Vampire Romance_Book 1

by P. L. Kurup

  Samuel ripped through the thicket, acquiring scratches on his face and arms that healed as soon as they were formed. Soon he clutched at the criminal’s neck, squeezing the life out of him. The man’s face turned blue as he struggled for air. Samuel ignored his suffering and looked down at his victim, a girl of five, cowering in the bushes. The first thing he noticed about her was that she wore a long red ribbon in her hair.

  “Were you going to hurt this girl?” Samuel demanded in Chinese.

  “She stole food from my house. All the children from the orphanage do. They should be whipped until they beg for mercy.”

  Samuel’s fingers wrapped tighter around the assailant’s neck, and he was on the verge of snapping it.

  “Don’t kill me, sir. I have a wife and four children to support. Without me, they will starve,” the man implored.

  Samuel released him and watched him gulp air.

  “If you go near a child again, I will come back for you,” Samuel warned.

  The man scurried away like an injured deer and disappeared from sight.

  Samuel offered the child his hand and said, “I will take you home now, Esther.”

  Esther took hold of his hand, not caring how he knew her name, and led him to the dusty road. She glanced over her shoulder numerous times.

  “No need to worry. He will never chase you again,” Samuel promised her.

  The child responded with a grin, and the journey continued. They marched for four miles, then squeezed through a gap in the trees to arrive at a wooden house surrounded by a conclave of small cabins. At the front was a signpost which read, “‘St Mary’s Orphanage for Abandoned Children.’”

  “This is my home,” Esther announced proudly.

  The doors of the largest building opened, and a flood of thirty children ran into the forecourt. They ranged in age from five to fourteen and were dressed in bright yellow uniforms and white shoes. They stared at him, and he gave them a bow. The last to emerge were a middle-aged priest in robes and a woman in her mid-twenties. The man was an inch shorter than Samuel, and had a greying beard. He clasped a bible in his left hand and wore a metal cross around his neck. The sight of the cross, making Samuel flinch and step back. The lady was about five foot six inches tall and had her auburn hair tied up in a bun. The cross she wore was smaller than the priest’s, and she was clad in a long black dress that enhanced her elfin frame. The woman knelt in front of Esther and hugged her.

  “Where have you been? We’ve been so worried about you,” she said.

  “He saved me,” Esther replied. “He chased away the bad farmer.”

  The woman stood and told Samuel, “Then we are indebted to you, sir. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you wish.”

  “What is your name?” the priest asked him.

  “Samuel.”

  “My name is Father Manuel and this is Clara,” the priest said.

  “You look exhausted. I will give you something to eat and a place to rest,” Clara expressed.

  “I’m not hungry. I just need somewhere to sleep,” Samuel replied.

  “As you wish.”

  He noted that Clara, although not as pretty as Alexandra, had an attractiveness and inner strength to her that couldn’t be ignored. He shielded his face with his hand as her cross made him dizzy again.

  “Are you all right?” Clara enquired with concern.

  “I must be more tired than I thought,” he responded.

  “Follow me, I will make sure you’re well taken care of,” she replied.

  Father Manuel and Clara walked ahead while Samuel and Esther followed behind. The little girl kept close to her rescuer, offering him comforting smiles every now and again. The Father broke away from the group and stopped outside a rudimentary cabin. The structure was a third of the size of Samuel’s bedroom at the chateau, with a single window, and was built from sturdy wooden planks, like all the cabins.

  “Sleep well, Samuel. I will see you tomorrow,” Father Manuel said.

  Clara, Samuel, and Esther strolled to the penultimate cabin, where Esther waved goodbye to Samuel and went into the building. Samuel and Clara headed to the last cabin, which was clearly meant for him.

  “How did you come to be so far from France?” she asked. He looked at her with a frown.

  “My mother took me to Paris as a child, so I recognised your accent.”

  “I was travelling on a ship and when it docked here, I got off.”

  “If you landed here without any idea of what to expect, you’re very brave.”

  “I can tell you’re English so I could ask why you’re also so far from home.”

  “London born and bred,” she said with a laugh. “Have you been there?”

  “No, I never had the privilege. So why are you so far from home?” he repeated.

  “I decided a long time ago that I wanted to devote my life to the service of others,” Clara explained. “The children here need my help and assisting them makes me happy.”

  “Then you are a noble soul.”

  “I want to say, it was terrible what happened over there. Killing all those poor people. I hope you and your family didn’t suffer.”

  “My family and I were fortunate,” he lied.

  “I can tell I upset you. I didn’t mean to pry. Anyway, Father Manuel and I want you to know that this is a refuge for everyone.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Clara.”

  She walked in haste, and though he had no difficulty keeping up with her, he stumbled twice to look incompetent. Arriving at the last indistinguishable cabin, she said, “This is where you will stay. It’s hardly a palace, but it’s warm and dry. We serve breakfast early. It would be wonderful if you joined us. Rest well, Samuel, you look like you need it.”

