Author's Notes:

'Bride in Black' is my story for Literotica's Beyond the Wall of Sleep story event.

This is my first attempt at writing Gothic Horror. I hope it's not... horrific!

Yeah... I got nothing.

First published in 2019, it was given a little polishing on 2024.01.12 for publishing on Amazon and refreshing on Literotica.

All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.

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Bride in Black

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Chapter 1

"Eleanor Ward."

Saying the name out loud in the empty train cabin didn't ease any of the dread clutching at Eleanor's heart, and a sick chill seeped into her bones. While her current surname, Buntington, may have had less gravitas, at least it didn't come with a fiancé almost three times her young age of twenty-three years.

She glanced down at the wrinkled parchment of the letter from her father once more, her eyes feverishly hunting for some clever wording to disclose the hidden jest of it all or perhaps an escape clause in this sick contract.

The cruel reality was her father's rough scratching was equally blunt in his prose.

She was to return from London to the family manor at once. Her allowance, which allowed her to remain in the city and attend the university, was immediately cut off, aside from the small sum required to pay for her return by train and carriage.

The reason for his drastic and sudden change of heart? He was dying. He didn't have much time left, according to his doctor.

He had no male heirs. Eleanor was the only child his wife had managed to carry to full term and birth live. With no male to carry on the family name, her father decided to marry off his only daughter to his neighbor and merge the estates.

The man who was to be her husband was a widow and had no legitimate male heirs of his own. A few bastards, yes, which just proved he held no respect for the sanctity of wedding vows.

Eleanor's new purpose would be to give this man a male heir. She shivered at the repugnant idea.

Her father believed her flight of fancy, attending veterinary school in London, was a needless waste of her potential as a breeder.

Eleanor's stomach once more attempted to escape from her mouth, and she held her handkerchief over her lips as she forced the bile back down.

Her friend Becky had been trying to convince her to become a nurse for years. While she knew the career was noble, her intense curiosity, voracious appetite for knowledge, and ambition pushed her in a different direction. Her first inclination was to be a medical doctor, perhaps even a surgeon, but the violent backlash she'd experienced when she attempted to pursue that goal had proven too daunting. Her affinity for animals and one sympathetic professor made her alternate career choice a natural path to follow, not that her father understood.

From the professor's personal library, she'd read a copy of Charles Darwin's recently published book, 'On the Origin of Species' and knew in her heart she was reading the truth. At the very least, it was closer to the truth than anything she'd previously been exposed to.

Then the letter arrived and destroyed her plans.

After hearing the news of her best friend's summons to return home, Becky begged her to apply to the newly opened Nightingale Training School and Home for Nurses at St Thomas' Hospital. Her father would see the merit in such a distinguished pursuit in a proper career for a woman!

Even her best friend didn't understand Eleanor's dream.

She'd seriously contemplated refusing her father's command, but London was such an expensive place to live. The allowance he'd given her barely enabled her to afford the tiny room in the boarding house, her tuition, and school supplies. For the latter, she'd begun accepting the charity of the university's discards and made great use of the library for textbooks.

Only the kind professor's generosity in sharing the occasional lunch kept her from starving.

After all that, she had no savings to pay her way, nor was she willing to marry just to have a place to live. Husbands weren't likely to allow their spouses to leave the house for anything more than the daily shopping. If she were married, there'd be no possibility of her continuing her studies.

She held onto the faintest hope that she might convince her father on his deathbed to change his mind and free her from this existence of servitude.

He'd doted on her once and loved her enough to let her follow her dreams to London. She'd tried to instill in him a sense of pride by sending him letters with reports on her achievements, which seemed to work for a time. Then, her expenses increased, but her allowance did not. Soon, she couldn't afford to send letters as frequently, then not at all. She cursed silently as her lack of contact was likely one of the main factors that allowed him to have a change of heart about supporting her.

She dabbed at her tears of frustration before they had a chance to fall. She would not allow herself to give in to the despair in her heart. She would find a way to change her imposed destiny.

Her stomach grumbled, complaining at the emptiness where a meal should have been.

To make the train, she'd had to miss breakfast. With no traveling money, she skipped lunch as well. The train was so slow and stopped frequently, so it was approaching mid-afternoon when she drew close to her first destination. From there, it would take a carriage ride of a few hours on rough roads to get to her father's manor.

The tiny village of Bailey-on-Theeds was the end of the line for the train. She might be the only passenger on the train at this point. Few traveled here, and the residents rarely left. She was surprised the rail system continued to service the station. They had to be losing money just on the coal burned to get there and back from the previous station.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Eleanor jumped. She saw it was the stern conductor staring in at her. She nodded, and he opened the door.

"Final stop. You have baggage in the car?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes, a small trunk," she replied as she tried to settle her nerves.

He gave her a quick nod and left.

With a sigh, Eleanor put the letter back into her purse. Her limited clothes fit within the small case she carried with her. The remaining items, stored in the trunk, were all related to her schooling and were the most precious things she'd ever owned.

When the train finally came to a stop, she rose and carried her belongings from the train. The conductor assisted her down to the platform.

