I want to say she led me to the dining room, but, with the tantalizing smell of a luxurious feast, I seemed to glide straight to it without even knowing where to go. In spite of that, the odd lady seemed to always be one step ahead of me.
We went down two flights of stairs and took a right. There seemed to be dozens of portraits of many silver haired and crimson eyed men and women, the women looking especially familiar. Lots of paintings too, mostly of flowers including roses, daisies, tulips, lavenders, and so many more.
Soon though, we came to a massive oaken door. It had the image of a great tree with no leaves. It was a simple design and fit perfectly on the door. It felt both comforting and protecting, oddly enough.
After staring at it for a short while, I noticed the butler bat had fluttered up to the side of it.
The lady took a step forward and said, "If you would be so kind, Birch."
As if a spell was cast upon him, another dark cloud formed around the bat butler, but this time the cloud lingered, in fact it grew large enough to touch the floor.
Slowly, but surely, that dark cloud dissipated much like the clouds dissipated on the night I saw the shooting star. Once the cloud was gone, all that remained was a rather tall man in an appropriately sized tuxedo and top hat. His gray hair was well combed under the hat, and he had a well-kept mustache, just as equally gray. He seemed to be doing quite well for his age, but where did the bat go?
"Dinner is served, my lady," he spoke with a bow as he then turned and split the great tree down the middle, opening the door.
Oh. The realization of his identity almost hit me as hard as the blast of aroma coming from within.
This was the dinner hall, without a doubt.
Birch, I believed that was his name, held a resolute bow as the lady and I walked in and the door shut behind us. No tree on this side of the door, oh well.
I was slightly surprised to see a rather quaint looking dining room. Don't get me wrong, it was extravagant, but not to the degree I was expecting considering the rest of the house. To put it simply, it felt more like a regular dining room. I appreciated that, it felt more real, in a way. More comfortable.
That difference aside, it was still far more regal than any dining room I had been in, though I realized that literally meant nothing the moment I thought it. The table was a rich mahogany, fitted with complimenting chairs along the sides and on each end. It also had an elegant white tablecloth, laced and patterned with all shapes of flowers. Above it was a fancy chandelier that had a soft red flame that seemed to pour out of the candles. It bathed the whole room in a warm and gentle glow.
Perhaps a subversion to my expectations, there were only two plates of food, one on each end of the table. The lady motioned for me to take a seat in the closest one as she walked to the other end, taking her own seat.
I just sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do in this situation.
She broke the silence for me.
"We'll talk after your belly is full, I know you're starving, so please, dig in," she said with a smile.
I nodded and looked down at my plate.
The look turned into a stare as I realized it was a Thanksgiving dinner. There was turkey, glazed with a light spread of gravy and a dash of salt, a decently sized scoop of macaroni and cheese nestled between a fresh roll of bread with melted butter and a neat little pile of mashed potatoes, with a bit of gravy perfectly drizzling down the side of it.
Until this point, nothing had seemed real. I've been so shocked and restless that it seemed easy to pretend it was all a dream, that I would wake up and find myself cold and alone on that park bench.
Maybe it really was all a dream, but I didn't care if it was or wasn't. Hesitantly, I picked up the spoon and lifted a small serving of mac and cheese between my lips and closed.
It was delicious and it was real.
Before I knew it, I was rushing mouthful after mouthful down the hatch until I ran out, so I tried the mashed potatoes next.
The sudden change in texture and flavor hit me hard, in a good way. It was just incredibly satisfying and, before I knew it, I had shoveled all of the mashed potatoes away as well.
I felt a drop of gravy slide down my chin, and I'm sure I was a complete mess to look at. From an outsider's perspective, they would see an adorable girl wearing raggy clothing and scarfing down food like it was the first time she's ever eaten. I mean, to an extent, that's exactly what was happening.
As I started to chew through the soft and fluffy bun, I saw the lady gracefully eating her own plate as she smiled and glanced at me every now and then.
I felt a bit embarrassed in comparison and tried to eat the turkey a bit slower. It was dry, especially with the trace amounts of salt, but the light amount of gravy on it created a heavenly pair.
