In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete First Season: Episodes 1-5

by Rhiannon Frater

  Peeling off his burial clothes, he turned on the shower in the blue tiled bathroom. When the room was full of steam, he stepped under the hot stream of water. It felt good to feel the hot torrents of water washing away the filth that coated his body. He enthusiastically scrubbed shampoo into his dark hair until he felt fresh and clean.

  Afterward, Roman dried off with a fluffy towel and peered into the mirror. To his great surprise he had a reflection. It was slightly transparent, but nonetheless, a reflection. Roman ran his hands over his face and leaned toward the mirror. His dark eyes burned with an intensity that they had not held before. On impulse, he pulled up his top lip to see what he had felt the night before. Sure enough, there were twin fangs retracted above his regular teeth.

  “What do you know?” he murmured.

  On impulse, he tried to make his fangs slide downward. Nothing happened. Roman’s brow furrowed and he tried again. Still nothing. Then a thought occurred to him. Roman deliberately remembered his attack on the junkie. The two fangs slid down over his other teeth, white and gleaming. Abruptly, his refection vanished.

  “Interesting.”

  Roman lowered his head and wiped the violent thoughts from his mind. He took several deep breaths and felt the fangs retract. Looking into the mirror, he was relieved to see his reflection again.

  “Someone once said the mirror reflected the soul. I guess it does.” Roman leaned against the counter and rubbed his brow. It was all too much for his brain to process.

  Shaking his head, Roman returned to his bedroom and dressed in his favorite gray sweater and dark corduroy slacks. Feeling more relaxed and normal, Roman shoved his feet into his well-worn leather slippers. It was beginning to feel like a very normal evening.

  Yet it was not.

  He was forever changed.

  Leaving the serenity of his room, Roman checked in on Alisha. She was sleeping peacefully, looking fair and beautiful on her satin pillows. Next, Roman tested Vanora’s door and found it locked. Satisfied that his sisters were safe and resting in peace, Roman hurried down the large oak staircase to the main floor and briskly walked into his study.

  It was exactly as he had left it. The leather chair crackled as he sat down, an old familiar sound. He ran his hands over the armrests, then pulled open a desk drawer. The business deal he had been working on when he had been killed was directly on. The facts and figures meant nothing to him now.

  Roman stood and searched a cabinet where he stored his leather journals. After selecting a new one, he returned to his desk and pulled out a pen. He stared at the blank page for a long moment, sighed, and rested his chin on his fist.

  “Where to begin?” he wondered aloud.

  His eyes roamed the room as he sat in silence. Everything was the same and yet, he was different. He turned to a fresh page and wrote at the top “Goals” and underlined it.

  “I want to remain Roman Socoli and not become a beast,” he whispered as he wrote. “Therefore I shall not kill innocent people but I will find a new way to feed. Animal blood, perhaps? I will continue to live in my house and sleep in my bed as I always have. I will find a way to control my estate even though that means revealing myself to Uncle Nicolau.” Roman paused and pressed his fist against his mouth as he pondered the situation. “I will cling to God and fight this curse. I know that evil thoughts do nothing more than steal from my soul and from who I truly am. I must control this horrible hunger, the beast within. I will protect Alisha and Vanora, even if it means my death. If such a time comes that I would ever hurt any of them, I will kill myself.”

  The words began to flow as he continued scrawling his thoughts across the pages of the journal for the next few hours. When Roman felt his limbs growing weary at last, he looked at the clock. It would soon be sunrise. Was it true that he could not go out in the daylight? He closed his journal and stored it in his desk.

  Roman hurried upstairs and into Alisha’s room. He pulled the curtains shut and secured them with safety pins. No sunlight could get in, just in case the legends were true. Nervous and edgy, he paced restlessly.

  “How do I know if the legend is true?” There was only one way.

  Entering the hall, he stepped back into the deepest shadows and stared out the window at the far end of the hall. The sky was growing lighter, indigo turning to softer shades of lavender and blue. Gray shafts of light began to trickle through the window and onto the floor and Roman hesitantly stepped closer to the window. Pinkish-gold ribbons gleamed just above the horizon and Roman moved even closer. Pale beams of morning sunlight fell on his skin, fiercely hot, burning his flesh.