  She sauntered off, and he opened the cabin door to see a modest, drab room that lacked elegance. Stepping inside, he noticed two bunk beds on either side of the room, a table with a wash basin and a bar of soap, and a mirror hanging on the wall. The first thing he did was pull down the mirror and place it face down on the table. The months’ worth of dust collecting on the windowsill, and the hundreds of dead insects littering the bed and floor made it an unsanitary living space. He wiped away the bulk of the vermin from the sheets and laid diagonally on the bed as it was too short to support his tall stature. The lumpy mattress protruded into his spine, denying him a decent night’s sleep, so he rolled to the floor, finding the smoother surface more comfortable.

  The wind rushed through the forecourt with such force that the cabin was shaken from its foundations. The force rocked the beds and toppled the soap to the floor. He didn’t bat an eyelash at the commotion and stared at the ceiling. As he lay there, he imagined Alexandra lying next to him with her arm draped over his waist and her head resting on his chest. He smelt the aroma of fresh roses in her hair and felt her soft skin rub against his.

  “I have missed you so much. Where have you been?” he whispered.

  “I have been right here,” she replied. “I never left you.”

  “Promise me you won’t go away. No matter how long I live,” he said.

  “I will be with you for centuries to come.”

  His eyes snapped open and he looked round to discover that he was alone in the cabin. Alexandra was no more with him than any of the friends or family he lost in the revolution. It was the cruelest of illusions, and he pounded the floor with his fist, creating a hole in the wood. At one point, he thought of leaving, but he changed his mind as all that was around him was wilderness and uncertainty.

  Since daylight wouldn’t come for another few hours, he closed his eyes. Before he succumbed to sleep, he imagined Clara’s gentle yet serious face.

  Chapter 15

  Samuel woke to find the cabin smothered in the dim light of afternoon. He glanced to a pile of folded clothes on the table that were no doubt left by Clara. It meant she was in his cabin at some point and decided not to wake him. He got up and washed his face and hands in the basin full of
water, and changed into his new clothes, which fit well apart from the shirt sleeves being short. Pulling open the door, he was bombarded by a brilliant sun that made him squint. His eyes went to the treetops surrounding the orphanage. He noted the place was very much a part of the forest.

  Clara’s sweet voice steered him to the centre where he saw her teaching English to twenty children under the shade of a tree. Samuel walked over to her, and she continued to teach her class, ignoring him. Reading her mind, he grasped that her indifference was superficial and that she had an inherent goodness. He didn’t take his eyes off her once and hoped that she would look his way. The class continued for half an hour, yet the only acknowledgement came from one or two of the smaller kids who warmed his heart with curious stares. Clara didn’t want him there, so he walked back to his cabin to retrieve his clothes, and decided to leave the orphanage. He had taken six long strides---

  “Samuel, come and join us,” she called out.

  He marched straight back to the class and stood next to her.

  “Shall we practice our greeting, children?” Clara suggested. “One, two, three…”

  “Good afternoon, Samuel. It is nice to meet you,” the children said together.

  “Good afternoon, children. It’s nice to meet you too,” Samuel replied.

  Clapping twice, Clara instructed, “You may play for one hour, then it’s suppertime.”

  After the children ran off in a flurry of excitement, Clara gave Samuel her undivided attention.

  “You look well. I think the sleep did you a world of good,” she commented.

  “The room was very comfortable. Thank you for the clothes. It was nice of you,” he said.

  “I thought it was about time someone took care of you. Come on, I’ll show you what we do here. That’s assuming you’re interested.”

  “Of course. Please lead the way.”

  They roamed the premises, hearing noisy children playing inside the cabins, which made a change from the cries of brokenhearted people.

  “How long have you been working here?” he asked her.

  “Four years.”

  “You must love children very much to devote your whole life to them,” he posed.

  “When you do the Lord’s work you find inner strength, monsieur.”

  Samuel flinched at her cross as it drained him of life. The reason for such an aversion was unclear. Though he believed it was because he was an affront to God.

  “Samuel, I’m talking to you,” Clara said.

  “I’m sorry?” he questioned.

  “I asked if you were well enough to carry on because you look tired all of a sudden.”

  “I feel perfectly fine.”

  “You don’t have to pretend to be fit and healthy on my account. I only care for the truth,” she replied.

  “I think if you tucked your cross inside your dress, it would make me feel a lot better.” She did as he asked and Samuel’s vigor returned. “Thank you. That’s a great help.”

  They continued to one of the homogenous cabins, and she pried open its stubborn door and went inside. He followed her in and salivated to the smell of fresh blood. Gaping down a row of beds, he spotted an eight-year-old boy occupying the last cot. The boy’s bandaged arm was soaked in blood and Samuel was overcome with desire. He averted his eyes to the medicine shelf at the back to curb his feelings, tried to think of anything other than feeding. Clara pulled him to the child, and his dragging shoes left marks on the floor.

  “I can’t stay. I have to leave,” Samuel said, moving back.

  “He is a very sweet boy. There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Clara insisted, heaving her six foot two friend.

  He found himself centimetres from the boy. Slivers of the child’s blood flooded Samuel’s nostrils, making his eyes roll back in his head.

  “This little one was attacked by an animal, but we managed to save his life,” she said.

  Samuel watched the youngster squirm, and his eyes fill with terror.