Looking in both directions, she saw no sign of the carriage that was to take her to her father's estate. The conductor climbed back aboard as she continued to search.

A terrible crash sounded behind her, and she spun to see her trunk had been dropped from the baggage car.

"Be careful with that!" she called out angrily, her temper stoked by her hunger.

"It was too heavy," the young man in the baggage car snapped back at her, scowling angrily.

She rushed closer and saw the trunk was damaged. A wide crack ran up one side.

"You've ruined my trunk! You're going to pay for its replacement!" Eleanor insisted.

The train worker jumped down and marched over to glare down at her. He had to be close to six feet tall and towered over her five-foot-four frame as he fixed his glare on her.

"I don't have to pay for nuffin'! You're not the bloody Queen, giving me orders!" he spat. She could see he wasn't hired for his intellect.

Though cutting words were poised on the tip of her tongue, she said nothing as her common sense finally decided to surface. Her lips remained closed, though she couldn't keep her disgust from her expression.

The train began to move, so, with a final snort, the big thug used both hands to give Eleanor a firm shove against her chest. The act caught her by surprise. She only had time to squeak in shock before falling with bruising force on the hard cobbles.

The baggage worker grabbed a handle on the side of the train car, swinging himself up and inside the door quickly. She heard his braying laughter as the train moved away.

Standing painfully once more, she felt the ache deep in the muscles of her bottom. That would make her long carriage ride especially unpleasant. Not that any other aspect of this journey had been particularly joyous.

Once more, dismay and dread swept over her, and she fought back a gasp as tears threatened to fall. Only through sheer force of will was she able to hold them off. She took deep, even breaths until she felt her emotions calm.

Dusting herself off, she picked up her dropped purse and case to walk over to the trunk. She gripped the handle and dragged it under the shelter of the station's extended roof. A glance at the skies showed nothing but dark grey clouds. The air seemed to tingle in anticipation of the incoming storm.

She went to the ticket window in the station building as she'd seen movement inside.

"Hello?" she called out, and a moment later, an older man appeared on the other side of the glass. He removed the plate covering the mesh he could speak through.

"Yes?"

"My name is Eleanor Buntington. I was told a carriage would be waiting for me when I arrived. It was to take me to my father's estate."

The man nodded as he looked at some papers on the counter inside. Eleanor heard him mumbling to himself then he looked up at her.

"Yes, there was a request for a carriage, but it was canceled—"

"Canceled?!?" she blurted.

"Don't interrupt me, dear. It's rude!" the stationmaster said with a scowl.

"My apologies. It's been a frightful day," she said contritely.

The old man was visibly upset and scowled as he attempted to settle himself.

"As I was saying, the carriage was canceled as we were informed another carriage would be arriving to take you to the estate." He paused his explanation to look past her at the empty street. "It was to have been here when the train arrived. It must be late."

Eleanor bit back the sharp response that flashed into her mind and nodded. Instead, she took a breath and smiled at the man. "Did the person who indicated the second carriage would pick me up leave their name?"

Sighing wearily, the gentleman looked at the papers once more. "It was a Mr. Hughes."

Eleanor didn't recognize the name. "I don't know a Mr. Hughes."

The older man blinked at her. "Well, he knew your name, the train you were arriving on, and that there was a carriage reserved."

Eleanor's unease just increased. She looked around and then back to the man. "Is the other carriage still available?" She believed her father would pay the driver when they arrived.

"No. The driver went home, and by now, the horses are back in their stalls for the night," he explained slowly. "You may sit on the bench under cover of the roof and be patient for Mr. Hughes' arrival. The station is now closed, and my supper is waiting for me. Good day."

He closed the little window without further delay, leaving her gaping at his quick departure.

The wind picked up, and with it came the first hints of the rain to come.

Out of options, Eleanor dragged her luggage to the bench that was under the roof's protection. The area was open on two sides, so the wind found no obstruction to its rushing through the gap. She shivered and settled on the bench to wait as she honestly had no other recourse. Her funds were depleted, and she had no friends or acquaintances in this small village to turn to for assistance.

The wind continued to strengthen, and the promised rain arrived with a fury. She managed to avoid most of it, but the wind blowing through the passage carried the dampness, and she shivered in the shadows under the roof.

Just when she began to fear she would freeze to death, the rain slowed to a drizzle, and a glimmer of light appeared on the road leading to the station. The light grew brighter as it approached until, in the misting rain, she could make out the shape of a lantern hanging from the side of a carriage. It turned and parked next to the platform.

The footman jumped down from his position next to the driver and rushed under the roof's protection. He looked around, spotted her, and approached in the gloom. She saw he was shorter than she was and had a slight build under his rain slicker. His face was gently scarred, perhaps from a childhood disease.

"Are you Ms. Buntington?" he asked. She nodded. "Your carriage awaits," the man said with a deep bow. She almost smiled at his theatrical gestures until she saw his eyes traveling down her body.

"Are these your bags?" he asked, and she nodded once more. He lifted the case and grabbed the trunk's handle to tug it behind him.

"It's heavy!" he grunted as it scraped along the ground behind him as they walked towards the carriage.

Eleanor glanced at the man. "Yes. It contains my books and tools. Please be careful with it." She received another grunt in acknowledgment.

