Private Tales To make unclean

[Victoria O'Connor]

There was no wind in the underground tunnels, but Victoria felt as though she walked against a gale. She did not look at the roiling beings, the light hurt her eyes and the darkness filled her unbeating heart with dread. She pulled the waifish girl by the arm and made a slow progress, crossing the threshold with a tingle running down her spine.

The voices were not just in Harlowe's mind, they spread their prying fingers into Victoria's consciousness and that of the girl. The blonde hesitated, and Victoria pulled her more firmly.

YOU'RE NOT EVEN HERE, YOU HIDE BEHIND ONE OF YOUR TWISTED CREATIONS LIKE A COWARD.

Did it mean Harlowe? Was the shadow above the Him that made her? Victoria flashed to distant memories, overheard conversations long dead. A vampire made by ritual was... someone Victoria needed to have on her side.

AS YOU HIDE BEHIND YOURS.

Where was it. Where was it? The voices confirmed what Victoria had desperately hoped: that the angel was not truly here. That the light was filtered through a conduit, a keystone. That keystone.

She hoped she was beneath the beings' notice, as they seemed quite entwined with one another, and moved towards her prize. The cathedral keystone stood upon a pillar of granite. It was deepest obsidian, and etched into its glassy surface was a symbol. Victoria knew it was there, but her mind could not comprehend it. She could not remember its shape when she looked away. An undead mind with undead eyes: blind to salvation.

Good thing she didn't fucking care. She hauled the girl before the stone, held her firmly from behind and drew the black dagger from her coat.

 

[Harlowe]

Harlowe swayed but it felt like an invisible force held her up even as the other shook her like a doll. It was like being a toy caught between two children tugging her to and from.

THEY WORSHIP ME, REVERE ME AS THEY SHOULD, AS THEY ALWAYS SHOULD HAVE DONE.

There was a hollow laughter.

CAREFUL, CAREFUL, YOU BEGIN TO SOUND LIKE ONE OF USSSS.

A snarl.

WE ARE NOTHING ALIKE. i AM THE LIGHT, THE GOD OF--

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

The girl gave a barely audible whimper as the black blade crashed through her heart. When it was withdrawn her knees buckled, but Victoria kept her upright while the flamberge blade unstopped a torrent a dark blood upon the keystone.

At almost the moment the blood hit the sacred surface the light flared. Victoria shut her eyes but she could still feel the heat of it on her back and a hot wind whipped her hair forwards. There was a groan from the dark stone, and Victoria bent the poor child over it. With each fleeting beat of her young heart she gushed more and more of her lifeblood over it. With a deafening crack the keystone split down the center, and the light went out.

Only an act of supreme darkness could cut off the connection to the divine.

 

[Harlowe]

The crack was almost synonymous with the sudden ear-splintering scream that ripped not only through the room but the entire church. Anyone who had been oblivious to the two forces of nature prowling about the room would now be open to the pure weight of their power but also their voices. Or rather, the force of the being cloaked entirely in white light. Giant fissures broke out along its corporeal body breaking it into a thousand different pieces that shot outwards in one giant wave. Anyone unlucky enough to be pierced by a shard whether good or evil found themselves dead instantly.

The darkness vanished a split second before it met an untimely end and Harlowe's eyes suddenly rolled back into her head as she collapsed onto the cold flagstone floor.

The scream did eventually come to an end and for one, heavy second all was quiet.

Then the church begun to fall.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

The scream pained Victoria to her bones and knocked her feet from under her. She and the girl fell hard to the ground, perhaps the only thing that spared them an existence-ending impalement from a spear of light. She had thought that breaking the keystone, the connection, would just cut the deity off from this realm, not destroy it.

The light vanished. A moment later the darkness fled as well. With torchlight resuming Victoria heard Harlowe fall before she saw it. She had barely enough time to register it before catacombs shuddered around them.