At some point, I felt warm tears flowing down my cheeks. It felt impossible that I was happy in this moment, but... it really was all real.
By the time I was done, I had a big fat grin. I let out a long-drawn-out sigh of satisfaction and a high pitched burp slipped out.
"S-sorry," I said, my eyes darting to the side.
She said nothing and simply smiled, continuing her meal for a few minutes until she finished, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
I noticed that, despite all the food I just ate, I was still craving more. Or, rather, I still felt restless. I still felt... thirsty.
We awkwardly sat in silence for a moment until she spoke.
"I don't believe you've finished your meal," she said somewhat smugly.
She was right. Just to the side of my plate was a silver chalice. I think I just convinced myself to ignore how it seemed to tug at my very core.
I'll admit that I'm a rather ignorant person, but I was keenly aware of the only thing that chalice could contain. I've had few interactions and most of what I know is from overhearing conversations as people walked by in the park. I didn't want to think my overwhelming suspicions were true, but the chalice was undeniable evidence. I mean, my entire body was, but I didn't want to think about that right now.
I picked the chalice up and glanced at the crimson liquid inside as it swirled so temptingly. It seemed thick and fresh. It was, without a doubt, blood and I, without a doubt, was expected to drink it right here and right now.
That restlessness within me stirred up as I nearly choked on the sweet scent. My teeth, no, fangs, began to ache with excitement. I pulled the chalice closer to my lips as my heart began to speed up. I was nervous but also genuinely excited to drink something besides stagnant water.
The cool surface of the chalice rim touched my lips and I slowly poured it into my mouth. The moment it met my tongue, any and all resistance faded. It was sweet like honey, but nowhere near as heavy. It was sating me unlike anything had ever done so before and I just kept tipping the chalice more and more, I never wanted it to run out.
Until it did.
I was absolutely ecstatic from both the meal and the blood. I patted my face dry with a napkin, like she did, and asked my first question.
"Am I a vampire?"
She let out a short laugh and responded.
"Yes."
I want to say she led me to the dining room, but, with the tantalizing smell of a luxurious feast, I seemed to glide straight to it without even knowing where to go. In spite of that, the odd lady seemed to always be one step ahead of me.
We went down two flights of stairs and took a right. There seemed to be dozens of portraits of many silver haired and crimson eyed men and women, the women looking especially familiar. Lots of paintings too, mostly of flowers including roses, daisies, tulips, lavenders, and so many more.
Soon though, we came to a massive oaken door. It had the image of a great tree with no leaves. It was a simple design and fit perfectly on the door. It felt both comforting and protecting, oddly enough.
After staring at it for a short while, I noticed the butler bat had fluttered up to the side of it.
The lady took a step forward and said, "If you would be so kind, Birch."
As if a spell was cast upon him, another dark cloud formed around the bat butler, but this time the cloud lingered, in fact it grew large enough to touch the floor.
Slowly, but surely, that dark cloud dissipated much like the clouds dissipated on the night I saw the shooting star. Once the cloud was gone, all that remained was a rather tall man in an appropriately sized tuxedo and top hat. His gray hair was well combed under the hat, and he had a well-kept mustache, just as equally gray. He seemed to be doing quite well for his age, but where did the bat go?
"Dinner is served, my lady," he spoke with a bow as he then turned and split the great tree down the middle, opening the door.
Oh. The realization of his identity almost hit me as hard as the blast of aroma coming from within.
This was the dinner hall, without a doubt.
Birch, I believed that was his name, held a resolute bow as the lady and I walked in and the door shut behind us. No tree on this side of the door, oh well.
I was slightly surprised to see a rather quaint looking dining room. Don't get me wrong, it was extravagant, but not to the degree I was expecting considering the rest of the house. To put it simply, it felt more like a regular dining room. I appreciated that, it felt more real, in a way. More comfortable.
