The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

This is a piece from one of my stories:





“Where am I?” she asked, puzzled as to this place.



The room was large, old fashioned with an arched roof. She stood by a big, roaring fire that lit up the ornate fireplace. Above the mantelpiece was a large gilt framed mirror which held her reflection. Her eyes shone brightly back at her. Turning around she took in her surroundings. The floor was stone and she stood upon a sheepskin rug. Each wall was lit up by three sconces which emitted a dim flickering candle glow to the room. One wall was embellished with three stuffed animal heads. A stag, a bear and a wolf. The wall opposite to that had four rifles hung upon it in the centre. Two high backed, dark red leather chairs flanked the fireplace. As she stood lost within her thoughts the silence was broken by the creak of a large oak door opening up into the room.



“Sit down then dear; what is the point of standing up when there is a seat to sit on?”



Dr Selway! What on earth was he doing here? In fact, where WAS here? He entered the room followed by two ferrets that walked on their hind legs. One held a dark green ledger, the other a magnifying glass.



“We are gathered here today…” Dr Selway announced, “To ascertain the state of your mind. Has your heart been fed? Did you feed the stars tonight?”



He sat opposite her studying her face, all the while the ferrets nodding saying ‘yes, yes yes’



“Talking ferrets!” She exclaimed.



“Hush now Toriavic! I did not ask your mouth to talk!”



“Where are we? I want to go…now!”



He grimaced, shaking his finger at her. The ferret placed the green ledger on his lap and stepped back.



“Now then Vic…toria, the rules emphatically state that you must attend when beckoned.” He muttered, scanning the flimsy pages of the ledger. “Failure to do so means a star will drop from the firmaments and you will be held accountable young lady!”



“What rules? I am not responsible for the stars. You have talking ferrets!”



“Come in, you’re letting the light out! Hurry up damn you, time is fleeting, time is money, time is ticking!”



She turned her head to look as the door once again creaked open. Slowly it revealed a dark figure, its features not clear. Its shadow crawling across the floor like a mass of beetles quickly scurrying towards her chair. The ferrets laughed. Dr Selway fiddled with his wire rimmed spectacles.



“I don’t like this! I want to go!” The panic enveloped her very being, making it hard for her to catch her breath. “I want to go!”



A gasp of breath and her eyes opened to a fresh morning. She sat bolt upright in her bed in the state of half asleep, half awake. Focusing on the floral pattern of the curtains she breathed a sigh of relief when she realised it had all been but a dream. Even so it had left her a little anxious. Reaching for the glass of water on the bedside cabinet she popped a pill into her mouth and swallowed.



Feeling more refreshed after her shower she joined the others at the breakfast table. It was Monday morning, the first session as an outpatient in the next course of her treatment. There was no choice in the matter but it didn’t mean she had to like it. The family sat in silence, eating the egg and bacon that Joanne had cooked. Mother always insisted that breakfast should be enjoyed as it set you up for the rest of the day.



“I can drive you to the hospital Vicki, rather than depending on public transport” suggested father.



Twenty minutes later Vicki was standing by the entrance of the hospital. Ambulances were parked at the front, some with patients alighting from the vehicle with the help of paramedics. Dotted about were people stood outside under the huge porch smoking cigarettes and chatting. She could never see it as the ‘done thing’ to be standing outside smoking whilst in dressing gown and slippers yet she, herself, had done this very same thing when she was a long stay patient. She smiled to herself, happy to no longer have to stay in those clinically fresh, sparse rooms. Nearing the glass automatic sliding doors she caught her breath, taking hesitant steps into the building and checking in at the reception desk.



