”
“That is correct,” Father Isaiah confirmed. “Logan will need to take things at his own pace for a while.”
“We’re used to that around here,” Jonathan said, and there was sympathy and personal experience in his voice that released the tension that Logan hadn’t realized that he’d been holding onto. “So, we’ll skip that until you think you’re ready and go straight to the dorm and common room.”
“If you are happy, I will leave you with Jonathan?” Father Isaiah raised his eyebrows at Logan.
“Sure,” Logan shrugged.
Jonathan saluted Father Isaiah smartly as the older man stepped towards the staircase and held the salute until Father Isaiah was well up the stairs. “Alright, this way,” he said to Logan.
“What was with the salute?” Logan wondered as he they followed the hallway under the left sweep of stair. There were plush, old-fashioned armchairs set around a small coffee table under the stairs, and oil paintings on the walls as they continued into the house, passing labelled doors.
“I’m training for the seminary. It’s part of the routine.”
“Seminary,” Logan pulled a face. “I thought this was a high school,” he added.
“It is. Why do you ask?” Jonathan wondered.
“Junior library, senior library.”
“Ah, the junior library is open to all students, the senior library has more… advanced books. There’s another library… But you’ll learn about that later. At the moment, you can use the junior library. It’s got, you know, fiction books and stuff for schoolwork.”
Jonathan paused by a door marked “computer room” and opened it revealing rows of high-tech computers. A couple of students working at the stations looked up and smiled before returning their eyes to the screens. “Access to the internet is monitored, but you’re free to use it for as long as you like every day,” Jonathan told him.
“Why is it monitored?”
“This is a school,” Jonathan shrugged. “I guess because there’s rules about accessing pornography and that sort of thing, so they need to monitor it to make sure you don’t. The rules are taped to the desks.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Logan nodded.
“This side,” Jonathan paused where the hallway split into two. “Is restricted. Don’t go that way.”
“Okay,” Logan looked down that way out of interest but someone had installed a heavy door with a keypad that definitely had nothing to do with a high school.
To the left, they passed a busy industrial kitchen filled with many white-clad people clustered around metal worksurfaces.
“Meals are catered, for us and for the soldiers,” Jonathan explained. “Three times a day and served in the dining hall next to this kitchen. If you want to eat with everyone the buffets are open between seven and nine, twelve and two and six to eight.
“Otherwise,” Jonathan moved down past a dining room set with rows of long tables and bench seats and opened a door to the left. “The kitchen in the common room is fully stocked. We have movie nights in here, but generally it’s just a space to hang out.”
There was a small, dated kitchen and a beaten up but comfortable looking couch set before a huge TV mounted to the wall. It looked precisely like what it was – a hang out space for teenagers. “They encourage us to spend time outside in the various activities, though,” Jonathan closed the door behind him.
“They like us to be active, and provide,” Jonathan shrugged. “Anything you can think of. Football and basketball, tennis, swimming – there’s a pool house and a natural lake you’re welcome to swim in. They also do wrestling, martial arts, fencing and archery, horse riding, shooting… All sorts of things. In the common room there’s a board where they pin the activities and times, and anyone’s invited to join in. The soldiers run a lot of the outdoor activities. They’re a lot of fun.”
The hallway from beyond the common room was broken up by doors. “Girls to the right,” Jonathan told him. “Boys to the left. Bathrooms to the end of the hall, and they’re marked so you won’t accidentally go into the girls one.”
“How many students are there here?” Logan wondered.
“Usually about twenty or thirty, it changes as people graduate,” Jonathan replied and opened the nearest door. “This is you. Rooms sleep four, but you’re only sharing with one other, Wade, at the moment so you can pick top or bottom bunk on the other side.”
It was a tiny room with two bunk beds separated by a window. The only sign that the room was occupied was that one bed was less well made than the others.
“Where do we put our stuff?” Logan asked as there was no sign of a closet.
Jonathan’s eyes went to the toothbrush that Logan held. “They don’t encourage personal possessions, other than toiletries and you will have a tray in the bathroom cupboard where you can keep your toiletries. Uniforms are brought around every evening ready for the next day and pajamas every morning ready for the night. You put used clothing into the laundry bag hanging on the door, and it will be collected. Everyone puts their shoes under the bed, so, if I can recommend, the top bunk is better,” Jonathan grinned. “You never know if one of your room-mates will have stinking feet.”
“Okay,” Logan found the clothing arrangement extremely weird. “How do they know what size clothes?”
“I’ll write a note on the supplies room door after I leave you,” Jonathan explained. “I’m guessing you’re a medium, because I’m a large, so see how you go in the morning. If you want to try up or down, I’ll show you the supplies room tomorrow morning.”
“Okay, thanks,” Logan looked around the room. “I guess I’ll go to the common room and watch some TV then.”
“Yeah, it’s basically that, computers or library until you’re feeling up to more,” Jonathan agreed. “It’s…” he hesitated. “It can feel weird here to start off with. But the way they do things will make sense to you after a while. And we get everything, more than everything really, that we need. It’s… It’s a good place, Logan. They’re good people.”
“I’m only here until they find somewhere else,” Logan replied.
Jonathan looked away. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll walk you back to the common room.”
“Why did you say okay like that?” Logan asked him as they headed back into the hallway.
Jonathan slid him a look out of the corner of his eye. “They just… I guess this is sort of the last stop pretty much for everyone here,” he said very quietly. “I’ve been here for three years, and I’ve never known anyone to go somewhere else until they’re over eighteen and graduate to one of the university facilities or into the seminary.”
“No one?” Logan dropped his voice to match Jonathan’s.
“Not a one,” Jonathan sighed with heavy sorrow. “I’m sorry, Logan. They must think that you have no one else.”
