Modeshe - 18XX

The screams of the unfortunate had plagued my sleep for one too many nights; the madness ringing long past the punishments that rendered them silent. I hear them still in my dreams.

My faculties intact, I allowed my mind to be presumed as broken as my body. An empty shell; all memories forgotten, and all wordly connections shattered. It was not so far removed from the truth. That the man I had followed to this place deserted me...

Hateful, wretched man.

I pinned my hopes to his star, and let it carry me across the ocean to this land of stifling heat and foreign discourse. Prepared as I was to live a life of unconvention beneath his will, even that could not suffice to bind him to me. Mr Jedd revoked our understanding, and agreed to marry the prospect chosen for him by Strattons.

I felt as though my life had come to its pitiful end. Little did I expect that it would fall instead to the hands of another.

It has been three days since I was liberated from the asylum in which I was interred, and brought to this most comfortable of prisons. The peculiar Mr Black has declared himself my benefactor, and stole me away from that cruel and suffocating hell.

His servants dare not speak, and yet my every need is attended to. Food is served, my bandages changed, and my body continues to grow in strength. My days are spent in the shade of the garden as the master tends to business, my evenings are his alone.

He regales me with stories of invention; that we have traversed this world as lovers. His intensity would have me fall victim to his lies, I cannot allow my mind to be so affected! If not for the hostility of the butler, Bryant, I daresay I would have believed that my past life had truly belonged to Mr Black.

'You do not belong here' Bryant tells me...

I do not. There is no place on earth to which I belong.

A visitor arrived at the house. An acquaintance of sorts from my time with Mr Jedd. The youth displayed his concern and delivered unto me a veritable library to entertain me in my convalescence; believing as the others, that I have lost all sense and forfeited my independence. I read to pass the time, and yet the pages on which I pause are never again found. Bryant removes the markers when my back is turned.

When his master concludes his work and desires my company, Bryant returns to his obsequieous self; only in seclusion will he seek to cause mischief. I dine under the watchful eye of Mr Black, and yet the man himself partakes in nothing but wine, my own appetite being all that can satiate him.

'Is it to your taste?' he asks of me, 'Is there food enough to tempt you?'

The delicacies I savor are beyond deserving of such a simple palate. I am tended to as though a member of nobility, rather than the errant son of a shopkeeper. As the evening draws deeper and my vigor begins to wane, he bids me a good night and feigns retiring to his chamber.

I can feel the bitter chill of his ice-cold stare from the foot of my bed... he watches me as I sleep.

As I took my place in the parlor, my every intention to focus on my book of poetry and ignore the unnerving stare of Mr Black's piercing eyes, a careless hand spilled the tea as it was served. My bandages sodden, and my skin turning pink where scalding droplets had rained upon me, Mr Black leapt to my side with unnatural speed.

The servant denied his wrongdoing. A disciple of Bryant, he believes me an inferior in this house, and laid the blame most vehemently at my door. Had his master's eyes been not so readily trained upon my person, he might have suspected that I inflicted the damage myself. A maid was charged with ushering me from the room to change my soiled dressings and put me to bed, as Mr Black took it upon himself to chastise the hapless footman.

By morning, I overheard the servants. That the footman had been released from his employment was deemed uncertain... some believe him to have vanished without a trace. 'Like the others', they said.

No man nor woman would speak further on the matter. My questions remain unanswered. Only Bryant sought to fuel my fears... 'You shall be next' he told me, 'You are not the first to come here that no soul would think to miss...'

I locked my door. As I slept I could hear him, scratching like a cat...

My wounds have all but healed, only my arm remains a constant source of discomfort. Mr Black has grown bolder, moving me into his bedchamber in order to better observe the final days of my recovery. Bryant sneered as my meagre possessions were placed beside his master's.

Tonight I shall share his bed...

Dressed head to toe, that no inch of skin went left uncovered, I listened for the sounds of Mr Black ascending the staircase. His appearance in the room came without warning. I feigned sleep and turned my back...

The restless night seemed to last for an eternity. 