  With a muffled cry, Roman fell back into the shadows. His skin was not scorched, just reddened slightly. Now he knew. The sun could harm him.

  “In darkness we must abide,” he whispered sadly.

  The house was full of shadows.

  As Vanora walked through the halls of her home, she felt as though she dwelt alone in a nightmare-world. The once comfortable surroundings seemed strange, even menacing. Yet she had faith in Roman. Her beloved brother had promised to take care of her and since he was a loyal man who honored his family above all else, she believed him.

  Soon Alisha would be awake and Vanora would have her family back... in a strange and different way.

  Vanora paused in the doorway leading into the kitchen and watched the middle-aged Miss Robbins hurry about. She wasn’t really a miss: she was actually married to Ryan, the gardener, but Vanora had always known her as Miss Robbins and continued calling her that even after the housekeeper had married. Miss Robbins had a strong, stocky figure and shocking red hair streaked with white that she twisted into a braid that hung down her back. Her freckled face was always graced with a grin and laugh lines surrounded her green eyes. She liked to tell how she had left her native Ireland when she was a child because “Too many bombs going off is not good for my health,” and how the Socoli’s had taken her in. Vanora could not remember a time when Miss Robbins had not been in her life.

  “What you be wanting?” Miss Robbins inquired when she became aware of Vanora. “A little snack perhaps?”

  Vanora casually walked over to the housekeeper, who was busy kneading bread dough. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Dinner is a good six hours away, dear,” Miss Robbins responded, eyeing Vanora thoughtfully. “I’m believing that you’ve got a bottomless pit for a stomach.”

  “Can I have some dough?” Vanora asked, leaning against the counter.

  “Put some flour on your hands,” Miss Robbins instructed.

  Vanora rubbed her hands over the heavily floured wooden board, and Miss Robbins yanked a bit of dough off the lump in her hands.

  “Here you go.”

  Vanora tugged on the dough with her fingers, her mouth set in a somber line. “Alisha wants to see you and Mr. Ryan tonight in Roman’s study at seven o’clock. I forgot to tell you earlier. Are you mad?” Vanora felt nervous and unsure of herself. Was she doing the right thing by helping Roman?

  “Nah, there’s no reason to be mad. You told us in plenty of time. Will Alisha be eating with us or is she too sick?”

  Vanora rolled the dough between her fingers thoughtfully. “I think she’s too sick... kind of.”

  “Well, I’ll make some for all of us and put a bit aside for her.” Miss Robbins flashed her wide grin and dropped her dough into a large bowl and covered it to let it rise. “Are you going to make that into a wee loaf?”

  Vanora balled up the dough and stared at it. “I think I mushed it up too good. Maybe I’d better throw it out.” Her face was very somber. “I don’t think it’s any good for anything.”

  Miss Robbins studied Vanora worriedly. “Well, maybe we can make some cookies later on,” she suggested.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Vanora responded. She walked over to the sink and rinsed the flour off her hands. I’m going to be in my room. I have to do some thinking.”

  “Not playing?”

  Vanora shook her he
ad solemnly. “I have things to think about.”

  With a sigh, she wandered back into the murky corridors of the house.

  Miss Robbins watched the moody child leave the kitchen, her hands plunged deeply into her jean pockets. It wasn’t right for such a young thing to be so serious. After losing her brother, and in such a ghastly way, it was expected for Vanora to be upset. Instead, she seemed preoccupied and downright grim. She didn’t even seem to be mourning Roman.

  She shivered inwardly. Her dream last night was right. Something was seriously wrong in the house.

  As the sun sank beneath the horizon, its pink and gold rays faded into a dark, cloudy sky. Windows began to light up in the imposing house and the clatter of people cleaning up after dinner mingled with the moaning of the wind.

  Night had come.

  Alisha’s eyes snapped open, her hands clutching the quilt. Eyes wide and staring, she flipped her covers off and sat up, her body tensed. Her limbs were on fire, an unbelievable hunger, a deep dark desire, was spreading through her. Golden threads of hair fell about her shoulders as she slid off the bed. Her bare feet touching the cold floor, her black nightgown dissolved into the night about her.