Logan nodded, fighting back tears. “I guess I don’t,” he admitted. “My parents died and they think my sister did too. And there’s no one else, really. Maybe an uncle that has nothing to do with my parents any more…”
“Well,” Jonathan opened the common room door. “You have here now.”
Logan sat on the couch and flicked through the TV channels until he found something to watch. For a moment he sat staring at the screen without really seeing it and then he covered his face with his hands and began to cry.
Havermouth, Present Time Heath woke into darkness. His werewolf sight could not even determine a pinprick of light. The darkness was heavy, smothering. “Talen?” He asked. His voice sounded muted, as if he were in a closed, tight space. He reached out and felt nothing however… And that was terrifying. There was no floor, no walls. He did not understand how it was that he was not falling… or perhaps he was. His breathing was rasped through lungs constricted by panic. “Shh,” a woman murmured. “Hush now, do not fear. Nothing will harm you here. Indeed,” there was amusement to her voice. “There is nothing here to harm you.” “Who are you?” He demanded, fear turning into anger. “Some Van Helsing trick?” “Hmhmhm,” she chuckled softly. “No, white wolf.” “Where is Talen?” He sat up slowly, relying on his stomach muscles as there wasn’t a floor to brace his hands against. “Where are we? Why… isn’t there a floor?” “So many questions. We are in the beginning, the aether, the place where we
Havermouth, Present TimeCameron and Rhett stood by the front window of Mr Claymont’s house with the lace curtains pushed back, looking out at the street as the crowd began to clear. A riot had broken out in response to the explosion of the school and had blocked the Van Helsings’ efforts to reach their destroyed base. The Havermouth rioters had destroyed several of the Van Helsings’ vehicles until guns had been drawn and bullets had been fired.Just as things had been on the verge of turning into a massacre, the fire had begun to spread out from the school, and Havermouth’s residents had rushed to help the homeowners save their property whilst others had dragged those injured by the Van Helsings retaliation into nearby houses.Into the chaos and mania of it all, the fleeing werewolves had just been another strangeness of the day, with people shrieking and screaming as their fur brushed against them, but otherwise taking no action against them, too occupied with the fire and gunmen, a
Havermouth, Present TimeThe f-ker!Aislen woke angry and sore. Her whole body ached, but her head and throat most of all. She was f-king going to kill that arsehole of a torturer, she thought.She was lying on her back on a bed, but not somewhere private. Around her she could hear the murmur of voices, groans and moans, the rattle of metal against metal, and crying. It stank. Layers of sweat, urine, faeces and… rotten meat.She opened her eyes and looked through a mesh of metal bars at the pressed tin tile design within the coffered ceiling high above her and the elaborate chandelier that dangled from it. Not what she’d expected having smelled the room, she thought, sitting up.It was a large long room, with a heavy velvet curtained stage set on one end and a wall of double doors at the other. In between the two ends, rows of cages had been set, each one only long enough to fit a trundle bed and twice as wide. Many of the cages were empty, like the one directly next to Aislen’s bed,
Havermouth, One Week BeforeTony had the police officer tied by his wrists and dangling over an open oubliette in the barn when Talen arrived, and looked up from a toolbox which was set on the pushed back stone lid. “Alex, this is Talen. Talen, meet Alexander Grennith.”“F-k you,” the werewolf was in the policeman’s eyes, but with his weight on his shoulders, and his wrists tied, he could not shift without risking tearing his arms from the joint, an injury that would be both intensely painful and potentially life-alteringly disabling.“No thank you,” Talen replied as he rolled up his sleeves. “Did you have any trouble?” He asked Tony.“No,” Tony was amused. “I took Sigrid with me, and she distracted him at the front door whilst I took him from behind. He did not know what happened. We bundled him into his own car, and I wore his jacket and hat. Anyone who saw me would have thought he was going on a date. I dropped Sigrid at the Ute and she drove it home for me.”“I didn’t know that Si
Havermouth, Two Weeks BeforeCameron creeping out of the bed and around the room getting dressed woke Heath. He was pressed tightly to Talen’s back, half drowning in the vampire’s blonde hair, with his arm over Talen’s waist and he was disinclined to move from the position. Used to Cameron’s early mornings, once he’d registered what the movement was about, he closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep only for Aislen to mutter a complaint as Rhett wriggled out from under her.“I have a client coming at nine,” Rhett explained his movement. “I have to go set up.”“Too early,” Aislen grumbled.“I know, but they work afternoons, and it will take a good three hours,” Rhett yawned widely as he slid out of the bed.Talen shifted in order to pull Aislen back against him, snuggling her into the spoon of his body. “Sleep some more, Morgana,” he murmured. “You need to rest in order to heal.”Rhett cursed as he stumbled and Cameron smothered his laughter. “Careful. F-k man, you’re not a good m
Havermouth, Two Weeks Before“I could do with a cigarette too,” Aislen announced. “And a glass of wine.”“It’s not even midday,” Heath protested immediately.Aislen’s eyeroll said it all. “I wasn’t asking for permission. I’ve had a pretty shitty couple of days, and I want to f-king have a cigarette and a glass of wine on the porch of my house and so that’s precisely what I am going to do,” she began to get dressed. “If you’re all going to be bitches you can leave.”Heath spotted her underwear tangled at the foot of the bed and retrieved them, untangling them as he handed them to her. “I’ll go open a bottle.” He stepped out into the hallway and closed the door before leaning against the wall and heaving out a sigh.Rhett and Cameron now knew about the miscarriage, but he felt as if the Triquetra had narrowly avoided disaster with the discussion that had followed, and the adrenaline spike had left him shaky with his heart racing against his ribs. The conversation had also shaken free a