That difference aside, it was still far more regal than any dining room I had been in, though I realized that literally meant nothing the moment I thought it. The table was a rich mahogany, fitted with complimenting chairs along the sides and on each end. It also had an elegant white tablecloth, laced and patterned with all shapes of flowers. Above it was a fancy chandelier that had a soft red flame that seemed to pour out of the candles. It bathed the whole room in a warm and gentle glow.
Perhaps a subversion to my expectations, there were only two plates of food, one on each end of the table. The lady motioned for me to take a seat in the closest one as she walked to the other end, taking her own seat.
I just sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do in this situation.
She broke the silence for me.
"We'll talk after your belly is full, I know you're starving, so please, dig in," she said with a smile.
I nodded and looked down at my plate.
The look turned into a stare as I realized it was a Thanksgiving dinner. There was turkey, glazed with a light spread of gravy and a dash of salt, a decently sized scoop of macaroni and cheese nestled between a fresh roll of bread with melted butter and a neat little pile of mashed potatoes, with a bit of gravy perfectly drizzling down the side of it.
Until this point, nothing had seemed real. I've been so shocked and restless that it seemed easy to pretend it was all a dream, that I would wake up and find myself cold and alone on that park bench.
Maybe it really was all a dream, but I didn't care if it was or wasn't. Hesitantly, I picked up the spoon and lifted a small serving of mac and cheese between my lips and closed.
It was delicious and it was real.
Before I knew it, I was rushing mouthful after mouthful down the hatch until I ran out, so I tried the mashed potatoes next.
The sudden change in texture and flavor hit me hard, in a good way. It was just incredibly satisfying and, before I knew it, I had shoveled all of the mashed potatoes away as well.
I felt a drop of gravy slide down my chin, and I'm sure I was a complete mess to look at. From an outsider's perspective, they would see an adorable girl wearing raggy clothing and scarfing down food like it was the first time she's ever eaten. I mean, to an extent, that's exactly what was happening.
As I started to chew through the soft and fluffy bun, I saw the lady gracefully eating her own plate as she smiled and glanced at me every now and then.
I felt a bit embarrassed in comparison and tried to eat the turkey a bit slower. It was dry, especially with the trace amounts of salt, but the light amount of gravy on it created a heavenly pair.
At some point, I felt warm tears flowing down my cheeks. It felt impossible that I was happy in this moment, but... it really was all real.
By the time I was done, I had a big fat grin. I let out a long-drawn-out sigh of satisfaction and a high pitched burp slipped out.
"S-sorry," I said, my eyes darting to the side.
She said nothing and simply smiled, continuing her meal for a few minutes until she finished, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
I noticed that, despite all the food I just ate, I was still craving more. Or, rather, I still felt restless. I still felt... thirsty.
We awkwardly sat in silence for a moment until she spoke.
"I don't believe you've finished your meal," she said somewhat smugly.
She was right. Just to the side of my plate was a silver chalice. I think I just convinced myself to ignore how it seemed to tug at my very core.
I'll admit that I'm a rather ignorant person, but I was keenly aware of the only thing that chalice could contain. I've had few interactions and most of what I know is from overhearing conversations as people walked by in the park. I didn't want to think my overwhelming suspicions were true, but the chalice was undeniable evidence. I mean, my entire body was, but I didn't want to think about that right now.
I picked the chalice up and glanced at the crimson liquid inside as it swirled so temptingly. It seemed thick and fresh. It was, without a doubt, blood and I, without a doubt, was expected to drink it right here and right now.
That restlessness within me stirred up as I nearly choked on the sweet scent. My teeth, no, fangs, began to ache with excitement. I pulled the chalice closer to my lips as my heart began to speed up. I was nervous but also genuinely excited to drink something besides stagnant water.
The cool surface of the chalice rim touched my lips and I slowly poured it into my mouth. The moment it met my tongue, any and all resistance faded. It was sweet like honey, but nowhere near as heavy. It was sating me unlike anything had ever done so before and I just kept tipping the chalice more and more, I never wanted it to run out.
Until it did.
I was absolutely ecstatic from both the meal and the blood. I patted my face dry with a napkin, like she did, and asked my first question.
"Am I a vampire?"
She let out a short laugh and responded.
"Yes."