He moved forward, opened the carriage door, and assisted her inside before closing the door behind her.

"Oh!" she yelped in surprise as she spotted a fat man sitting on the forward bench.

After her initial fright, she became cross as the man remained silent, a leer on his broad lips.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my carriage?" she snapped, her nerves frayed.

"Listen to you. Not yet wed to my father and already placing a claim on his property," he sneered with disdain.

"Your father? Are you a Ward?"

"Silas hasn't seen value in acknowledging me as his legitimate son, so I remain Otto Hughes," he said bitterly, wiping his flushed face with a soiled handkerchief.

There was a loud thump and clatter as the footman attempted to lift the heavy trunk to the roof. Eleanor fretted about the damage being done to her prized possessions. The carriage rocked from the footman climbing up to the seat, and Eleanor looked out the small back window as she couldn't recall if she'd heard the trunk reach the roof. Then, the man's spoken name sank into her mind, and she turned to face him.

"You're the one who canceled my original carriage," Eleanor blurted as she recognized his name.

He smiled and nodded. "I did indeed. I arrived early this morning and gave them the instructions as I meant to pick you up to deliver you to your father. Then I discovered I received incorrect information on the train's arrival time. There was nothing for it but to spend the day at the local tavern while I waited. They served a delightful supper."

Eleanor fumed as he'd made these decisions for her without thought, and then he'd failed to arrive on time.

"Perhaps you could explain why you canceled the carriage my father arranged for me?" she asked as carefully as possible, trying to hide her anger.

The heavy man blinked at her and nodded as if deciding her question was worthy of an answer. "Father has seen fit to marry again and plans to have a legitimate son to inherit his estate upon his passing. I felt the need to speak to his bride-to-be to explain my circumstances and ensure certain financial obligations are met."

Eleanor held his eyes. "Financial obligations?"

Otto nodded. "The old man keeps an account I draw upon to maintain my lifestyle. This must continue."

Eleanor shook her head. "I'm sure I won't be consulted about the continuance of any financial arrangements your father may have with you."

"But you are the woman who will shortly be sharing the bed of the man who does make those decisions. I trust your feminine wiles will be put to good use," he said with another leer.

"That is a most vulgar request, sir." She stared closer at the man seated across from her. His eyes were glassy, and his face remained flushed. "A-are you drunk?" she asked incredulously.

He looked away. "I might have enjoyed some pints of the inn's fine ale." His reddened eyes returned to stare at her. "Vulgar or not, this request pertains to my future, which my father has not seen fit to guarantee. I will say what I must and take whatever steps are needed to ensure I get what I deserve!"

It was Eleanor's turn to look away as bitterness flared within her. "None of us get what we deserve."

Small eyes watched her expression, then slid down to become fixed on her modest bosom.

Trapped in her thoughts, she missed the moment Otto decided she wasn't worth the effort to sway her opinion. Granted, the man's capacity for making an effort was as limited as his compassion. He lifted his walking stick and thumped the carriage roof twice.

The noise drew her attention back to him. Then she noticed the carriage began to move more quickly.

Otto sighed to himself. "No point in delaying your journey to your... final destination, then."

Her anger flared as this man had been purposefully delaying her again! She bit back a sharp comment and turned her face from him once more.

The ride was not smooth, and each time she felt herself slipping into the grip of sleep, the carriage would jolt badly and wake her. While she had no desire to sleep in front of the vile man, the day had taken too much out of her, and she'd had nothing to eat or drink.

She lost track of time as her mind straddled the line between the realms of consciousness and sleep. In those brief moments when she surfaced long enough to note her surroundings, she heard Otto snoring loudly. Just one more element to disturb her rest.

Eleanor wasn't aware of the moment when the carriage wheels went silent. The sensation of movement continued, but the noise and vibrations simply disappeared. They were racing along as quickly as before on a smooth surface that swallowed up the sound of hooves and wheels on dirt.

Sometime later, the horses began to snort and whinny, disturbed by something, and the carriage began to slow. The driver's voice could be heard, cursing at the beasts which pulled them.

It was the animal's unease that finally drew Eleanor back to the surface. She listened carefully and heard the horse's nervous exhalations. Something was definitely spooking them.

"We've arrived?" Otto muttered as he surfaced from sleep.

She cast a glance at him and pulled back the curtain to look outside. In all directions, she could only see darkness. There was no more rain, so she glanced up and saw a few stars through the thick canopy of leaves overhead. She didn't recognize anything. This wasn't her father's estate.

"Where are we?" she asked but only received a smug grin from Otto.

The carriage suddenly jolted forward as the horses strained to escape... something. Otto pitched forward, completely off the seat, and Eleanor flung herself aside to avoid him. He screamed in agony as she stepped on his foot, which had been hidden under a blanket. He fell onto the floor as she looked at the swollen mass of reddened flesh beyond his ankle. Disease of some kind was swelling and inflaming the tissues.

"You stupid cunt! You stepped on my foot!" Otto screeched, spraying spittle on himself. "Reg! Come in here!"

