Blood and Apples

Betrayal Tastes Bitter

          Elinor found me simply by accident. I was snooping in the basement for more of her past when she snuck up on me, scaring the boxers off me. 

    "Sorry about earlier." I mumbled.

        "Not my problem. I should control my hunger and anger better."

     She gave a wan smile. In the light of the single bulb, her eyes had taken on a lavender edge. I set down the dusty papers, wiping off my hands on my jeans. 

      "Elinor, I have to tell you something." 

    Elinor shut me up by clamping an ice cold hand around my wrist. 

      "Shh. Do you hear that?" She hissed.

       "Hear what?" I questioned.

           She dragged me further into the bowels of the basement. 

       "Mortal hearing." She said under her breath.

             "Can I finish what I was saying?" I growled.

      It was too dark to see her expression so continued.

        "Rhys, that oh so ancient and powerful vampire," I said quite sarcastically, "Has taken an interest in you." 

      "Pardon, Mason?" 

      "He likes you, Elinor. Wants to rattle your bones so to speak. He's lonely. Can I make it anymore obvious!?"

     I was rewarded with a slap.

     "Shut up! I'm not in the mood for romance. I'm trying to save you. Can't you hear that squeaking of the floorboards upstairs?!" She snarled.

        "Er, no. What's after us, ruffians or thugs?" 

       I earned another slap. Ow, I guess I deserved that one. I rubbed my stinging cheek.

        "Hunters. They're here."

   Oh. I felt stupid for saying that stuff. Elinor started to stuff me into a wardrobe but I was having none of that.

      "So, what if they're hunters? They're just human after all."

     "Not just "humans", Mason. Powerful ones, imbued with talents you could only dream about. These are the SilverStakes I'm talking about. My stepmother was one of them. Now, get into the wardrobe, Mason." 

      "No I'm not going to, Elinor. You can't make me. Besides this wardrobe smells of mothballs and might lead me into Narnia by accident." I exclaimed.

    "Do you want to be killed for harbouring a vampire? Stop acting like a petulant child, Mason."

         Well, that ended the argument. I wound up going upstairs with her carrying an umbrella. I wasn't going into battle carrying nothing. Melody flew towards us in hallway. 

      "Mason, get yourself somewhere safe." She said in a slow, calm voice.

            Oh, dear. I might have peed a little at that remark. Melody could be very scary when she was calm and serious when there was a crisis arising.

         "Melody, we know he won't do that. He's an idiot."

     "Hey!" I squeaked.

      The two vampires gave me the death stare. Elinor grabbed an ebony cloak and made her way out into the dying sunlight. I trailed behind her. Fifty hunters stood and one of them held a certain blonde. Joan. She must of told them Elinor was here. I thought of a rude word but I bit my tongue. 

    "Elinor." I warned.

       She ignored me, striding towards the hunters. The one who held Joan shoved her forward.

           "For the deed you have done, bloodsucker. I offer your reward." The male hunter spoke.

    With that he lopped off her head. Joan died with a pleasant smile upon her face. Joan's head slid neatly off and landed on the gravel. A trickle of blood ran down her severed neck. I felt like I could vomit into the rose bushes. Where was that idiot Rhys? Elinor remained steady on her path towards them. 

       "No! I won't let you!" I broke into a run.

      Then there was a shot and I fell back, clutching my ruined shoulder. Another shot came and Elinor fell. A bang echoed around the gardens and a sea of black smoke ruined my vision.

"They took them! Mason, they took the souls."

       I was propped up on a sofa and Lark was sat on the table facing me.

       "Whose, Lark?" I gasped out.

    "Elinor Winter and Rhys Burnes."

          The room was spinning violently but I regained my focus on Lark.

         "People who had been born with a soul and then become undead have their souls stored here. But if they are already born undead, that soul is thrust out of the body and comes to me. Rhys consumes the souls of the damned and I have little of those souls here. When an undead dies again, their soul goes to the gate where they either suffer or have a pleasant after life. I hate think what they'll do to those people."

    I collasped into nothingness.