Eternal Nights

In a forgotten village in the north there is a small house that was attached to the Montrose Bakery where two individuals lived. Upstairs in front of a mirror sat a girl brushing her long, golden curls that shone like the sun as she hummed to herself preparing for the evening. She studied her reflection, her ears and cheeks were already a bright pink with the cold, making her blue eyes look even more enchanting. As she sat there a knock came to her door, “is that you Papa?” The girl asked knowing the dangers of inviting someone in without knowing who or what they could be first. “Yes, my darling Xanna, may I come in, please?” Asked the exhausted baker. Despite his cheerful tone, there always seemed to be hints of worry in Donovitch Montrose’s voice. As usual, he used his daughter’s nickname given to her by her mother before she had passed, rather than calling her by her name, Roxanna. As Roxanna stood up her curls spilled down her back, ending their descent just above her hips. She was dressed plainly; wearing a white tunic, a brown corset, a pink woolen skirt and a yellow apron. However, she looked anything but plain. She was absolutely stunning and arguably speaking she was the most beautiful girl in the village. She walked to her door and opened it to see her father standing on the other side. Donovitch looked over at his little girl standing before him with his tired eyes, “how on earth did I manage to have such a beautiful little girl? Oh I know, it must have been all your mothers doing!” He said as he pinched her pink cheeks, before entering her bed chamber, Roxanna let out a laugh in response to the minor pain from the pinch. Donovitch sat down in the chair where Roxanna was just sitting, before letting out a sigh, “you know you don’t have to do this, right? I know we have struggled since your mother passed, but you know how dangerous it is out there.” Time had not been kind to this man, he was beginning to bald and despite being in his 40s he could easily pass for being in his late 50s or early 60s. He shared the same blue eyes as his daughter but he had dark brown hair that began to gray years ago rather than the blonde like his daughter. Roxanna approached her father, placing her hands on his before saying, “I know daddy, I know,” this was a conversation that was repeated almost every night just before Roxanna left the house to work her night job, “I know what happened to mother,” Roxanna paused for a moment, “I watched it happen, remember? I'm careful, I always am, so please don’t worry. Ok, papa?” “Ok, my little Xanna. I just worry. I don’t want to lose you too,” the baker looked at his daughter solemnly for a moment,”Though this wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. Your birthday is the day after tomorrow. What kind of cake would you like me to make you?” Donovitch asked as he brushed the back of Roxanna’s hand with his thumb. “Lavender tea cake!” The girl said excitedly. Though the cake itself was good it actually wasn’t a cake at all, it was a bread that was a reminder of her mother before the darkness fell over Wolfborough and before she had perished. “Ok my sweet, now you must hurry along before I never let you leave the house again. It’s going to be late soon,” Donovitch said, hopping up from his seat, pulling Roxanna into a lingering hug. “Ok, ok papa, I know you’d rather me not go but you’re going to make me late!” Roxanna laughed as she pulled away from her father and began to head down the stairs. Her father followed after her and helped her put on her cloak. “Goodnight papa, I love you.” “Good bye, my sweet girl, I love you most,” Donovitch smiled though he looked as if he’d never see her again. It was a common expression he had ever since the night Roxanna and her mother left one evening 11 years ago and only Roxanna had returned home. Roxanna walked out into the swirling snow. She knew the path well, as it was only a 10 minute walk to the tavern, but she still hurried along knowing the streets were always dangerous. Despite it being the most brutal and cold part of winter, the storm was relatively calm at the moment. It was dark, aside from the few street lamps lining the roads, one could hardly tell that it was early evening still. The residents of Wolfborough were used to the darkness, as the sun didn’t rise for the winter, however, the biting frost and the shadow of winter were not what the people most feared. Standing below a street lamp stood an individual who was not dressed for the weather. The individual was a male with dark eyes wearing a coat that was more suited for the autumn time than the middle of winter just before a snow storm. “What’s a pretty lady like yourself doing alone in the streets?” The figure asked, revealing his sharp fangs. “I’m just going to the Hot Snow tavern, I have a shift there tonight,” Roxanna said, trying to rush quickly past the vampire spawn before her. Suddenly she felt an arm snaking around her shoulder, a whisper hissed in her ear,“careful little girl, the night is very dangerous, and you smell absolutely delicious,” Roxanna struggled against the vampires hold, but froze upon