She looked to the blonde girl, unconscious and dying atop her, then back to Harlowe. Her time with Fallon had certainly softened her, time was she would have drained the thing dry and left her in a gutter. She still hadn’t placed the connection she felt with the strange vampire, but she knew she couldn't let her die here, so she hoisted the sacrificial lamb over her shoulder and moved to Harlowe.

”Wake up,” she said sharply as dust fell from the ceiling. A second crack heralded a chunk of earth falling from above, and Victoria grabbed Harlowe’s collar and wrenched her out of the room alongside herself before the entire sanctum was crushed.

 

[Harlowe]

The lights missed most of the monsters who had the eerie sense to throw themselves to the ground before the light sped over their heads. All except dear Samson. The minotaur was too busy staring dumbfounded at the wonderful lightshow of good and evil to think about the itch in the back of his mind from his creator. As such one of the light shards went straight through the monsters chest. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Harlowe, despite Victoria's shaking, was unconscious. Being a vampire it was hard to tell she was even alive on account of not actually breathing, but she hadn't turned to dust and thus it had to be that she was still alive. Jack the banshee appeared by Victoria's side to help with the fallen damsels.

"GO GO GO," he hollered in that shrieking voice as monsters begun to slither, run and crawl back the way they had come.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Victoria winced at Jack's voice, it was like nails on her brain, but she carried on. Between the two of them the women (hopefully not corpses yet) were easy enough to manage. Victoria's own soliders had apparently been cowed appropriately, and they kept by the pair's side through the shaking tunnels.

It was very loud. Bass rumbling overtook every sound as pristine marble slammed to earth above them. Victoria no longer felt the quiet itch of holy ground beneath her feet, nor the flaring glow of holy symbols as they made their escape. It would seem that they had been successful.

The catacombs passed in a blur. Running far faster than mortal feet, Victoria and the remaining Regiment were singularly focused escape. Out of the sewers and into purple twilight, the red vampire and her cargo ran forth from a plume of dust as the last of the cathedral's towers crumbled to its foundations.

Her heart was beating, a rarity, and proof that she had been agitated enough to stir old instincts to life. She and Jack laid Harlowe on the riverbank they had first gathered by, and Victoria, famished, bit deep into the blonde girl's neck.

Sweet fuck virgins tasted good.

 

[Harlowe]

"Har, Har!" The banshee was practically sat on the vampires chest as she shook her. When that didn't work, she resorted to a quick, sharp slap around the face.

With a groan the vampire finally opened her ruby eyes.

"Did you just... slap... me?" she croaked at her friend and narrowed her eyes. Jack only laughed then shuffled back to give her the space to sit up. Even that made her vision spin again and for a moment she confused the stars up overhead with the swirls of that creature of light that had shattered over their heads. She glanced at the faces gathered and noted those missing with a pang before finally shoving herself to her feet where she swayed like a reed in the wind.

"I never want to do that again," she confided.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Victoria pulled herself away from the poor girl's neck with a satisfied sigh. Her lips were scarlet, and her chin bore the stains of her gluttony. After a few savoring moments, she cut her own palm with a fang and pressed it to the girl's mouth. "Here, love, drink this."

She looked back to where Harlowe lay, and was happy to see that she was awake. "Oh good, you're alive. Well... as close as we can be." She was feeling a slight high from the virginal blood and everything seemed... well everything seemed pretty damned good right now. The cathedral was gone, her friend was alive (yes, friend), and she was even sparing the sacrificial lamb's life out of the goodness of her dead heart.

"Easy, though," she noted Harlowe's unsteadiness. "You and the regiment have earned your fee and then some. Here, have some of the girl, she's not dry yet but she won't keep for long." The blonde would soon be unpalatable to them both, but before the conversion was complete Harlowe could glean some sustenance from what human blood remained.

 

[Harlowe]

Harlowe looked at the blonde with her watery, vacant eyes and her stomach lurched queasily.

