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Children of the Night

Posted: Fri May 14, 2010 1:17 pm
by Jagtai

Andrew was the last to enter the bedroom of his grandfather. Peter Duncan lay in his bed. He was no longer the strong, wide man he had been when Andrew was a child; now he looked old, weak and shrivelled. His grandfather waved him closer. Andrew sat down beside him.

"Andrew..." his grandfather's voice was rasping, " you remember the stories I told you? About the living dead?" Andrew nodded.
"Yes." Andrew had never really believed the stories about vampires, but had shivered with equal fear and delight, when his grandfather had told him stories about vampires. His grandfather took his hand.
"If you ever get in trouble...with the living dead..." he took a deep breath, "...make a collect call to France, to the Chateau Duval, and tell whoever picks....up that Pierre le Grand is...collecting on the debt." He looked intently on Andrew. Andrew squeezed his hand and nodded. His grandfather nodded, and closed his eyes...

Present Day

Andrew had never believed the stories about vampires - until a week ago. He had surprised a vampire feeding on a homeless, and had since been hunted relentlessly. He was leaving Chicago, going south to disappear, but on his way out he had remembered what his grandfather had told him on his deathbed. He pulled over by a phone booth and called France collect.

A woman picked up and answered in a thick French accent:

"Hi, my name is Andrew Duncan. I need help."
"Help? Why call France for help?"
"I am calling on behalf of..." Andrew struggled to remember the name, but finally remembered, "...Pierre le Grand. He is collecting on the debt."

The other end of the line fell silent for a few seconds. Then the woman replied:

"Go to state of Louisiana, to small town of Duvalle. La Comtesse will meet you there." Then she hung up. Andrew stared at the phone for a few seconds before hurrying back to the car, calibrating the GPS, and setting a course for Louisiana...


"Madame?" Marie Gérard, the youngest daughter of the gamekeeper, stood on the top of the stairwell, peering into the darkness below. No-one answered. She slowly descended, holding the torch in one hand. She finally reached the bottom of the stairwell. Looking around, she saw no-one. Uneasy, she moved further in. She called again.

"Yes?" The voice came from behind her. She turned swiftly and found herself face to face with her quarry - the Countess Alexis Duval. Her brown eyes seemed to look into the soul of Marie, and Marie had to suppress a shudder.
"Madame, mama asked me to tell you that dinner is served."
"Very good. Shall we?"

Marie nodded and crossed to and quickly ascended the stairway. After reaching the top, she waited until Alexis had ascended as well, before closing the cellar door.

"Mother is in the kitchen, Madame."
"Very good. Thank you, Marie."

Alexis crossed the room and entered the kitchen, where the gamekeeper's wife, Suzanne Gérard, was cooking dinner. She looked up.

"Ah, Madame. There was a phone call a few hours ago. One André Duncan."
"I don't know any André Duncan."
"Non, Madame, but he said that Pierre le Grand is collecting his debt."

Alexis looked out the window.

"Pierre. Pierre Duncan. Of course. This André must be a descendant. What did you tell him?"
"To go to Duvalle and wait, Madame."
"Good. I'll leave immediately."
"Very good, Madame."

Three days later

Andrew swung off the road and onto the motel parking lot. He had thought he had shaken his pursuers, but he was now convinced that he hadn't. It was only a matter of time before they found him. He checked in and hid in a corner, hoping that this "Comtesse" would arrive before his quarry. After an hour, he got up. Nature called. He entered the bathroom, locked the door, and relieved himself. After washing his hands, he opened the door. The room was dark, but the cheap electrical light bulb in the bathroom cast an eerie glow upon the bed and the chair beyond - and someone was sitting in the chair...

Re: Children of the Night

Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 11:17 pm
by Jagtai
OOC: I'm re-imagining this.