mentioning her smell, “that’s a good little girl, I’ll tell you what, I’ll escort you to the tavern, and you can pay me for my protection with either your blood or your….” Roxanna quickly reached for her coin purse and pulled out a silver coin, presenting it to the vampire, “….coin. Fine, you said you were heading to the Hot Snow tavern right?” “Yes, I am,” Roxanna said, attempting to pull away from the vampire's grasp, “now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be late.” “Oh no, I told you I would escort you. I may not feed on you, but I can certainly savor your smell,” the vampire said, pulling his face close to her neck. “I’ve paid for my life, please let go of me. I appreciate the escort, but it does not require your arm around me,” she pleaded “Very well.” The vampire released his hold on the girl before leading the way to the Hot Snow tavern. It’s been this way almost as long as Roxanna could remember. The north was dangerous for many reasons; the cold, the animals that lived there not to mention the challenges of simply surviving from growing crops to keeping livestock or obtaining fresh water. Her people somehow found a way to not only survive but conquer the frozen tundra. However, life became so much harder nearly 12 years ago when he first came. Roxanna remembered how her mother pulled her from her bed as tears stained her cheeks attempting to reassure her daughter that everything was going to be ok. She remembered how her father pulled her into his arms as he carried the 5 year old girl out into the snow as she held her stuffed Owlbear plush. She remembered how her knees and feet froze from the cold as all she wore was a yellow nightgown. She shivered, unsure if it was from the cold or fear as she saw a corpse for the first time; the king of her people tied to a crucifix in the center of town. Standing in front of the village people stood what appeared to be a man with long, dirty blonde hair with a matching goatee, his red eyes scanned the crowd before him, “welcome. I appreciate you all coming on such short notice. I have gathered you here tonight to show you how pathetic you king is and how he is unable to protect you. He attempted to send his entire army to kill me, and now their blood stains the castle looming over this village, but do not fret. For I am now your new king, and I will protect you scum, that is for a price. From now on, every month you will buy your miserable lives. For each adult you will pay 10 silver and 5 for each child. For those who are unable to pay, your blood will suffice. There will be a curfew, those who find themselves in the street at night travel at their own risk. I will warn you now, there will be no escape from here and everyone and everything within Wolfborough belongs solely to me,” those words echoed in Roxanna’s mind as if the vampire king gave that speech just moments ago. Since then, many people have been turned or simply killed because they couldn’t pay or found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Luckily most encounters with the vampires were survivable, as long as you carried the coin to pay for protection, and Roxanna was fortunate that she was able to get a job at the tavern despite her age. “Alright girlie, we’re here. You better hope that you have the coin on you next time I see you, until then I’ll just have to fantasize about your delicious blood,” the vampire said, snapping Roxanna from her memories. “Thank you,” Roxanna said as she quickly ran inside the tavern knowing that the vampire spawn would be unable to follow without the invitation into the building. As she crossed the threshold of the door she was hit by the smells of the cooking stew and meats and the sounds of slamming ale glasses and merrymaking. The Hot Snow tavern was the largest building within Wolfborough and one of the only places that most people felt safe within. As Roxanna walked to the counter she ducked under a chair flying through the air and nearly tripped over a pile of ale mugs on the floor. “It’s unlike you to be late, Roxanna, did something happen on the way over?” The mountain of a barkeep asked as he polished a glass. The man was completely bald, except for his bushy eyebrows and mustache, and his head was nearly as shiny as the glass in his hand. Though they were not related, Roxanna felt the same kind of protectiveness from the man before her as she did her own father. “I’m sorry Ivan, I ran into a little trouble on the way over, but luckily I had a silver so I’m not hurt. I’m very sorry I’m late,” Roxanna said as she removed her cloak and placed it on a hook on the wall. Ivan stopped polishing the glass for a moment as he studied Roxanna, visually confirming that she was ok before asking, “I’m just glad you’re alright, can I get you anything or are you ready for tonight’s performance?” “I’m fine thank you, but if you could get a pot of tea ready for me during the performance that would be excellent,” Roxanna said smiling at Ivan. “Very well. I look forward to your performance tonight, Little Nightingale,” Ivan said using Roxanna’s stage name. Roxanna was the bard for the Hot Snow tavern and had