by Bell Stoires
Ari shook her head; she should not have these thoughts, they were wrong, even disgusting. Whatever Ragon was or wasn’t, and she wasn’t prepared to say or even think the term vampire, he was also a murderer. He had killed those boys. Ari didn’t have any pity for her rapists, but to kill them then and there, without so much as any signs of remorse, well, it was scary. Perhaps she could understand it if Ragon were a dear friend, or her boyfriend, or even her brother, but he was a stranger.
It was late on what she guessed was her second night of imprisonment, when Ragon finally graced her with his presence again. Ari heard the door creak open and raced over to it, desperate for any contact with the outside world.
“What am I doing here,” she exclaimed.
The time she had spent in this room had left her with nothing more than the desire to be free of it. Everything that had happened to her felt like a nightmare, one which she was desperate to wake from.
“Ari,” Ragon whispered back, “I am sorry you have had to stay here so long. It took me longer then I hoped to arrange suitable accommodations.”
He had said her name… but how did he know it? She had spent years watching him, wondering who he was; how could he possible know her? For a moment she thought of asking him, but how he knew her name wasn’t important, escaping was.
“I can’t stay here,” she pleaded, but Ragon held out his hand to silence her; a silence which came immediately.
“I need you to listen to me,” he said. “I need you to trust me.”
“But-” said Ari; she was aware of the way his eyes had changed. One minute they had been indifferent, but now they were imploring, almost apologetic.
“-I have somewhere you can stay and be safe,” he said, standing up and moving to the door.
“Why?” she shouted.
“Why, what?” asked Ragon, his voice perfectly calm, all traces of emotion gone now.
“Why are you taking me somewhere else?” she asked. “Why not just kill me here and be done with it? Why do you want to keep me safe?”
Ragon grinned at her. His smile spread across his face, lighting his already green eyes and making them sparkle. For years she had wondered what he would look like when he smiled, and now she knew; his smile made him appear, if it were possible, even more desirable. But never in a million years would she have dreamed that the cause for his smile would be his amusement at the thought of killing her.
“You really expected me to know that’s what you meant with a simple why?” he said.
Ari frowned at him; why was he being so… so blasé about the situation. But it was more than that; was it Ari’s imagination or was he being sarcastic?
“Here’s a question for you. Why would I want to kill you?” said Ragon, his words slow and purposeful, as if he were talking to someone much younger than himself, though Ari thought he could be no more than late twenties.
“I am a human?” said Ari.
For the first time since she had seen him, Ragon laughed, revealing two rows of perfectly straight teeth. There was no trace of the pointed canines, and he looked simply like a young man enthralled in a joke or revelation. Without realising it, Ari found that she was smiling but then quickly shook herself; what was wrong with her?
“I won’t hurt you,” he said.
“But-” Ari began to say, before Ragon interrupted her.
“-don’t you think if I wanted to kill you I would have done it by now? Why would I go to all the trouble of rescuing you and feeding you, if I was just going to murder you?” he said.
Ari stared up at him in confusion. The same infectious smile was spreading across his lips; was he actually enjoying this banter?
“How should I know what you would do?” she said, her hands on her hips. “It’s not like this sort of thing happens to me very often.”
“Well,” said Ragon, moving into the next room, “if you want to make sure that this isn’t a regular occurrence in your life, then I suggest you trust me.”
Ari followed obediently, uncertain of how else to respond and moved into the next room. She had been surprised that Ragon had answered her questions, something which she was certain he would not do, but for him to go so far as to suggest that she should trust him? Suddenly a loud slamming noise pulled Ari from these thoughts; she watched as Ragon locked the door to the room she had been kept in, slowly sliding a large wooden sleeper into a cradle across the wall.
The next room that Ragon led her to seemed a little larger than where she had been kept. A candelabrum shone down onto a central table; next to this was a small desk in the corner, on top of which sat a motorcycle magazine. Across the room was an easel, holding a blank canvas, besides which were many haphazardly placed paintbrushes and paints. It had just occurred to her that this might be where Ragon lived.
“You live here?” she asked.
Like the room she had slept in, the walls were made of stone, but there were deep grooves in their face where small alcoves held various shaped vessels. She wasn’t sure what it was about this place, but it made her feel thoroughly creeped out. There was a draft about the room, as if it weren’t properly closed off from the outside. With an odd sense of foreboding, Ari moved slowly backwards, hitting something hard and cold.
As her eyes focused on one of the recesses, she saw a shiny metallic plaque fixed to the wall beneath an urn, and read out the inscription in a whisper, “Lillian Young- 1796 to 1835.”
A shiver raced down her spine; suddenly Ari realised why she felt so frightened here- she was in a tomb.
“My mother,” whispered Ragon, and Ari felt his words right against her ear, as if he were an inch away.
Ari jumped, surprised to find that what she had been leaning against was in fact Ragon’s cold body.
“It’s ok,” he said, seeing her scurry away from him. “I won’t bite.”
Ari cocked an eyebrow. Again there was a sense of dark humour behind his words, almost as if he were bantering with her.