The driver set the brake and climbed down with the footman. The smaller of the two men went to calm the horses by standing before them. The carriage door opened, and a tall, gaunt man looked inside.

"Somethin' in the woods scares the horses," he said to Otto, looking over at Eleanor, running his eyes over her body hungrily.

"Take the bitch outside," Otto snapped, and before Eleanor could protest, large hands gripped her arms painfully and pulled her out the door. He seized one of her arms as they stood in the lantern's dim light.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

The driver smiled at her. "Mr. Hughes said if you refused to help him, we'd get to have fun with you." He leaned closer, his breath reeking of onions and stale beer. "I'm glad you refused."

Her eyes went wide. "Help him?"

"You know, tumble his dad in bed and trick the old codger into paying for his son's fun times," the driver explained as he went back to admiring Eleanor's slim body.

Eleanor was struggling not to panic. She was in the clutches of a brute in the middle of a dark forest. This had been Otto's intention all along. She had to talk her way out of this. "I- I didn't say I wouldn't help him! I said it wasn't likely that his father would listen to me in regards to financial decisions."

Reg, the driver, just shrugged.

The carriage shifted, and Otto appeared in the doorway. He was sweating, and his face was very red. These were not good signs for his health. He glared at her with murder in his eyes.

"I'll help you with your father! I'll speak with him—" Eleanor begged, then choked off as Reg placed his finger over her mouth when Otto shook his head sharply.

Carefully, grunting in pain with every step, Otto climbed down and sighed with relief as he stood on the soft moss of the road. This was why the carriage noise had disappeared. A thick bed of moss covered the long lane leading through the forest.

When the fat man opened his eyes again, he turned his scornful expression to her. "It's too late for sweet words. You made your opinion of my request very clear. If my father intends to replace me with a new son, I'll ensure he never remarries."

"You don't need to do this! I don't want to marry him! I was going to speak to my father to get him to change his mind," Eleanor said desperately.

Otto snorted. "It's a little late for that. Unless you can speak with the recently deceased."

Eleanor froze. "What?"

"Oh! Didn't you know? Your father died five days ago," Otto said with a wide smile on his face. "Such a stupid bitch," he muttered as he shook his head.

Eleanor was stunned and felt like the gentlest breeze might blow her away.

The slap from Otto's hand caught her completely by surprise, and her head reeled back with the shock of it. She stumbled back from the carriage as Reg released her arm.

Suddenly, the horses squealed shrilly and reared to break free from the footman's grip. He caught a hoof against his temple as he tossed himself aside, barely avoiding being trampled when the carriage jolted forward. He fell against the soft moss in a daze.

The carriage's back wheel struck Otto and tossed him to the ground as it rolled over his foot.

Otto shrilly screamed in agony, and the horses shied away from the sound, dragging the carriage to the left, off the road, and into the forest. The beasts tried to run into the woods to escape.

The driver moved to regain control over the horses as their transport slammed between the smaller trees a short distance from the roadside and became stuck. He stopped and cursed as he saw how difficult it would be to back it out.

The lantern on the right side was torn from its mount and dropped to the ground with a crash. Flames erupted from the damaged fixture and threw strange shadows across the woods. This caused the horses to squeal more desperately.

In her daze, Eleanor felt something flash across the lane a short distance away, flanking the fleeing horses in the woods. Due to the darkness surrounding them, she didn't see what it was, but its rapid passage left a wake of disturbed air.

The screams of the horses peaked as the carriage shook and trembled the small trees. Eleanor could only see the back of their transport now as it rocked and jerked against the saplings trapping it in place. The sounds of the terrified animals cut off with a series of dull thumps, sharp cracks, and a final wet, wheezing sigh. The carriage went still.

Moving forward again, Reg pulled a wicked blade from under his jacket as he reached the back of the carriage. He stepped cautiously into the dim light on the left side, easing himself forward, his knife ready in his fist.

Face still stinging from Otto's blow, Eleanor stood frozen on the soft moss and tried to see what was happening in the darkness. The leaping flames from the broken lantern were quickly dying down as they rapidly consumed the remaining spilled fuel. The lamp on the left side threw very little light, and she lost track of the driver. Her nerves were humming with her tension.

Eleanor jolted as, in a flare of the flames, she saw her trunk was missing from the carriage, though her case was on the roof. She stared down at Otto, who continued to moan and wail about his foot. He must have felt her attention as he turned his face to her.

"This is your fault, you stupid bitch! Reg! Peter! Rape this cunt, then slit her throat!" he spat.

Stumbling back from his vile words, she glanced around for his men and didn't see them. Breath caught in her throat, she realized she had to run while she had the chance. Making her muscles obey her was another thing. She spun and began with a stumbling shuffle back along the moss of the road, gradually working her legs into the pumping motions of a run. Her shoes sank into the soft moss, and she had to be careful of her footing, not to twist an ankle.

She was only a short distance away when a high-pitched, terrified scream tore through the woods and was quickly silenced. Eleanor's muscles froze momentarily, making her stumble and fall, but the soft surface of the moss absorbed the impact, so she bounced and just lost a little wind. She struggled back up as she heard Otto begin to whimper and gibber hysterically. His squealing shriek cut off with a sickening crunch, and Eleanor was fleeing once more as quickly as she could.