been since she was 15 years old. When she first started working Ivan was skeptical as she was not only young and would have to travel to the tavern avoiding the vampires and animals prowling but she was excessively pretty and he worried about some of the patrons under the influence of alcohol. After nearly 3 years Ivan saw the girl as family, going so far as insisting that Roxanna call him uncle Ivan, though she rarely did so. If Roxanna ever had an issue with any patrons Ivan was quick to act, uncaring of what would happen upon throwing someone out into the streets. After the short conversation with Ivan, Roxanna made her way to the stage set up for her, greeting the other musicians. As usual the tavern was packed on the nights the 17 year old preformed, this fact was still strange to her; the patrons had to leave the safety of their homes at night risking their lives for ale and her song. Roxanna was fortunate to have her singing abilities and the Montrose Bakery was decently successful so they were better off than most but the hardest challenge of buying one’s life each month was that Wolfborough was mostly a trading community. When Roxanna’s ancestors arrived from the other world they did establish a trade route, but those who braved the journey often would lose either their goods or their lives to the frozen frontier. Over time trade from the rest of the world was cut off entirely and after a while Wolfborough stopped appearing on maps in the main continent. Being cut off eventually led to a bartering system for nearly everything in Wolfborough. However, once the vampires came, the people had to scramble to obtain a currency they hadn’t used in hundreds of years. At this point at least a quarter of the population had been turned or killed. For 12 years now all anyone knew anymore was fear, famine and poverty. Roxanna began her sound checks and tuned her guitar. Roxanna laughed to herself thinking that this would be her last performance before her birthday. She was excited and nervous at that thought. Shortly after, she began her song. It only took a moment before all eyes were on the girl. There was a dark allure to her music. Roxanna could always be seen smiling brightly bringing a sense of sunshine to even the coldest winter nights, but her voice was haunting, it was as if you dared to take a breath then the song would steal your very soul. Her voice seemed as if it was more irresistible than a siren, leaving everyone who heard her captivated as they leaned forward in hopes that she would steal them away. Though Roxanna was fully human, her charm seemed as though it was anything but. One particular individual seemed to have taken quite the notice to the girl, as mid song the tavern door flew open to reveal the vampire king himself, Raforian D’Lucien Von Esteré. He sauntered in, eyeing a few people who hadn’t paid for their lives this month, before walking up to the nearest table to the stage. This wasn’t the first time the vampire came to see Roxanna’s performance, in fact he seemed to watch frequently, but every time he did she feared for her life. You could easily barter with the vampire spawn, or you could attempt to run or fight back against them, in hopes of prolonging your life. Most of the time you could be successful in persuading the vampire spawn as they had direct orders from King Raforian to not kill those who pay for their lives, but Raforian himself was different. He answered to no one and often acted on a whim. Some nights when he caught individuals who hadn’t bought their lives he would s*******r everyone in between him and his targets, commenting on how disgusting they tasted, and then order Roxanna to finish her performance while glaring at her while wiping the blood from his face. She had once seen him act with mercy as well; the night Roxanna’s mother was killed, Raforian chose to spare the girl’s life, going so far as escorting her home while asking nothing in return. Roxanna continued her song, voice slightly shaky as she kept her eyes on the vampire in front of her. Normally when her voice shook like this, Raforian would seem irritated, going so far as asking her if she wished to die, but didn’t seem irritated at all this time. A smile spread across his face, his fangs easily visible as the candle light bounced off them, “nervous are we? I will assure you I have no intention of harming you,” he stated as he let out a chuckle. This caught Roxanna off guard, halting her song. For a moment Raforian appeared irritated, then he chuckled again before standing and moving to the stage where Roxanna stood. He observed her for a moment, watching her tremble as he towered over her, before reaching out to steal her hand for a kiss. “You are aware that as a human you do need to breathe, correct?” Raforian asked, keeping his face hovered just above her hand as he locked his eyes with hers. Roxanna took in a sharp breath, “forgive me, my king, I had no intention of offending you,” her voice was quiet and airy, nearly a whisper as she spoke. She dared not look away from the vampire, but she could feel the eyes of everyone within the tavern upon her. “You are