The room was very different from Dr Selway’s office. This one was modern and had white walls. Instead of a huge desk that swallowed the space in the room, this one had a basic pale wood desk which served its purpose and nothing more. Vicki seated herself on the black padded chair that faced where the doctor would be sitting. He had not entered the room yet. Looking around she noted the lack of ornate things in the room. There was a pile of files sat neatly to the left hand side of the desk and a laptop rested in the middle. On the right hand side of the table sat a beige telephone. One corner of the room was home to a large green leaved pot plant which appeared to be well looked after. One of the walls sported a row of four framed pictures, prints of Monet. The one saving grace of the room was the window, or more rather the view from the window. Even so the view was spoiled by the vertical beige blinds that hung from the rail.



Absentmindedly she retrieved her phone from her bag and checked the time. Stifling a yawn she looked toward the door, willing Doctor Jason - who she had never met before - to enter the room. Five minutes had gone by and she didn’t like waiting. Her father had instilled in them contempt for tardiness, that it was not good manners and tardiness was frowned upon in their family.



“My apologies Miss Moore, I had an unexpected urgency arise. Would you like a coffee?”



He was nothing like she expected him to be. Rather than a grey haired stiff upper lipped strict father figure, this man had somewhat of a relaxed manner. He wore a white shirt, opened at the neck with no tie under a dark brown suit jacket and a pair of faded designer jeans. He looked in his forties.



“Hello Doctor Jason”.



“Please Victoria, don’t call me doctor. I don’t wish too formal a relationship with you. Call me Mr Jason, or, if you so wish, Daniel.”



Well this was a turn up for the books. This man seemed amicable, someone she could relax with but she was still wary of whom she could trust. He opened up the laptop and brought one of the files from the pile onto his knee. For a minute he read the file then typed necessary details onto the screen of the lap top. Looking up he smiled at her.



“I am going to come straight to the point here. May I ask, are you religious? From a psychological point of view there is a reason I ask this, as when and if you have an episode of these terrors perhaps it would help if you called for protection. Maybe help you feel more in control. It could be worth a try. “



Surprised by his approach she informed him that she wasn’t particularly into praying and didn’t think that would help. In her mind she noted that Daniel had considered this may be more than imagination and this gave her a spark of hope, maybe she could trust this guy and he wouldn’t ridicule her. Time would tell. There was nothing to lose really as she had no choice in attending these sessions for the next three months.



The hour went quickly, Daniel’s laid back attitude had effected Vicki in a positive way and by the end of the session he felt he knew her a little more, knew how to bring her out of herself. She left the office with a spring in her step.



Arriving back at her parent’s house she went straight up to her bedroom to change out of her formal outfit. Being brought up by Henry and Joanne she was always immaculately dressed for any official interviews, in fact she was always well dressed even for nipping down to the local store. Now she was home her plan was to slip on an old pair of jeans and a baggy tee-shirt. As she opened the bedroom door she noticed a black shape on top of the bed. Amadeus! She quickly sat on the side of the bed and stroked his soft black fur. He stretched his front legs, nuzzling his face into her hand and began purring. He was no longer that little bundle of fur; he was now a sleek beautiful looking cat. She looked into his deep green eyes and felt at peace with the world.



***********



Not that I think anyone would but please do not take this work as your own or use it anywhere without my prior permission. I do have copyright to this, I am the author and this is part of one of my novels.

Such a cosy little room, it had everything she really needed. Portable television perched upon the chest of draws, the big comfortable bed with its matching duvet set in lilac. The big green, high backed comfy chair which had been brought from her old house. Boy, that chair could tell some stories if it could speak. The wallpaper that was a basic plain magnolia colour with the odd family photo breaking up the monotony of the plain walls. Photos of her grandsons and a couple of her daughter. Happy times.



Usually sitting by the radio on the bedside cabinet and taking pride of place, was a framed photo of her wedding day. Dear, wonderful George. Oh how she missed him. But this evening as she sat relaxing in the big green chair her mind began to wonder back to that day as she held the treasured photo. They were fortunate enough to have had a glorious sunny wedding day and the church was full of their family and friends. It was 17th July 1927 and she was a young bride. She remembered it well. That moment when her father walked her down the aisle to her soon to be husband, George. How she felt elated and so very much in love. She sighed and a tear trickled from her tired eyes. Where had the time gone?