  “Alisha,” a voice called out behind her, but she did not acknowledge him. Her senses were concentrating on one thing: the powerful, unbelievable hunger that was raging through her body.

  She needed to feed.

  “Alisha!”

  Roman scrambled out of his makeshift bed and rushed toward her. This time his sister seemed to hear him and whirled about. Her eyes glowed brightly with the madness of the hunger. The hands at her sides were flexed, the fingers outstretched like claws. Roman was shocked at the inhuman appearance of his sister’s face. This was not the Alisha he knew. Her golden hair fell about a feral face with flushed cheeks and eyes like coals on fire

  “I want to help you,” Roman said soothingly.

  Alisha hissed.

  “Please, Alisha. It’s me, your brother, Roman,” he persisted, stepping toward her.

  A low growl rumbled through her chest. The ruby lips drew back, exposing long fangs sliding downward.

  Roman hesitated too long. She evaded him, flung herself at the door and wrenched it open. Roman was after her in a second, tripping in his haste. Her long slender body appeared weightless as she sprinted down the hall toward Vanora’s room.

  “Alisha!”

  The vampire turned on him, hissing. The hunger distorted her features, yet she was incredibly beautiful, more so than before. She threateningly growled at him while gripping the doorknob to Vanora’s room. Roman was a few feet from her but he knew her newborn predator instincts made her faster than he was. He had to reach through the madness somehow.

  “Alisha, you don’t want to hurt Vanora. Please come to me.”

  “Vanora,” Alisha said in a quite normal voice. The fiendish expression on her face was chilling. “Open the door, Vanora.”

  “Alisha!” Vanora’s excited voice called out from within the room.

  “Yes, it’s me. Open the door, Vanora.” Alisha’s eyes were narrowed slyly. She grinned at Roman, her long teeth gleaming.

  The door started to open and Alisha tensed to pounce. Roman sprang forward and caught her about the waist.

  “Shut the door, Vanora!” Roman ordered.

  The child had hardly cracked the door, but she immediately obeyed.

  Roman rushed down the hall, the writhing vampire hissing and growling furiously. When they reached the windows at the end of the hall, Roman leaped through the glass panes. The explosion of shattering glass filled the night, then his feet touched the ground. Alisha almost slipped free, but he forcefully held her to him. Her sharp nails tore into his skin savagely as she fought to be free. The ferocity of her screams and gaze were terrifying.

  The dew-covered grass was slick beneath his feet and he slipped, falling. Alisha wrenched free, scrambling away. He caught her, and she slashed him across the face. Rage filled Roman and he slapped her, knocking her over.

  “Stop it, Alisha!” he roared. Taking several deep breaths to calm himself, Roman pinned her to the ground.

  Hissing savagely, Alisha struggled against him.

  Roman’s anger subsided, replaced by overwhelming depression. Tears flowed as he pulled his raging sister to her feet. Resolute, he pulled her toward the mausoleum. Her sharp nails tore at the hand grasping her wrist, but his hold only tightened.

  The mausoleum loomed before them, dark and grotesque. Roman passed through the closed doors easily and drew Alisha in behind him. Once inside, he hurled her toward the unconscious drug addict. With a howl of delight, Alisha fell on him, her nightgown spreading out about her like a cloak. The savagery of her attack was horrifying and Roman turned away.

  The hunger growing within him tortured his senses while he listened to her feed. Reluctantly, he gazed at her form draped over the pale young man. Knowing he had to feed, Roman knelt. The fear and pain of what he had become mingled with the need to eat. Alisha sensed him near her and lifted her bloodied face and growled.

  Roman covered his face with one hand and sank onto his heels. This was a nightmare. In that moment he wanted to die, but knew he had to care for his sisters. It was his duty. He had to protect his family. Roman grabbed one of the man’s wrists. Long teeth descending, Roman growled and bit into the yielding flesh.

