by P. Mattern
Our new Master had to approve the marriage—or at least the union—only free men were allowed to form a legal union at that time. And even when permission was granted, the vows recited did not include the traditional phrase, ”till death do us part” but rather the more accurate phrase ”till distance do us part.” We were waiting on the Master to decide.
On our plantation we had Sundays off, and considered ourselves lucky for it. I continued to court Violet on Sundays, and had just returned her to her cabin one Sunday evening, when she asked me if I could get her some sassafrass root to make tea with. It was nearly sunset, and traditionally it was considered somewhat of a ‘sin’ to do any sort of work on Sunday, but I had tasted my first kiss with Violet that day and would have moved mountains for her.
I was deep into the woods on my knees, digging around the root of a ancient sassafras tree and trying desperately not to mess up my Sunday clothing when I heard a voice from behind me. At first I thought it was my Master’s voice…it was obviously the voice of a white gentleman, but he had a foreign sounding accent that I couldn’t quite place.
“Good evening,” he said, ”And how are you this fine evening?”
I felt my hair prickling on the back of my neck before I even turned around. I had no experience with gentry walking in the woods around the farm. But I stood up quickly and turned to face the speaker, my heart pounding in my chest, afraid that I had committed an infraction of some kind.
“What is your name sir?” the stranger asked. He was dark haired and tall, and dressed in a formal European style. That he was Caucasian and would address me in formal terms astounded me. I had never been called ‘sir’ by a white person in my entire life. It was blowing my mind.
“Orion,” I told him,”I serve the owner of this property.”
He seemed to take that into consideration for a moment. Then he spoke again.
“And how do you like being the slave of another human creature?” he asked. It was growing ever more dim in the forest, the last orange fingers of light fading quickly. In truth, I could hardly make out the man’s face below the brim of his top hat. I was awestruck that he would be on the property at all, traveling with neither horse nor carriage, and attired in such elegant clothing. I also suspected that his question was a trick question, so I answered cautiously.
“It is my lot,” I told him,”Not mine to have an opinion about.”
He seemed to find my answer amusing for some reason, and suddenly, though I never saw him move, he was standing more closely before me, so closely that I could feel his breath on my face as he spoke.
“You are strong,” he said slowly. I found that I couldn’t move or tear my eyes away from his. Though his countenance was partially in darkness his eyes glowed with a reddish light that was mesmerizing as he continued,” I am going to impart a gift to you this night. One that will assure your freedom from bondage, But it comes with a price…
…and that price is your blood. I will drink your blood and take you to the brink of death. But when you rise thereafter you will be strong and Immortal…and free,” he finished.
I had been wearing my best shirt, though it was a homespun one. As I stood frozen to the spot he ripped the buttons apart to tear the shirt completely open at my throat, and sunk his fangs into my neck. The pain was terrible and a burning went through me that felt like radiating forks of lightning, as if every cell in my body was on fire. As if from a distance I heard myself cry out and sob, but still I stood frozen to the spot until at last I felt myself falling and lost consciousness.
I awakened just before dawn. At a distance I could hear the routine morning noises of another day’s work beginning on the farm. I sat up with a start and noticed that I had blood on the front of my best dress shirt. My neck and chest were sticky with it.
As I stood I felt an unfamiliar weight in my vest pocket. I reached inside and was amazed to pull out two gold coins. I could feel the weight of even more of them. They had to have been placed there by the stranger, I reasoned. But I wasn’t to understand exactly what he had paid me for until some time later.
I managed to return to the slave quarters and change my clothing without being detected. I hid my bloodied shirt under my thin strawtick mattress and donned a ripped shirt and pants along with a bandanna that I always wore.
We didn’t have a proper mirror but my mother had managed to procure a broken vanity mirror from the Mistress’s daughter. It had only been fractured across the middle, and had an opening in the handle so that it could be nailed on the cabin wall. I happened to catch a glimpse of myself as I passed it, and realized that I had better wipe the dried blood off my neck.
As I did that, watching myself in the mirror, I noticed that my image seemed strangely translucent. But even so, I could still see that I had two decisively large puncture wounds on my neck. Seeing them was a shock that brought back vivid memories of the evening before. In disgust I tied my bandanna around my throat and left to tend to the day’s tasks.
During the day I began to notice strange changes in the way I felt and moved and functioned. I felt no fatigue as the day unfolded, required no food or water, and seemed to be able to lift furniture and farm equipment as if it were made of Styrofoam. My growing strength was noted and remarked upon by other slaves, and everyone seemed to agree that I had inherited my father Cornelius’ strength.
Two things happened that day that would change the course of my life, and I will recount them quickly my love…unless you are growing bored!”
Makenna settled back into Orry’s arms.
“No Orry…I want to hear all of it. Our lives are entwined now, along with our hearts. I need to know everything!”
Orry smiled in his slow southern way.
“Of course you would,” he said,”But I have to warn you. This part gets ugly.”
Sighing, he continued.