"No, thank you," drinking human blood was still a hard thing to swallow - metaphorically of course. Physically, her body betrayed her. It had taken the past year to agree to feed off enemies and those deserving of death. But the innocents like this girl? Drugged out of her mind? It was just... wrong. What she wanted more than anything, oddly, was sleep. It was the first time in her immortal life that she had felt this way.

Jack put a careful hand on the small of her back.

"Let's 'ead back, yeh?"

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Victoria shrugged and turned her attention back to the girl who, impressively, had not died from being dragged about with a leaking heart. Well... not entirely at least.

Harlowe was an odd creature, something Victoria had noticed on their first meeting and that was confirmed by the dark... thing within her. She hadn't looked directly at the shadows, too terrified of what might happen should she make contact with such a thing, but it had been helpful against the god or angel or whatever that horrid light creature was. A ritual-born vampire, young and seemingly naive of her nature (who refused virgin's blood?) and with otherworldly connections... Victoria wasn't sure if she should continue her efforts to befriend the girl or kill her right now.

Friendship was much more palatable. Perhaps this was again the garou's influence, but Victoria had found herself wanting for vampiric company that was different from the old and tired regime. She stood and handed the unconscious blonde to her soldiers, who replaced her gingerly in the black casket to be returned to the castle.

"I will have men clear the debris at first light. They will be discrete about what they find, and your dead will be returned to you if they are... salvageable." Tons of carved marble tended to render bodies quite unsalvageable in her experience, but there was a chance. "In the meantime, we had best return to the castle. Prep the injured, they will be fully tended on our return."

As her orders were carried out, she placed a hand on Harlowe's shoulder. "How are you feeling, dear? You fell hard when... it emerged. Are you still hearing voices? Need to lie down?" Her concern was at least half for Harlowe's sake alone (a good ratio for her), of course she also did not want to lose the first interesting vampire to come along in quiet some time.

 

[Harlowe]

As Victoria approached Jack left to go and bark orders at their own people. Most of the regiment would have organised themselves but shouting things made Jack feel better, and a few of the others too. She could see the shock beginning to set in in more than a few of them as the realisation of what just happened and what it meant for their origins begun to sink in. Harlowe didn't shrug off the other vampire when she came to rest a hand on her shoulder. In fact she looked a little relieved.

"A little raw," she admitted but then she supposed that was to be expected when a being of such power literally used you as its way into the world. She shuddered and rubbed her arms though it had nothing to do with the temperature she couldn't feel. "But everything is... gone. Or at least, it feels gone," she hoped it was.

"The whole thing was... hazy."

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

She had so many more questions for Harlowe. What did she see, what were those things, was that Him? She wanted to know more about Harlowe's birth, about all of their births. How dangerous was the Regiment if they were all bound to that thing? More importantly, did He lead them, or were their others above even that demonic presence?

She bit her tongue. Everyone was exhausted and dawn was fast approaching. "I am glad you are unharmed," one of the more genuine things she had said all week.

She sent a single rider ahead to relay orders to the castle. A full dinner was to be prepared and all sleeping quarters were to be ready. There would be no obligation to the regiment to eat, as she expected many would prefer simply to fall into sleep. She herself would be full for the next few days after so exquisite a meal, and would not sleep for at least a week.

 

[Harlowe]

"Thank you," Harlowe offered a small, shy smile before taking a deep breathe and setting off to find her horse among those being handed out.

The ride back at a solemn one with most of those gathered trying to just stay upright on their horses. A few of the regiment exchanged stories between what had happened above ground and what had happened below. More than a few people cast looks in Harlowe's direction which she pretended not to see. Naz was going to kill her for drawing attention to herself. When they finally made it back however, she slid from her horse with a sigh and handed him off to a stablehand vampire who smiled nervously at her before rushing off.