The light was so dim, but somehow, she managed to stay in the lane as she ran, gasping for breath.

She picked up the sound of heavy breathing approaching fast and struggled to run faster. She'd been a child the last time she ran and hadn't been fast then. Now, desperation fueled her pace.

The fine hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end as the soft thump of feet on moss grew closer and closer.

Suddenly struck from behind, she went down hard, under another body. She shrieked, and the footman screamed out his fright, too. He pushed himself off, stepping on her wrist in the darkness in his haste to keep running. She gasped in pain and looked up from the ground to see his outline against the stars, showing through an opening in the canopy of leaves. He only managed one more step forward before a large shape stepped before him and punched through his chest with a loud crack and wet pop.

Eleanor squeaked her terror from a throat too tight to make words.

Lifting the dead man in the air, the brute flung the body off into the woods.

Something hot and wet splashed across Eleanor's face as she gasped in shock. She picked up the scent of iron and realized the footman's blood was on her face.

A large hand wrapped around her throat and lifted her effortlessly until she cleared the ground. She couldn't get a breath as she dangled in the cruel grip. She grabbed the arm with both hands, but it felt like stone.

She could see only darkness before her. The face of the creature was hidden in the impenetrable black of the shadows. Claws on its free hand ripped downwards through her clothes, shredding them. The night's cool air rushed in to chill her now-exposed skin. Somehow, its claws managed to avoid slicing her open as well.

She couldn't scream. She was powerless against its unnatural strength. It brutally tugged on the torn fabric until she was naked from her neck to her knees. A big hand roughly touched her most intimate places but lingered on none as if controlled by instinct but lacking interest.

Her vision was beginning to tunnel with her lack of oxygen, and her struggles weakened. Just before she completely lost consciousness, she was flung down onto her back. She lay there on the moss, gasping for breath and coughing. Eventually, she was able to get her brain functioning again. She struggled to focus her eyes on the brute standing at her feet, watching her. She could only roughly make out its outline. It had the shape of a man. A large man.

Then it dropped its weight onto her, and she screamed. A wet tongue stroked up the side of her neck as her hair was gripped in a big fist, pulling her head roughly to the right. She pushed against its chest, but it was immovable.

The skin on her neck felt like ice then a sharp pressure bloomed, followed by the oddest sensation of becoming lightheaded.

She wasn't sure if it was the cool night air against her naked skin, but she began to feel chilled, and a great lethargy filled her. Her life! It was taking her life from her.

Then, she felt a greater horror. A heat between her legs. Hard and insistent. Pushing against her most intimate place. She tried to squeeze her legs closed, but the beast was too strong. She felt a brief yet sharp tearing and then—

"NNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

The brute's mouth suddenly ripped from her throat with a snarl as it looked up towards the angry scream that was approaching rapidly from above Eleanor's head. Her eyes lifted to catch a brief flash of silver. The growl suddenly ended with a gasp, and something fell to strike her shoulder before the brute collapsed onto her, driving the wind from her lungs once more. Mercifully, the pressure between her legs was gone.

Now, though, she had no energy to push her captor off. She could smell the strong metallic scent of blood and felt it squish under her shoulders in the moss.

There was a second presence with her, which rolled the brute's body clear of hers. She turned her head and saw the body was missing its head. She heard a sudden intake of breath above her and looked towards the sound.

"What have I done? Damn... Damn, damn, DAMN!" an emotionally ragged voice raged to her left as gentle hands touched her arm and hip.

"help... me..." she managed, barely.

There was silence, and when the deep voice returned, it trembled. "To die? Or to live?"

She wondered at that question. "I want... to live."

More silence, and she was beginning to drift when the voice returned. "You may live... to regret that choice."

She heard nothing else, for she was gone.

Chapter 2

Cool sheets. A soft pillow. The crackle of a fire echoed oddly as if in a large operating studio.

Eleanor gasped in a breath and moaned in agony as her neck sent sharp pains through her entire body.

"Try not to move, dear. Your injuries are quite severe and have not healed."

The voice was feminine and... older. Eleanor opened her eyes and slid them in the direction of the speaker.

"Has a doctor been called?" she whispered as she hadn't the strength to speak louder.

"No, dear. No doctors visit this estate. Haven't in decades. No one visits. You were a surprise."

Eleanor blinked and struggled to focus on the woman's words as they made no sense. "Where am I?"

"You're at the King Estate. The young master will be back in a day or so. He's dealing with the mess the old master left in the laneway," the kindly woman explained.

"...estate of the King?" Eleanor gasped with widening eyes.

A gentle chuckle met her incredulity. "Not the King. The King family estate. Not much of a family these days, though. Just the young master, now."

"Is that... is he the one who saved me?" Eleanor asked weakly.

The old woman nodded with a sad expression. She seemed uncomfortable for some reason.

A great thirst passed through Eleanor, and she looked for something to quench it. "Could... could I have some water?"

The woman's expression became pained. "I'm so sorry, dear. The young master forbids me to give you food or drink. It would just add to your misery, he said."