“ I had noticed the Master’s only daughter Priscilla staring at me a few times, though I had no idea why. We knew to keep our eyes downcast because even looking directly at a white woman could get an African American male beaten or worse. I was ordered by the foreman to go up to the big house and move some items for Miss Priscilla that day. I thought nothing of it as I had already rearranged the furniture in the second parlour for her mother that very morning.
I must have had some gut instinct, because as I approached the huge wrap around porch at the entrance to the house A feeling of dread settled over me. Nevertheless I went inside. In the foyer of the second floor there were three separate staircases leading up to the bedroom suites. I walked up the stairs on the left and knocked on Miss Priscilla’s door.
When she opened the door I saw her quickly look around to see if anyone was watching before she took me by the hand and pulled me in. She was wearing nothing but her camisole and petticoats under a dressing gown and I saw her expensive green moire satin gown with its hoop skirts was thrown to the hardwood floor. My heart was racing. I immediately started shaking my head.
“Please no Miss Priscilla!” I said, breaking into a sweat. She was pulling me to her, touching me and trying to place my hands on her most private parts. I had heard rumors to the effect that she enjoyed an occasional dalliance with some of the male servants, but thought that it was just talk.
“Hush up!” she told me,”Do it or I’ll say you took me by force! Hurry now!I’ll show you what I want and you’d better do as I say!”
Still I hesitated, and that seemed to enrage her. She drew her hand back and called me a slave term and as she struck me in the face managed to cut me below the eye with a gold charm bracelet that she always wore that had little golden stars attached to it. That’s how I got the scars under my eye, and I still have them to this day. At that point I decided that I had better fulfill her expectations.
So I did.
Afterwards she had me move furniture around quickly and then shoved me out of her bedroom door so that I nearly tripped on the landing and tumble down the stairs. Fortunately I caught my
balance and walked down to the second floor level instead.
I was about to proceed through the foyer to the ground floor but I ducked into the shadows under the stairs when I heard another door open above me. It was the door to the Master’s quarters, and I heard a man and a woman speaking in hushed tones. I recognized the master’s voice, but I didn’t recognize the woman that he’d been talking to until she floated down the stairway, adjusting her apron and rebuttoning the back of her housemaid’s uniform.
It was Violet. She never saw me as she hurried down to the main floor. Even though I was well acquainted with the customs of the time and the standing of African Americans, I was still shocked. I began to smolder with rage.
What happened next was the result of primal instinct rather than involving any thought on my part. I found myself on the landing in front of the Master’s bedroom door. When he opened the door and saw that it was me I saw a slight smirk appear on his face. He was still buttoning up his shirt, and he looked at me as though I were refuse.
“Well boy?” he asked, ”What is it you want?” I knew that he understood that I had seen Violet leaving his chambers. He also had confidence that there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
I shoved him back into his room with enough force to propel him through the air—he landed in the center of the room on his back. The thought crossed my mind that my strength had gone from being superior to that of other men to something else entirely—superhuman. And something else was rising up within me….
…..bloodlust…and rage.
Without even thinking about it I jerked my Master to his feet and sunk my fangs—because I had them—into his jugular vein. I killed him Makenna, without reflection, without a second thought. Afterwards I felt refreshed and revitalized, but I still did not comprehend what I had become.
There had been enough commotion to attract other members of the household, and soon the local constable and law enforcement showed up. I stood there as they chained me from head to toe, dragging me down the stairs and outside. I could hear the wailing of the Master’s family. They kicked me and called me a devil and told me that I was going to die.
There was no ‘due process’—I was a slave that had killed my master and my death sentence was assumed and automatic. A stout rope was thrown over a high tree branch on the largest and eldest elm tree and tied to the saddle of the constable’s horse. All this time they were shouting at me in rage and disgust. I didn’t care. Knowing that Violet had been sleeping with the Master had destroyed me. At that moment I welcomed death as the only way to end my pain.
They didn’t waste a moment, but yelled at the horse to move forward, which it did, hoisting me higher in higher into the air. I wasn’t getting enough air into my lungs to speak, and then, as I ascended into the lacey green canopy of the tree, I realized that there was no pain. Below me on the ground I could see the upturned faces of the spectators, both black and white. They seemed incredulous that my eyes were still open and I wasn’t thrashing on the rope.
Finally I had been hoisted right up to the tree branch they’d thrown the rope over. And a silence descended on those gathered there.
And I reached over and grabbed a branch with both hands and jumped up effortlessly, the rope still attached to my neck. I looked down and tore it off in front of the crowd.
And started laughing.
Many gathered in the crowd below ran off in fear, scrambling over and trampling the others just to get away. Their minds were completely blown by what they had witnessed. The sheriff was still in the back of his horse , who was rearing up and neighing loudly as if protesting that he, too wanted to leave. The sherrif was having none of it. He drew a pistol and shot at me directly, intending to take me down from my perch above him.
What happened next was odd and difficult to relate.
My laughter disappeared as I watched the sheriff raise his pistol. Because I didn’t comprehend what I had become, I wasn’t sure if I could survive a bullet wound in the same way that I had managed to survive the ‘neck stretching’ at the end of the rope. I was frozen to the spot, not even sure what to do next.