  It was nearly a half hour later when he heard a scream that jostled him from his blood lust. He raised his head to see Alisha gaping at the bloody punctures in the junkie’s throat. The hunger was gone from her eyes and replaced by horror.

  Alisha lifted trembling hands to her face to cover her eyes and saw the dark crimson blood staining them. With a frightened cry, she cowered against the cold stone wall. Trembling, she gawked at Roman as he wiped the thick blood from his mouth.

  “Alisha,” Roman whispered.

  Alisha frantically tried to wipe the blood from her hands on her nightgown.

  “Alisha.” Roman gently touched her shoulder.

  Large, terrified eyes turned to him. “You’re dead,” she whispered.

  Roman took her hands gently and wiped the blood from them with the bottom of his shirt. “No, I’m not. Remember what happened. I’m now a vampire.”

  She blanked for a second, then she gasped. “Yes, I remember! Oh, Roman! Oh my God!”

  “You tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen to you.”

  “You died!” Alisha’s hands fluttered to her face. “Then I went to kill it!”

  “Your cross had fallen from your chain. He fed off of you.”

  “Oh, God! I remember,” Alisha uttered in a hushed voice.

  “I tried to stop him from getting to you, but, last night-” Roman cut himself off. “Do you remember yesterday?”

  “Your funeral.”

  “No, that was the day before,” Roman said, shaking his head.

  “I had dreams, Roman, that I was a puppet and someone was controlling me.”

  “That was yesterday. He was controlling you. I felt his thoughts flowing toward the house. Last night, he killed you. Then I killed him, but I was too late for you. I’m so sorry, Alisha.”

  Alisha looked puzzled, then terrified. Lifting her cleaned hand, she touched her fingertips to her wet lips, drew them away, and stared at the fresh blood on them. Her wide eyes settled on the form of the junkie.

  “No! Oh, God, no! It can’t be!” Alisha wailed.

  Roman held her close as she cried mournfully, her entire body quivering. “We’ll find a way to conquer this curse, Alisha.”

  “I want to die! I want to die!” Alisha sobbed. “Please, kill me!”

  “I can’t, Alisha,” Roman whispered, stroking her hair.

  “I don’t want to live like this. I killed that man!”

  “Please listen to me,” Roman whispered vehemently. He took her face in his hands and piercingly gazed into her eyes. “I will find a way to protect us, save us from all of this. We will not feed off humans
again. We do not have to take life. I will find a way to save us from this horror. We are still Alisha and Roman Socoli!”

  Alisha closed her eyes, as though unable to gaze upon her hideous surroundings. “Please, Roman, please wake me up,” she pleaded.

  Roman pressed his forehead against hers, tears slipping down his face, mingling with hers. “I am your brother. I will protect you. I promise it.”

  “Make the dream end, Roman,” Alisha sobbed. “Please make this nightmare end. Wake me up, please.”

  “It’s no dream, Alisha. We are transformed. We are no longer mortal, but we can fight against what we are now. We will fight for our humanity.”

  “But we’re not human!” Alisha protested. “I feel it inside. I know I’m not who I was!”

  “But you are! You are Alisha Socoli! You must always cling to that fact, or you will become what you fear most.” Roman held her tightly to him, wishing desperately to soothe her fears and his own, but the living nightmare would not end. They were supernatural creatures of the night, kneeling within a dark, dank mausoleum, the dead surrounding them, welcoming them to this world of endless darkness.

  Alisha drew a ragged breath. “I want to die.”

  “Think of Vanora, Alisha. What will become of her?”

  “She’s not one of us?” Alisha face registered the horror of the mere thought of the desecration of an innocent child.

  “No, but she needs us. She knows what we are now and I have spoken with her. She knows we will not hurt her.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “We’ve fed and there is no danger of us going mad with the hunger anymore. As long as we feed before the hunger can fully control us, we are safe around her. She needs us, Alisha. And we need her. We are a family. Tell me. Would you ever hurt her?”

  “Never!”

  “Neither would I,” Roman declared. And yet the memory of Alisha’s madness made him wince inwardly. The hunger was so powerful they must always control it. “We will find a way to survive.