Eleanor blinked at the woman in surprise. She was to be tortured by this young master then. That wouldn't do.

She gathered her strength and attempted to sit up. Horrible pain exploded in her neck and shot through her body. The last thing she saw was the sad eyes of the old woman looking down at her.

-=-

Eleanor was vaguely aware of an interval of time passing.

She couldn't discern the length of time because she'd been in and out of consciousness. Her memories were playing tricks on her as well. She recalled a commanding voice, one she had to obey, and precise orders. She felt a growing lethargy interspersed with moments of intense energy that faded quickly. The taste of iron and the sensation of hot stickiness gently washed from her face.

Then darkness, always darkness. It came for her once more.

-=-

"Awaken."

Eleanor felt her mind being dragged back to consciousness. As in all of the previous times she heard it, she couldn't resist the command of that voice. It felt like every cell in her being vibrated in sympathy with the sound.

She gasped and recalled her last lucid period. She'd spoken with an old woman then. Her eyes fluttered open to see a man standing beside the bed. She immediately began to feel self-conscious about her condition under his dark, fierce gaze.

His long black hair desperately needed the skilled touch of a barber, though his face was cleanly shaven. He had a strong jaw, and she saw those muscles twitch as he clenched his teeth. Dark, full brows lowered above his intense yet troubled dark blue eyes. His lips turned down at the corners, yet looked like they could just as easily host a smile. She caught herself staring at his mouth, wondering if he ever used it for more sensual activities. A flush warmed her cheeks, so she looked away, then quickly back.

"You're the one who saved me?" she asked, surprising herself with how weak her voice sounded.

His frown deepened. "I've saved no one. You're still dying. You still have a chance to pass peacefully. I suggest you take it."

She looked at him in fright. "You plan to kill me after saving me from the brute and bringing me here!?!"

Anger shot through his expression but was quickly replaced by a sadness that surprised her and pained her heart to see.

He gave his head a brief shake. "No, I cannot kill you... not now, but I might be able to let you pass on. Please consider this mercy."

"I want to live!" she begged, and a look of longing slipped onto his face but was quickly hidden behind an impassive mask. He seemed to be taking a moment to calm himself.

"The injuries you received that night were mortal. There was no way to simply repair the damage. You would have bled to death, but you asked me to intervene." The mask slipped, and shame appeared on his face. "My father was right. I'm too weak. I was swayed by sentiment." He glanced at her with a strange mix of longing and anger in his eyes.

"And beauty."

With that, he turned and left, leaving Eleanor gaping at him in shock and surprise. Her thirst returned with a vengeance as the door closed, but it was too late.

He was gone.

-=-

When Eleanor returned to her senses, she felt movement and discovered she was sitting propped up in an old wheelchair, wrapped in blankets, and being pushed through a wood-paneled corridor. "Who's there?" she sighed, too weak to turn her head.

The chair stopped, and the old woman moved into view. Eleanor got a better look at her. She was dressed in a brown shawl over a brown dress. Very plump and plain but with kind eyes.

"The young master asked me to bring you to him in the study. There is a good fire burning in the fireplace," she said.

"Why is he starving me?" Eleanor whimpered.

The old woman's face showed her compassion. "There's no easy way to thwart death. It comes for us all. It came for you a week ago, but I understand you begged him to help you live." Eleanor's mind flashed to the night in question and the deep voice asking if she wanted him to help her die or live. She was beginning to get the idea that she'd chosen the more difficult path.

"The young master has been far more compassionate towards you than was shown to him. The old master forced his son through it without a thought to the pain and terror he was causing an already damaged young man." She frowned in anger. "After what the boy went through in Crimea. He came back changed, he did. It was like the joy had been crushed from his very soul."

The old woman was lost in her thoughts, then suddenly realized Eleanor was watching her. She smiled in embarrassment, then moved behind the chair to get them moving again. The wheels squeaked faintly, and the chair creaked as they passed through the hall.

Eleanor took in the rich woods on the walls and the faded and worn carpet below them. There was wealth here but from a long time ago. She saw potential in the grand design, lost to neglect and time. The home wasn't dirty, just so very tired, much like how she felt.

They finally emerged into a vast room whose walls were lined with bookshelves. Her eyes widened in awe. She'd only seen collections this large in the libraries of the university. What treasures of knowledge lay just beyond her fingertips. She felt a sudden ebbing of her strength, reminding her that she was dying and wouldn't be sharing those treasures. The unfairness took her breath away, and a tear ran down her cheek.

The old woman positioned the chair next to a single high-back chair and side table before a large fireplace with a considerable blaze inside. She barely felt the heat as her body held such a chill.

With a slight curtsy, the woman walked from the room, leaving Eleanor to get familiar with the surroundings.

She looked around and saw a large painting above the fireplace's mantle. The portrait was of a family. The father was a big man with a mane of white hair and a stern, forbidding expression. Something in his eyes disturbed Eleanor, so she looked to the mother. She was a study in contrasts to her husband. Petite and raven-haired with fine features and beautiful blue eyes, shining with joy and love.

The young boy standing between the two adults had to be the young master of the house as he looked like a younger version of the man she'd spoken to... earlier. Her time sense was severely affected.