  “Don’t be scared, Benjamin. He is a friend,” Clara uttered in Chinese.

  “I seem to be upsetting the lad. I should go,” Samuel said.

  “No, wait. A little company will do him good,” she replied, grabbing his arm.

  His eyes turning black, Samuel roared, “Let me be!”

  She let go of his arm, and he raced out of the room, then the courtyard, and went deep into the forest. The boy’s smell was all over him, so he removed his shirt to alleviate the scent. His black eyes scanned the forest for food. Detecting a deer several miles away, he ran to it with gusto.

  His feet moved so quickly that he levitated above the surface as his image blurred against the backdrop. When he reached the unfortunate animal, he pounced on it and sank his fangs into its flesh. The resulting outpour destroyed his craving, and Samuel collapsed on the ground and declared, “Heaven help me, for I am spent.”

  He went back to the spot where he’d discarded his shirt and picked it up. The boy’s smell was no longer apparent, so he put on the shirt and returned to the orphanage. Clara was just departing the hospital and gave him a disapproving look.

  “Glad to see you haven’t left us,” she quipped. “Why did you run away?”

  “The sight of blood repulses me. Will Benjamin get better?”

  “The orphanage lacks medicines, but we do our best. Don’t trouble yourself with how he behaved with you. He’s a child who’s always been skittish around strangers.”

  “No apology needed. I’m used to it.”

  He and Clara crossed the courtyard, while she nattered about her ambitions for the place. He noticed that she lost the curtness she showed him the previous day and treated him with respect. She spoke of inconsequential things such as the weather, and to be frank, he found her tedious.

  “So is there anyone back in France? A wife? A girl you like?” she asked unexpectedly.

  “I used to have someone, but she died,” he muttered.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you. Forgive me if I did.”

  “You have to stop apologising every few seconds. It’s starting to annoy me.”

  “Well, you can chalk it up to a proper upbringing. If in doubt, always say sorry, my mother used to say. All joking aside, it’s nice to have you here.”

  Samuel nodded, not knowing how else to react.

  They approached the largest building, where the smell of newly-cooked food permeated the air.

  “Our dishes won’t grace the tables of Marie Antoinette, but it stops your hunger. So please join us,” Clara said.

  “I’m not hungry. I think I’ll go back to my cabin…”

  “Nonsense. You live in a habitat that’s rife with disease. Eating well may save your life. Besides, I haven’t seen you eat anything since you came here, and it’s starting to bother me.”

  She grabbed his sleeve, opened the cabin door, and walked in, dragging him behind her.

  Inside were several wooden tables arranged like pews in a church with children seated around each of them. Strolling through the room, he noticed there were far more older children than younger ones. This surprised him since he assumed the orphanage would be overrun with children of all ages. Still, they looked happy, and their voracious spirits warmed his heart. Then, for no apparent reason the children fell silent. Samuel perused the hall and saw several kids watching him in horror. It was the same look he endured at the hospital, and he peeked at the door, wanting to escape.

  “Better get a move on or the food will get cold,” Clara urged him.

  They carried on and reached a larger table with the same bowls of broth and cups of water the children had in front of them. Father Manuel was already seated there and looked famished.

  “It’s so good of you to join us,” said the priest.

  Samuel sat on one side of him and Clara on the other.

  “Bless this food and all who consume it,” she said.

  After grace, she, Father Manuel, and the children spooned the broth into their mouth
s. Samuel alone abstained from drinking the soup, sitting awkwardly with his hands on his lap.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” Father Manuel asked.

  “I ate some fruits this morning and I’m still full,” Samuel replied.

  “You need more than fruits to survive here. Without a proper meal, you may fall ill,” Father Manuel said.

  “That’s exactly what I told him,” interjected Clara. “It would make me so happy if you ate a few spoonfuls.”

  Father Manuel and Clara watched him so severely he figured that disobeying them would be a sin. So he brought a spoonful of broth to his lips and opened his mouth. Clara, Father Manuel, and the entire room were engrossed by the act. Samuel teased them by moving the utensil closer to his mouth. The bits of parsnip and carrot floating in the brew reminded him of the murky slush that swamped the chateau drains after a storm. The food’s pungent aroma made him want to retch. He prepared to taste the broth, yet every fibre of his body told him that the food was unpalatable, that sampling it would be deadly.

  He dropped the spoon into the bowl and strode out of the cabin as the crowd looked on.

  xxx

  Samuel dashed through the courtyard, humiliated at how stupid he must have seemed. He was a vampire after all, and had no place amongst innocent children. It was Clara’s fault for taking him to the dining hall in the first place. He resented her for doing so. He raced to the end of the courtyard and was stopped by a man’s holler.

  “Leave me alone, priest,” Samuel muttered.

  Spinning round, he saw Father Manuel racing up to him in a hurry.

  “Forgive us for being so rude,” said the breathless priest.

  Samuel read his thoughts and realised the priest was just as humiliated by what happened as he was.

  “You are free to leave, of course, but don’t go with bitterness for what we asked you to do,” Father Manuel said. “Truth is, having a respectable man such as yourself staying here makes us feel safe.”