Come morning, Mr Black was gone. Only the turned down bedcovers and the lingering coldness remain as proof that he had been here at all. Bryant woke me rudely, stripping back the sheets in his determination to glean some evidence of our improper conduct; or lack thereof... It seems the prospect of his master acting on impure urges is driving him to distraction.  

The day passed as any other, with no sign of Mr Black, and only Bryant's watchful eye to pass for 'company'. When lunch was served, a large spider crawled across the plate of cold meats as it was placed down before me, jolting me from my chair.

My appetite was gone.

At dinner, too. Despite the presence of Mr Black at the table, the laugh that Bryant stifled earned my distrust of the lamb that was presented. I did not eat.

In the privacy of our bedroom, Mr Black asked once again why I was not eating. Had I fallen into melancholy? Was I sick? Was the food not to my taste..?

My silence provoked him. 

The household was assembled in the parlor as he raged at each in turn, with none daring to answer. In a fit of frenzy he expelled them all from the house. Even Bryant was not spared.

'Tell me' whispered my benefactor, his cold fingers wrapping around my own, 'What has transpired here that no man dare speak of it..?'

My fear was not of Mr Black's fervent intensity... but that my words would not be believed. The matter was left unresolved.

The following day, order had been restored. The servants returning to their positions, and Mr Black returning to whatever business kept him so occupied each day. Bryant delighted in the continued power he wields over me, his actions growing bolder.

I had taken a turn about the garden and returned to my usual spot on the terrace when the weather turned cold, and the heavens opened. I rushed towards the house, shielding my book as best I could from the rain... the door was locked. I saw the servants wavering inside, unsure if they should open it or risk Bryant's displeasure.

I banged on the glass of the large french windows and ordered them to receive me. Soaked to the bone, I could no longer distinguish which were raindrops that fell down my face, and which were the rivulets of my tears. 

After an hour, there seemed to be some commotion inside; a startled maid ran to unlock the door and fearfully hurried off as to absolve herself of complicity. It seemed the master had returned.

A fire was lit in the master's chamber, and a bathtub readied beside it. I was carried upstairs and divested of my clothing; not by any servant, but by Mr Black himself. His dark countenance contradicted the care of his cold but gentle touch. My shivering, naked form was submerged into the warm and fragrant waters he had prepared for me; his desire to behold me outweighing the guilt that had thus far kept his gaze from wandering too closely.

He fears that the cold has seeped too deeply into my bones... that my constitution is not strong enough.

He tells me there is a way... that I ought not to be afraid of what I will become, for the others shall have greater cause for fear. As my body warms and my mind clouds, my vision begins to blur. The blue of his eyes is changing... a glint of white at his mouth... I see a monster more beautiful than my most vivid imaginings would have allowed.

The pain at my wrist is but fleeting... my body convulsing as my heart stills its last... the ice spreading like spider webs through my veins... 

'Awaken' he tells me, 'You must eat'.

In the bed in which we share, I am dressed in my nightclothes... my body as weak as when Mr Black had found me. No tray has been readied, and no intent perceived that I should be taken to dine elsewhere. I look to the master to allay my confusion.

'Here' he says with deep concern, lifting the bound and bloodied body of Bryant to my pillow, 'Eat something, my love...'

The muffled cries of injustice mean nothing to me now, the scent of him is like a drug... the longer I resist, the more it pains me. What use is pain? I sink my teeth into the proffered neck and marvel at the ease with which they break his skin like butter.

When the sweetness floods my mouth, my greed abounds. The first bite is not enough to satisfy my hunger, I plunge my teeth into every unbroken inch and sup my fill until the coarsely bitten flesh no longer tempts me.

'Is it to your taste?' he asks of me.

The body drained and tossed aside, my benefactor has another already prepared to tempt me. 

'It is not blood for which I hunger' I tell him, my body surging with lustful vitality, 'It is your flesh I crave... ' 

In the hours of night I succumb to my every desire, the creature fulfilling each in turn. As daylight plagues the earth, we retire to our sanctuary below; entwined in a cold embrace as we await the coming of our satisfaction.

Tonight it comes.

Tonight, Mr Jedd and the Strattons will be joining us for dinner...