Looking more closely at the boy, she saw he took his looks from his mother with her dark hair, blue eyes, and even the smile on his lips.

She caught motion at the far corner of the room in the shadows. The shape got closer, and she saw it was the young master. He'd been watching her?

He stopped a few feet away and studied her with a critical eye. She watched him struggle with his emotions. She thought she saw anger, grief, and, most surprisingly, longing flash by before he forced his face into a neutral expression.

"This is more difficult than I thought it would be," he forced out, his voice a rasp in his tight throat.

"What's your name?" she insisted.

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Oh! My apologies for my lack of manners! I'm Raymond King, the sole heir to everything you see around you." The vitality in his voice diminished as he spoke, and his gaze became bleak.

"Your parents—" she began.

"Dead," he said bluntly. "My mother died while I was fighting in the war. My father... I murdered the night I met you."

Her eyes widened. "Murdered?"

"He was... feeding on you... and defiling you," Raymond's voice was barely a croak as his throat was so tight.

"That... thing was your father?" Eleanor gasped, and Raymond's eyes closed in pain.

"Yes."

Horror swept through her mind as she recalled the incredible strength and brutality of the beast that attacked her. "It wasn't... that was no man!"

Raymond's eyes slowly opened as he looked down at the distress on Eleanor's face. "It's true. He was no longer Human. The years that man endured living alone in this mansion damaged him. It ripped away much of his Humanity. When I left home to join the army to fight beside my countrymen in that war, it affected him badly. I'd never had such a violent argument with him in my life. We almost came to blows." Raymond shuddered as he recalled the day. He came back to himself after a short pause.

"While I was away, Mother died, and that was the final straw for him. When I returned, I discovered the man I'd once called father was no more, and I told him as much. The tyrant who'd replaced him claimed I wasn't the son who'd abandoned his family to join in the barbarism of war." Raymond snorted gently. "I couldn't argue that point, so instead, I told him of the experiences I'd had, what I'd lived through. It was difficult to speak of, but I wanted him to know why I was... what I'd become. Maybe then he'd share with me why he'd changed."

Raymond's eyes held pain once more, and they shied away from Eleanor's. "Instead, he told me he would ensure I kept those terrible memories forever... as a reminder of my disobedience to him."

Wearily, he dropped himself into the chair facing Eleanor and looked deeply into her eyes. She froze and couldn't look away.

"He physically changed before my eyes, becoming the monstrous beast you encountered. Before I could move, he leapt upon me and crushed me to the floor. He numbed my neck with his tongue and then bit deeply until he reached my very lifeblood. He drank and drank until I felt my life slipping away."

He saw the horror in her eyes. "Yes, you remember those sensations, don't you. You've experienced them, too." He nodded before continuing. "It seemed a horrible end, but I clung to the idea that I'd finally have relief from the night terrors the war had given me. If my father had had any decency in his soul, he would have continued drinking until I was dead. I would have welcomed it."

The pain returned to his eyes as he continued. "If I'd been stronger, I would have ignored your pleas and let you escape this fate. That would have been far more merciful." His brows drew down again as his memories returned to his ordeal.

"The monster savagely attacked me to bring me to the very brink of death. Again and again, day after day, he did this. Afterward, he'd drink my blood until I could almost feel the sweet release of my mortality, and then he'd drag me back, forcing me to drink his blood, adding his vile sustenance into my veins. I was conscious and aware of it all, each time. It only ended when I found myself strong enough to fight my way free."

"STOP! Please stop!" Eleanor cried as her body shook. She struggled to get control of herself once more. What he spoke of was madness, yet... she believed every word, for he was right. She had experienced it. She needed to turn the conversation from this macabre reminiscing as it fostered a most unwelcome desperation in her. To combat the bizarre, she reached for the mundane. "Aside from being a soldier, did you have any other aspirations for your life?"

Raymond looked at her in surprise, his darkening mood derailed by her interruption. "Oh, well... I once had dreams of being a barrister or a doctor." He glanced around the room. "Somewhere in this collection are books my father purchased to assist me with my goals." He frowned as he recalled how he'd ultimately rewarded the man.

Eleanor needed him to stop focusing on his father, but all she had was her own story, so she used that. "We shared a dream then. I also wanted to be a doctor, but society doesn't seem ready for a woman in this field of study. For all our claims of civility, man slips back into savagery when confronted by unconventional thoughts and behaviors." She sighed as she hadn't meant to mention savagery, so she looked at the books. Even with the waves of lethargy sweeping through her being, her longing to read them all pulled at her soul. Her fate was so unfair! So much knowledge she would never have. "I only wish I had time to fulfill that dream, no matter the challenges."

His eyes went to hers, and it felt like a physical touch. The intensity of his gaze was breathtaking.

"I would have liked to have witnessed you graduating from medical college," he said softly.

Her breath caught in her throat at the honesty in his admiring gaze. They suddenly looked away from each other in embarrassment.

He cleared his throat and spoke without gazing at her. "I've done my absolute best to spare you what I endured, but you must be fully aware for what comes next. I pray your grasp on your sanity is as strong as your will. Stand fast, and I'll meet you again on the other side."