It seemed to me as if time itself had slowed to a crawl. ‘Slow motion’ was not an understandable concept in the context of those times, long before film was invented. I could see the bullets coming at me through space, and realized that I had time to deflect them. The ones that didn’t go into the tree branch I was able to swat away like flies, and they catapulted back into the air to fall back to the ground below. It was a fun game for a few minutes, but when I saw the sheriff throw his pistol to the ground in disgust, not understanding how his well aimed shots had failed to wound me, and reach for his shotgun I decided to end his target practice session.
I jumped down from the highly placed branch with the agility of a cougar, completely knocking him off his horse. His two rifles were still attached to the saddlebags behind him, along with blankets and other supplies, and I decided that there was never going to be a better time for a getaway, so I dug my heels in and made for the country road bordering the plantation.
I had barely gone a quarter mile when a woman of color ran out from the trees and scrub growth at the sides of the road directly into my path, causing my horse to rear up and almost buck me off .
It was Violet. And I as I looked at her all her turmoil, regret, pain and love for me shone in her eyes and on her beautiful face. Instantly my anger at seeing her with the Master receded, and all I wanted was to scoop her up and take her with me.
“Here,” I told her, offering her my hand, intending to pull her up onto the saddle to ride behind me .But though her eyes were full of yearning, she shook her head from side to side.
“I can’t Orry,” she told me,” I am with child by the Master, ”And I see that you are damned now. I can’t go with you!”
I was desperate.
“Please Violet!” I begged her,”I don’t care if you carry the Master’s child—I love you. I want you to live with me—free for once! Hurry and take my hand!”
I seemed to have enhanced hearing abilities and I could discern that there were men coming after me—the few that hadn’t run away as soon as they saw that no rope could hang me.
But she still refused, even though tears were running down her lovely cheeks.
“You are no longer a man, Orry…I don’t know WHAT you are now, but I just know that I can never be with you. I am sorry. I just can’t!”
I could hear hoofbeats behind me as she turned and disappeared back into the tree line. I dug in my heels and my horse took off and soon left our pursuers some distance behind. When I turned off the road and cantered across a field for a few miles I knew that I had ditched them for good. I stopped only to rest my sweaty steed and allow him to drink and feed on some hay.
Then I was off again, never to return. I spent some time in Baton Rouge Louisiana after that, posing as a freed slave. I had few contacts that I trusted but eventually I heard through the grapevine that Violet had passed away shortly after giving birth to the Master’s whelp. I was completely saddened to hear that she was no longer alive, but somehow relieved that she was no longer a slave. To this day I love her still.
I was good at cards, and became friends with a group of other freemen and also some rich whites that owned businesses in that city. There was a different attitude in the city, even in the Southern states. Industrialization was spreading and attitudes were changing.
…..and there’s where my story ends, my sweet. Or begins. Whatever happened next brought me to this day with you. I have seen it ALL…or a least half of it! So what do you think? DO you still want to marry me?”
Makenna noticed that even though he’d asked in a teasing tone, there was a fearful look in his eyes, as if he were afraid that she would rescind her agreementto marry him after hearing the story that he’d shared.
“Nothing you have revealed to me about your past could ever dissuade me from marrying you Orry,” she told him, taking one of his large hands
and holding it up to her mouth with both of her hands to kiss it. “Nothing ever could. Most of us have killed in our past, rather than BE killed…and ALL of us would under the right conditions. But I am grateful for now, here, with you.”
She kissed him then, to let him know that she belonged to him. He responded with a sense of urgency, drawing her to himself and then laying her back down against the sofa, one of his massive hands wound in her long hair and he caressed and explored her body with the other. She moaned and shoved his head between her legs, wrapping them around the back of his neck and arching her back at the flood of sensation his probing tongue solicited.
When he came it was as though he was pouring his soul into her, and she was glad to receive it.
.
It was a pearl and mist shrouded morning the following Tuesday. Mitzi and Cass had said their goodbyes the night before, using the entire night to explore their never waning passions for each other and their Immortal bodies. Mitzi didn’t feel the least bit tired as she sat up on her grey dappled mare and looked fondly over at Jaxon, who had shown up the evening before and spent most of the night catching up with Absolam and his other friends. Since he was on leave from his apprenticeship he wasn’t allowed to reveal any secrets or recount any stories concerning his training, but aside from that he was thrilled to be given a tour of the New City and marveled at how well organized and amazing a place it was.
Quickly Mitzi and Jaxon, carrying the bulk of the supplies and weaponry they had packed, flew to find the sky portal to Motuo County China. It was some distance away they found, and even though Celeste had given them excellent directions they almost missed it. It did not look as stable as the portal Ian had discovered in a field on the Noble Farm, and was not very large, but as they pressed through the thick and cloying energy field at the entrance they were rewarded with a short and bumpy ride to the forest outside of Castle Faquier. Mitzi had tripped and nearly fallen as she exited, though Jaxon had been able to grab her by one elbow and steady her.