"Lady Victoria... do you have a bath house?" she wanted to soak her bones.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Victoria felt better than she had any right to, but that was entirely due to the recent meal. Her bones should be aching, her head should be throbbing, and her mood should be somber. As it stood, she had to actively suppress a wicked smile. Tonight was a victory, and one long fought for.

She dismounted effortlessly, leaving the horse to the attendants that had already appeared to care for it. "I do," she answered. There was a modest bathhouse for the servants, mostly used by the humans Victoria had under her employment... or control. It would be large enough for the regiment to take advantage of, if they took turns, although she didn't expect her people to appreciate a host of monsters using their facilities.

"Though there is a much nicer bath in the guest suite. Follow me."

 

[Harlowe]

Harlowe was too tired to have picked up on the suggestion that there were other baths that her fellow soldiers would be forced to use and that she was getting special treatment. All she cared about was a bath. Stifling a yawn she followed after the older vampire like a little pup. Even tired as she was though, as they drew deeper into the castle and the places she hadn't been, her curiosity kept her eyes from taking it all in. In many ways all the castles she saw were the same and in many other ways they were each unique.

This one certainly had Victoria's flare written over it.

"How long... have you been here?" she asked in that soft, accented tone that spoke of the northern wildernesses, brutal khans, and lavish balls.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

"I was born here," she answered with a wistful smile. "But I left it long ago. I came back... oh I'd say a hundred years ago or so. The castle had all but collapsed upon itself at that time, it's taken decades to get it close to where it used to be."

Harlowe's accent was something that Victoria thought she might recall, but could not place a specific memory. Maybe one of the foreigners her father entertained had spoken to her as a girl, or maybe she'd heard it on one of her many trips abroad before settling back here. In any case it was pleasing to her ears.

The guest suite was generous, with a view overlooking the castle courtyard and a sturdy four-poster bed. Its bathing chamber was not as gaudy as Victoria's own but still held a copper basin large enough for four, pleasantly warm torchlight, and soft cloths for drying and wrapping. Predictably, there was only one small mirror.

"Do make yourself comfortable, and ring for a servant should you require anything."

 

[Harlowe]

Harlowe was already tugging off her sword belt when Victoria bade her to make herself comfortable. Questions still bubbled in her mind about what it must have been like to grow up in a place like this, what she had done in the years she'd been absent, and personal questions like just how old was Victoria? The only other vampire she had met was the other Made Vampire in the Regiment and they were very different. Victoria even more so. But it fascinated her to learn more about... what she was now. Even if she still wasn't entirely comfortable with it.

The armour came next in a series of pleasantly sounding tinkles of metal as she set them all down with care to not make a din.

"Were you a princess?" she asked, unable to quite contain that question as she unlaced her boots.

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

A gentle titter escaped Victoria's crimson lips at the question. "No, nothing so grand." She did her best to keep her eyes from scouring Harlowe's increasingly revealed figure. The new girl had yet to embrace the more lascivious aspects of her affliction, and Victoria was certainly not trying to scare her off.

"My father was Lord of this castle, after his father died and left it to him, and his father and so forth and so forth." She waved a hand to indicate that the endless chain of O'Connor men who had claimed this place had little of interest to discuss. "Nevertheless, our lands were too small for him to call himself a 'king.' After tonight I certainly feel like a Queen, but perhaps that title is a bit large yet, hm?" She smiled coyly at Harlowe.

As she spoke, two flaxen-haired girls filled the large basin with steaming water, dropped a dash of scented oils within, and left as quietly as they came.

"Were you a princess?" She asked moving to the edge of the bathing room and removing her leather jacket. "You carry yourself like one."

 

[Harlowe]

Peels of husky laughter bounced around the stone walls of the bathing chamber followed by the shifting noise of water as Harlowe lowered herself into the hot water.