A knock on the door brought her out of her reminiscence as Tracey entered with her medication.



"Evening Beatrice....oh love, what's up?



Seeing the little old dear with tears in her eyes brought concern from Tracey, as she reached for the tissues and passed one to Beatrice. Making sure Beatrice was comfortable by adjusting the cushion on the chair Tracey listened intently to the little silverhaired woman as she told her about her George and how she missed him.



"He used to call me his Little Bee" Beatrice said smiling proudly.



Passing the medication - two little tablets in a little plastic cup - Stacey brushed Beatrice's hand affectionately and offered a glass of water to swallow them down with. The same procedure at the same time every day, to help her sleep. She had been a resident in Wild Briars Home For The Elderly for ten years, ever since she had taken a nasty fall in the kitchen at her old house. Her carer had found her a few hours later and Beatrice was in hospital for quite some time with a broken leg. She was eighty three then and her leg had never fully healed properly which had left her dependant on a walking stick to move about. Her daughter decided she would be safest in a retirement home and here she was. It was a nice home by all accounts, the staff were friendly and her and Tracey had become good friends. Such a bubbly girl Tracey, always lifted Beatrice's mood.



Tracey helped Beatrice into bed, plumping the pillows for her. Although Beatrice was ninety three she was still a very attractive woman and wore her hair up in a bun during the day but now she lay there, her hair brushed and free from the bun. Tracey smiled as she looked upon this gentle frail woman with a halo of long silver hair framing her elderly face as she lay there.



"Would you like me to leave the radio on for you Beatrice?"



Beatrice nodded and thanked Tracey who closed the bedroom door gently behind her. The sounds of classical music filled the room as she lay there. Her mind ventured back to happier times with George. She laughed to herself as she relived one particular holiday they had in Spain, how poor George had got sunburnt and her rubbing calomine lotion all over him. She remembered her daughter Elaine as a toddler and how close she was to her father. "Daddy's little girl". Elaine was sixty now. The same age Beatrice was when she lost George. He would have been so proud of his daughter and adored his grandsons. He would have doted on them, but it wasn't to be. He died before they were born. They'd often asked about their grandad as they were growing up and Beatrice would tell them stories of his escapades, some of which would make them giggle.



The medication was beginning to take effect and Beatrice was finding it difficult to keep her eyes from closing. The soft music notes were lulling her senses carrying her into a lovely realm of relaxation, or was it the medication? Nontheless she didn't fight the feeling as her body relaxed deeper into the bed, into the dream state. She had not a care in the world as she succumbed to sleep.



"Wake up dear..." the voice echoed in her head.



"Little Bee...it's time"



Beatrice opened her eyes and saw him standing by the side of the bed. George. Tears welled up in her eyes as he reached out his hand to her. Without hesitation she took his hand and stood by his side, noticing that her leg didn't hurt. He looked just like the wedding photo. He hugged her tightly and kissed her. Looking into his eyes she thought this must be a dream but when she turned to face the bed she saw a frail little silverhaired lady at peace. It all made sense to her now, George had come back for her and she smiled.



The next morning Tracey let herself into Beatrice's room carrying a cup of tea for her and a card. She laid these down on the bedside cabinet and went to open the curtains. It was a glorious sunny day. As the sunlight flooded the room Tracey realised that Beatrice had passed away. She took a moment and stood by the bed holding Beatrice's cold hand saying her goodbyes to a wonderful woman. She then took the card from the envelope. Every year Tracey had bought Beatrice an anniversary card in memory of the day Beatrice and George had got married. Today was no exception. Standing the card next to the wedding photograph Tracey smiled.



"Happy anniversary Beatrice and George, may you dance the night away" she whispered as she wiped away the tears.