“I didn’t want to bring you here but it was the only safe place,” he said, before straightening himself, blowing out the candles then moving quickly outside.
Ari blinked in the darkness. When she looked around, she realised that the door to the large room was open and Ragon was gone. A cool breeze flittered over to her, and Ari smelt sweet night jasmine and knew that the door to her prison was finally open. Without warning a harsh revving sounded, breaking the crisp silence. Taking one last glance around, Ari stared again at the stone table in the centre of the room. There was something odd about its heavy surface and lack of chairs. Inching closer, she read an inscription on the top, ‘Sarah & George Hutton,’ and realised that it was actually a large crypt. There were no dates below the engraving, as there had been with the urn of ashes, but the words evoked a strange feeling in Ari, as if she had heard them before. Another loud rev of an engine interrupted her thoughts, and she walked out of the mausoleum and into the night, closing the large door behind her.
As soon as she stepped onto the rocky ground outside, cool air whipped around her face; it was night time. The moon was high in the sky though its bright light only just managed to reach her, filtered by the many large gums that were scattered as far as the eye could see. Jutting out from the earth all around her were stone slabs, each in various stages of decay from the ravaging of time.
“You live in a cemetery?” she asked, horrified at this realisation.
Ragon reappeared next to her and pointed at the building they had just come out of. Just barely visible on the wall, next to the entrance, were the words, ‘Young Familia.’
“This is my family’s mausoleum,” he said.
“Which cemetery is this?” asked Ari.
“Toowong Cemetery,” he said, and Ari knew that at the very least she was still in Brisbane.
Trying not to be overwhelmed by the sense of foreboding at being in a cemetery with a vampire at night, Ari looked around, thinking of a way to escape. A loud hooting sound made her look up nervous
ly, until she realised that it was just an owl, sitting in one of the large gumtrees. For one insane moment, the idea of simply running crossed her mind, but she doubted that her second place in junior track would be enough to let her outrun a vampire. Dismissing all notions of escape, Ari followed Ragon, soon realising that the revving she had heard was coming from a large black motorcycle, parked a little while off in a clearing.
As Ari inched towards Ragon, she saw that he held a small silver helmet in his hands, which he gently placed on Ari’s head when she had reached him. A slight rustling in a nearby bush caught Ragon’s attention and he quickly raced towards the noise, frantically searching the surrounding area at blinding speed, looking for the cause of the disturbance.
“Just a possum I guess,” he said, taking one final glance around the cemetery, apparently unconvinced.
“As opposed to what, an axe-murderer?” asked Ari, unable to hide the annoyance in her voice.
“There are worse things than axe-murders,” Ragon replied seriously.
After that Ragon moved over to his bike, swinging his leg up so that he straddled it and placing the black helmet she had seen on so many occasions, onto his head.
“I’m not getting on that,” said Ari, glaring at the bike.
Her determination surprised her, and she thought back to only a few days ago, when she had day dreamt about riding with the mysterious man from the library, taking a midnight stroll on his bike.
“I didn’t realise you had a choice; although if you prefer it we could walk, though with the hills it might take us a while,” he said.
Ari stared pointedly at the bike, still not moving. When Ragon realised that Ari’s threat was legitimate, he dismounted and lifted her effortlessly onto the pavilion seat before joining her, revving the engine again and taking off. Ari was instantly off balance and gripped onto him, her hands held tight around his waist. As they rode out of the cemetery, Ragon continued to scan the area for any sign of movement. Two bright honey coloured eyes blinked once from behind a crumbling angelic statue, watching silently as the pair left.
It wasn’t a particularly cold night, but Ari shivered during most of the journey. The wind whipped past her violently, bringing wave after wave of goose bumps to the surface of her skin, while her teeth chattered loudly. Without warning, Ragon pulled the bike over to the side of the road. Ari looked around, searching for traffic or any sign of someone who could help her. Without giving much thought to the consequences, she drew in a large breath ready to scream, when Ragon suddenly pulled his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders. Staring at him in confusion, all the air in her lungs left and she felt oddly deflated. Instantly she shook her head. What was she thinking? How had she missed her one chance to scream for help?
The desperation took hold of her again as she glanced around at the surrounding houses. The absence of lights shining through the windows made her think that it must be very late; maybe everybody was asleep? Anxious now, Ari let out a piercing, blood curdling scream and instantly Ragon revved the engine, drowning out the sound. For a moment the pair stared at each other, Ari’s eyes wide and scared, while Ragon looked disappointed more than anything.
“Really; you scream now?” he said, a small smile spreading across his face. “Hold on,” he added, before speeding away.
As they rode to wherever Ragon was taking her, he would occasionally glance back or look around, as if checking they weren’t being followed. At one point there was a car close behind them and Ragon slowed, straining to get a glimpse of the driver. Though it crossed her mind, Ari didn’t scream when he did this, and when the car turned off down a side street, Ragon seemed satisfied, increasing the bike’s speed so that they shot forward again.
