The New Generation of Witches of West End

The Blood House- The horror of Killian Gardiner in Jail after 2 years

Unbelievable, sadistic, erotic... Standing in the entry, watching everything going on around me, I had a hard time finding the words to accurately describe what exactly was going on. There was no doubt it was a dungeon. It had all the elements from slightly damp and weeping stonewalls, flickering shadows from the torches used to light up the place, to the sweet song of clanking chains. But that was where the resemblance to a typical dungeon ended.

The rumors had been going around for ages, about a place which actively encouraged blood sport, but I had mostly ascribed them to the rising popularity of vampire fiction. I knew a subset of the readers wanted more than the typical teenage angst and crystals glittering in the sun, and the Blood House would be something they'd grab on to right away. If only they knew...

"You are new here, aren't you?" Narrowing my eyes, I looked down and the blonde curly haired woman standing in front of me. I had lived most of my life being looked down on because of my height, so suddenly being in the position of doing the same to someone else, was a startling experience. Usually it was only young children, who did not quite get to my height. The woman had to have been turned at too young an age, or she was from a time when people did not grow as tall as people did now.

"Well, yes I guess you could say that." Throwing a quick glance around the room, my gaze once again settled on the woman in front of me. She reminded me of an eager puppy ready for play, but suspecting she was likely much older and stronger than I, I could not show my amusement.

"I thought so. Let me give you the quick tour of the house." I knew for sure whoever was behind the Blood House, had made comprehensive background checks. Had it been my business, I would have done the exact same thing, but an old fashioned welcome wagon...

Shaking my head, I followed behind the woman, who had told me her name was Magda. Not the kind of name you heard often anymore, unless you spent your days doing genealogical research. She definitely had to be from before my time.

As it turned out there was much more to the Blood House than just the main room. From the back, a corridor led to a few private rooms as well as theme rooms. With a laugh like a loon, Magda told me some humans apparently preferred to be blooded in a more private setting. Sheep. They were nothing more than sheep. If a mortal had found the Blood House, and had come as far as to offer themselves as willing donors, they really had nothing left to be private about.

Stepping back into the main room, my attention drifted to a particular 'station', reminding me of the fantasy I'd had involving a certain young cardinal and the Coliseum. I had wanted to tie him up in a very public display in one of the remaining arches, and have my way with him. Unfortunately I had been severely distracted by what I had found under his cassock. We never made it to the Coliseum. Instead I had tied him up where I could spend my time admire him without being disturbed. There was definitely nothing old and unused there. Perhaps I should learn more about rope work, and then revisit with my favorite cardinal soon. I knew he had spent his time atoning since I left, and he should have regained his strength by now. With a smile from the fond memories of the nights I had spent with him, I turned my attention back to Magda.

"Did anyone tell you Bob is in the house tonight? We like to call him the Italian Cook. If you stay and watch the demo on the main stage, you will see why." Magda was literally bouncing, almost hovering with excitement, and I could see a bare hint of fangs beginning to elongate. Obviously Bob was a personal favorite, so how could I say no.

With a beer in hand, I settled down in the social area of the main floor while watching and listening to the human population and those undead ones who did not mind being heard. More than a few were wondering who the new, meaning me, woman was. Assuring to know, that not everyone had been put in the know about new arrivals. And a little disconcerting. The majority of who I thought were vampires, made me feel like a baby. They were older and packed the kind of power I would be dreaming about for many decades to come. Instinctively they should know, or at least be old enough to be told.