"No, not at all," she wondered what her parents would have made of their daughter being likened to royalty. They probably would have given Victoria an earful for making Harlowe have thoughts far above her station. "I was just a soldier in the armies of Nymvogrod, far, far North," she leaned her head back and let the water begin to soothe her tired muscles and knots. She still felt like she'd bene pommelled by the fists of god themselves, though she supposed that was not too far from the truth.

"I was on a campaign not far from there when I died."

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

At least she seemed to be loosening up. A hot bath and a hot meal did wonders after life and death situations. The meal might wait, given Harlowe's reluctance towards blood, but already the warm waters were doing their job.

There were further sounds of buckles unclasping and leather shifting and she replied "Then the soldiers have more poise in the north than here... or maybe it's pride." She didn't even try to pronounce Harlowe's home, saving herself from certain embarrassment.

She moved silently and slipped a long, alabaster-white leg over the basin's edge, lowering herself into the large tub opposite Harlowe with a satisfied sigh. It did feel wonderful, even to skin that ran colder than stone. "Tell me about that," she turned carmine eyes on Harlowe, though her gaze never dipped below the water. "How you died."

 

[Harlowe]

"I suppose I should get used to that question," Harlowe mused out loud. She hadn't peeked when Victoria climbed into the bath and instead had kept her head tilted back and her eyes closed, content not to break the spell the warm bath was having on her. The question threatened that somewhat but now she had been dead over a year she was getting used to being asked it.

"It was a war," it was always a war. "My people against an old enemy who wanted our lands. We were outmatched anyway but we held the line... at least until they hired the Regiment," her lips pursed. The memories of that day were hazy. "I stayed behind with a select few others so the majority of the army could run, re-group, the rest... is kind of vague," pain was the only memory that stood out. Apparently she had been a pincushion when the demon had found her.

"What about you?"

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Victoria quirked a fiery eyebrow at the mention of the Regiment. Was that how they recruited? By resurrecting their fallen foes? She supposed it was a bargain few would refuse, even if it meant joining the enemy. Honor held little weight to the dying, and less still amongst the dead.

Her eyes twinkled at Harlowe's return question. It was almost refreshing to have her speak so candidly. Yes, it was a very personal question for a mercenary to ask the Lady of the castle, even when she had posed it first, but then again, they were literally sharing a bath. Familiarity could be implied at this point.

"I was also close to home when I died, very close in fact. It was just at the edge of the woods," she tilted her head to the black windows. "I was feeling very sad, when a beautiful stranger offered me comfort. I was a very stupid girl, I don't remember if I wanted to make my father angry or if I just wanted to forget my life, but I followed them. They killed me, turned me, and we were actually quite happy together for a while..." She trailed off. It had been ages since she'd spoken of her sire.

"I suppose you never had that personal touch, an elder to guide you?"

 

[Harlowe]

Harlowe's garnet eyes were wide with bewilderment as Victoria finished her story. She couldn't ever imagine becoming the lover of someone who had tricked then killed her. Was that romantic to some women? At least she had agreed to signing the contract even if it hadn't explicitly been laid out to her what saying yes to living meant. She had spent many sleepless hours thinking over whether she would have changed her response had she known.

It took a moment for Victoria's next question to register but when it did she cocked her head to the side.

"One. The regiment rarely spits out two monsters who are the same, but there is another vampire who is older. There are... quite a few differences between us though," she frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose they might be different strains."

 

[Victoria O'Connor]

Victoria nodded and idly inspected her nails, doing her best to pretend she wasn't hellbent on discovering exactly what Harlowe was. "We are not all created equal," she hung her elbows out over the edge of the basin and crossed her legs beneath the water so that a single marble knee peaked out above the surface. "Vampirism is a curious thing. Some call it a disease, others a curse, I think it's a little bit of both. The variants tend to stick amongst themselves but the world is shrinking, and we are finding ourselves more and more confronted by other breeds."

She locked eyes with Harlowe, red on red. "Would you prefer it if there were others like you, or do you enjoy being unique?"