They were riding for no more than fifteen minutes before they left the road and entered a long driveway. Ari saw an enormous removalist truck reversing, followed shortly by a long black heavily tinted van with the slogan, ‘when you want the tint, call V-tint.’ She thought this was odd, given the lateness of the hour.
Ragan pulled the bike over to the side of the driveway, giving way to the two large trucks. As Ari watched the cars disappear, she couldn’t help but wonder exactly what Ragon had meant when he had said that he needed to organise some things. As they neared the end of the circular driveway, a large garage came into view and just beyond that, what could only be described as a spectacular house; it was three storeys high, with wide verandas all around the first two levels. The third level consisted of a magnificent hexagonal room, surrounded on all sides with high glass windows topped off by a dark blue conical roof.
“Here we are,” said Ragon, watching Ari as she removed her helmet herself.
She still felt slightly embarrassed about her scream and so did not reply. Instead she watched as Ragon blurred up the stairs to the entrance and opened the door, before racing back down the long driveway, obviously checking that they hadn’t been followed.
Ari entered the house first, looking up at the high ceilings and examining each room in turn. The place was enormous, with countless bedrooms and bathrooms, two living areas, a large kitchen and spacious outdoor entertaining area at the back, which looked out onto the city. Each room looked roughly the same, with wooden floors, white walls and antique furniture all covered with thin sheets of plastic. On the windows were black strips of laminate, while each door contained thick security screens and intricate locks.
“This is yours,” said Ragon, when she entered the second bedroom on the first floor.
Ari made more of an effort to examine this room. Walking past the large bed, she peered into the adjoining bathroom, eyeing the shower almost lovingly. Then Ragon entered the room and she froze.
“I also bought you these,” he added, blurring past her and opening the sliding doors of a large built in wardrobe.
Ari stared at the closet and breathed out a sigh of relief; it was full of clothes.
For a moment Ragon watched her, transfixed, and then he raced back to the bedroom door.
“I’ll leave you to get comfortable,” he said.
“Wait,” she called after him, “why am I here?”
“Really?” he asked, “again with the whys?”
“I just mean,” Ari began to say, but Ragon cut her off.
“-Ariana,” he said, and again Ari wondered how he knew her name. “How many times do I have to tell you? You will be safe here. I am not going to eat you; don’t you think that if I wanted to kill you I would have done it by now? You’re not exactly making for a gracious house guest.”
“No, I mean… why buy me clothes and put me in this amazing house, I mean… Jesus, this place is great but why am I here? Why did you stop those boys? Why did you help me?”
Ragon had told her several times that he was keeping her safe, but what did that mean? Was that something that vampires did? Keep people safe so they could have access to an easy meal later on? Was she soon to become that meal? She knew next to nothing about vampires and this more than anything else was the source of her questions.
“Would you have preferred to stay in the cemetery?” he asked.
“No but…” said Ari, trying to gather her thoughts as she stared wildly up at him. “It’s not every day that you find yourself in a house with a vampire. What am I supposed to do?”
“Well,” said Ragon, looking at Ari as if grateful she had started to be a bit more rational, “the way I see it is you have two choices. We stay in this amazing house, or we go back to the mausoleum.”
“Or there is the third option,” she said, and Ragon cocked his head. “You could just let me go? That seems to be something you haven’t thought about”.
“How many times do you need to hear that you won’t be safe,” said Ragon, clearly starting to lose patience.
“Why won’t I be safe?” she asked; Ragon shook his head, already half way out her room before he closed the door shut and left.
In Ragon’s absence, Ari paced around the room several times. Her im
mediate thought was to escape, but what would be the point of that? She couldn’t outrun him and she didn’t have her car here. Perhaps she could reason with him, convince him that she couldn’t stay here. She thought of storming out of the room and demanding that he let her go. Her hand was halfway to the door knob when she stopped. Who was she kidding? How was she going to tell a vampire he had to let her go? Put him in the naughty corner for five minutes if he argued? Maybe threaten him with a couple of wacks with the wooden spoon? No; if Ari wanted to get back to her normal life, it was going to take some planning. Moving to the edge of the room, she pulled the curtains closed and checked to make sure that the door to her bedroom was locked. Satisfied, she then moved into the bathroom, turning the shower on before disrobing and letting the warm water revitalise her.
Forty-five minutes later Ari was drying her hair with a large fluffy white towel and looking through the wardrobe for something to wear. Thumbing through the outfits, she couldn’t help but be impressed with Ragon’s selections. Not only had he chosen nice clothes but they all looked to be the right size. There were outfits for all occasions, each hanging neatly with the tags still attached. She wondered if someone else had perhaps assisted him in his purchases; either way, he had clearly put a lot of thought into her imprisonment. And who said vampires couldn’t be considerate kidnappers? Trying not to laugh manically at this thought, Ari finally settled on a pair of full length olive green pants, some black thongs, a black singlet and a jumper. It felt wonderful wearing the fresh clothes and though her skin was swollen and sore from her attack, the warm water of the shower had rejuvenated her, washing away everything except the bruises and the memories of the last few days.