forgiven, Nightingale,” the vampire stated coldly, “though, truthfully, I find myself growing rather irritated and impatient,” he paused for a moment. “You are a rare creature, my dear; you’ve piqued my interest, an accomplishment very few have been able to do. It’s an irritating fact, but a fact nonetheless, ” “What does that mean exactly, my king?” Roxanna asked, unsure if she truly wanted to know the answer. The vampire seemed to breathe in her scent, his eyes turning red from bloodlust as he relished her aroma just below the skin, “what that means, little Nightingale, is I desire you, and I’ve made a decision,” Raforian, without waiting for her response, snaked his free hand behind Roxanna’s back pulling her closer. Roxanna was caught off guard, she closed her eyes and lowered her head fearful of what was about to come. She heard a low growl, then felt her chin being lifted up to where the vampire’s face would be, releasing her hand in the process. “Look at me,” Raforian ordered. Roxanna’s eyes slowly opened, meeting his eyes once more. “I told you before, I have no intention of harming you, but if you disrespect me that can change. I own everyone within Wolfborough, that includes you. Do you understand me?” Roxanna nodded her head as a single tear fell from her eye. Raforian reached his thumb up, wiping away the tear. “Good. You’re a fast learner. Now then, would you care to dance, my dear?” The vampire said, staring her down. Roxanna nodded once more, knowing full well that he wasn’t actually asking. Raforian looked over to the small group of other musicians on the stage and watched them scramble for their instruments. Once the music began, Raforian began leading Roxanna in a waltz. Every fiber of Roxanna’s being wanted to flee. More than anything, she wished that she had stayed home with her father that evening. She wished at this moment that she never begged Ivan for the job. She desperately wished that she was not waltzing with this creature with an aura of death over him. Maybe she could get away from this monster. Maybe she could make it home to her father. Maybe, just maybe, they could escape the walls of Wolfborough and escape the hell that was created by the tyrant vampire king before her. Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted but the vampire sighing, “I was going to be generous by allowing you to say goodbye to your father, but it seems like you are having other ideas. I will tell you now, you will not be able to escape me. Now then,” Roxanna began feeling something taking over her mind, “it’s time to go home.” No, please no. I don’t want to go with you. she thought, but when the words, “I want nothing more than to go home with you my king,” passed her lips, she suddenly realized he had her trapped within her own mind. It was as though she had two consciousnesses within her; one was desperate to escape the other was desperate to allow the vampire to do whatever he wished to her. She reached for his arm, “please take me home,” her voice pleaded. “Wait, please,” Ivan moved in front of the vampire and the girl, falling prone before them, “she’s only 17. She’s just a kid. Please don’t take her.” “If you value your life, move,” the vampire glared down at the man bowing below him. Ivan stayed on the ground but crawled to the side, “kill me if you must, but please don’t hurt her. She’s a kid,” Ivan pleaded. “I have repeated myself twice now. I have no intention of harming her. Do not make me repeat myself again. Besides, my understanding is this little songbird will become an adult in less than 24 hours. I had stated that my original intention was to allow her time to say goodbye to her father, but then she had thoughts of attempting to flee Wolfborough. That is a crime only punishable by a slow and painful death; yet her punishment will merely be her inability to say goodbye to her father, Donovitch Montrose. So tell me, tavern keeper, what exactly do you take your King for?” Raforian hissed angrily, his words were lethal. “Forgive me my King. I didn't mean to offend you,” Ivan said as if he was kneeling at the gallows awaiting the moment of his death. Raforian said no more and lifted Roxanna into his arms taking her away into the brewing storm. The wind bit at her as it tossed her curls. Her body clung to the vampire despite her wanting to break free of his grasp. Even if she could break free she stood no chance of escape. The street lamps were out and the snowfall was disorienting. She did not have her cloak to protect her from the elements. There was no hope of running or fighting back. He could track her wherever she could go and he knew exactly where she would end up if she were to break free. She was also losing the mental fight to herself with the charm placed upon her; She would let the vampire do everything and more to her in this moment as her true self was forced to watch within her mind. Both mentalities craved to stay awake in this moment, but as he carried Roxanna through the snow she began to feel sleepy. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but they were heavy. Even under the vampire's charm the cold began to claim her.