Finally, he looked towards her again, and her eyes felt the undeniable pull of his. She felt herself falling into those dark orbs as his pupils seemed to have grown to fill them. She was dimly aware of him moving closer, his mouth opening slowly to expose his long, sharp, white fangs, much like his fath—no! No! NO!

Her neck felt cold from the touch of his tongue, then a pressure. She struggled to breathe, to scream, to move... but she had no strength left. What little energy she had in her body was draining from her, a sip at a time.

He'd promised to save her, yet he was taking her life anyway!

Before the final dark took her, one more sensation rose to the surface of her fading comprehension. Strong hands on hers with a gentle touch, someone compassionate seeing her off.

She wasn't alone, which felt like the grandest gift of all.

"Eleanor King?" The thought came to her as a parting wish.

Then she thought, no more.

Epilogue

The long black limousine pulled up to the curb, and the driver stepped out of the gleaming ride. He hurriedly moved to the rear passenger door and opened it to assist the petite woman from the car. Dressed in a tailored black jacket over a deep red silk shirt worn open at her throat and dark slacks, the black sneakers she preferred jarred with her outfit. She refused to torture her feet in uncomfortable shoes merely for fashion. Besides, these sneakers lived up to their name.

The similarly dressed man who stepped from the vehicle behind her had wide shoulders and a broad chest, which made for a much more imposing sight. Long black hair hung to his shoulders and gleamed under the evening's streetlights.

"Thank you, Philip! You can pick us up at the brownstone tomorrow morning at eight," he said in his deep voice.

"Yes, sir. Have a good evening," the driver replied and nodded to the woman before closing the door and returning to the driver's seat.

As the limo pulled away, the woman turned to the man and smiled up at him. His lips picked up her smile, and he tipped his face down to kiss her. She purred in appreciation after he pulled back.

"How was your day?" he asked.

She grinned as she enjoyed their ritual of discussing the events of their day. He was such a good listener! "Interesting! I got to add six stents to a patient's heart."

The man's brows rose. "Six! Was blood moving through the heart at all?"

"Poor eating habits and a sedentary lifestyle. Even with the stents, if he doesn't adjust his lifestyle, he has maybe five years left, at best," she sighed.

She spoke of some new issues she'd had with the hospital administrators, who were always balking at her willful ways. He just smiled to himself, hearing about her battles.

They talked as they walked the remaining blocks to their home, another cherished daily routine.

"And your day?" she asked when she finished.

He smiled as his eyes scanned the shadows and gave her a little shrug. "I won my cases. Most of them, anyway. The judge was such an unpleasant little Troll; I found it difficult to refrain from biting him."

Eleanor's sweet giggles brought a smile back to Raymond's face as he enjoyed the delight on hers. They walked hand in hand along the sidewalk as they'd done in so many cities around the world over the century and a half they'd been together.

Soon, they'd slip into the shadows to find their meal for the night. The city never truly slept, and encountering someone walking its dark streets alone wasn't difficult. They never chose the same target twice, only those who could spare little blood. They never took more than they needed for the following day and always left their marks only slightly worse for wear but unaware of the reason. They'd also find a couple of twenties in their pocket when their senses returned to them. This was Eleanor's idea, and she explained to Raymond that it was just fair compensation for their day's meal. He'd had a good laugh the first time she'd surprised him with it.

Raymond recalled how much difficulty Eleanor had during her first months in her new state. He'd been resigned to hiding away in the mansion, venturing out only to feed on the blood of deer from the dense woods surrounding the property. Now, he had company. The terrible fate he'd imposed upon her had been a desperate act of loneliness and selfishness on his part. When she gradually understood the true nature of her condition, she forgave him and began to put her brilliant mind to work on improving their living conditions. She'd awakened something in Raymond that he'd lost in the years before his father turned him. Something precious he'd lost in the war.

He found hope.

In their time together, they'd experienced so much. Every day brought them joy just from the pure pleasure of sharing it. They took comfort in how their thoughts meshed these days. They always kept an eye on the future to see what new challenges it might bring for them to conquer as a team.

A short time later, after they'd fed, they'd almost reached their street with its cozy row of brownstones when Eleanor looked up and gasped in surprise. "Oh! That's something new!" she exclaimed.

The couple stopped as others came out onto their steps to point skywards at the rippling green light seemingly overhead. "The aurora borealis, visible over Manhattan?" Raymond pondered quietly. It was indeed awe-inspiring, but his gaze quickly turned to see how Eleanor was enjoying it. He saw the beautiful light reflected in her lovely eyes and was captured by the moment.

As the lights above began to fade, she finally noticed his attention. She snorted quietly. "Why are you looking at me when there's a gorgeous light show above us?"

He took her hands in his as they faced each other. "Your beauty captured my heart from the first day I met you—I know, not your favorite memory... but I knew at that moment I'd never see anything more beautiful in my life. I haven't been proven wrong yet."

She lifted herself on tiptoe and kissed him tenderly. She couldn't believe how much she loved him. From everything he'd shared with her, his greatest gift was time.

Now she had enough time to fulfill all her dreams and, best of all, someone to share those dreams with!