by Jane Jordan
“But some do survive in another form,” I said looking at him.
“Yes,” he agreed. “But it is not a good thing to survive, look at me forever falling into despair, it is not the natural way of things.”
“But what about ghosts and other supernatural beings?” I pressed. Darius considered for a moment.
“They are not real, they too have gone, but their energy, their aura is suspended in time. Forever falling, but never fallen.” He made it all sound so sad. The implication that a ghost remained forever suspended in time and never at peace, even if it wasn’t real, seemed to me a pitiful state to be left in. Darius turned towards the door we had entered earlier. “It is getting late and we need to leave,” he remarked.
“You do not stay here?” I was surprised.
“I can, although you will be more comfortable at the house.” Seeing my confused look he said: “The house in Parson Place.”
“Is it close?” I felt that I had totally lost my sense of direction and now I wasn’t sure what part of London we were in.
“It is two roads from here,” he continued, “but there is an alleyway that provides a short cut. That is the reason I chose that particular house, so I would be close to the museum.” Darius went through a ritual of locking everything and we passed through the garage. I retrieved my bag from the car and he locked the doors behind us. We walked in the darkness with the shadows gently enveloping us and the quietness of the early hours was comforting for our presence together in the city.
Darius had not exaggerated when he said the house was close, it was a very short walk. We did not enter Parson Place through the front door, but through a gate set into a brick wall at the rear of the property. We entered into a small courtyard and then moved across to the side of the building, where there was another metal gate that covered the side door. Darius unlocked both doors and we entered into a small compact kitchen, devoid of any of the usual type of clutter that you would normally expect to find. From this room we went into a hallway, and that led through to a front living room. Contained within this room were the standard museum quality furnishings that I had become accustomed to being around Darius. The dust indicated that no-one had sat in here for many years. Darius, seemingly very in tune with my thoughts tonight turned to me.
“I do not spend much time in here, but mostly in the library.”
The library was filled with books and I didn’t’t even have to pick one up to know they were rare and extremely valuable. Darius continued the tour of the house and we walked up the stairs. The whole house felt very regal, with its high ceilings, ornate plaster-work and intricate door casings, but nothing less than I had come to expect as I knew how Darius appreciated the beauty in everyday things.
There were three bedrooms and a bathroom, all contained beautiful vintage furnishings and every room had heavy velvet or damask curtains obscuring the windows. I took in the interior of the house and a feeling of déjà’vu came to me. It felt like the first time I had walked into Ravens Deep.
“Where do you sleep?” I suddenly asked as Darius never slept in a bed by day.
“I will show you,” he said and a sudden feeling of dread went through my mind.
“It’s not another chamber is it?” Darius smiled.
“I know the chamber at Ravens Deep disturbs you so. It is really not that sinister,” he remarked, looking amused at my obvious discomfort.
“I know,” I said. “It just seemed a little horrifying.” In truth, I had tried not to think about that chamber too much, as it did in fact disturb me and I had not entered it since the first time.
“Don’t worry, you will not find this quite so claustrophobic.” Darius led me down to the basement, via a set of back stairs. Metal grates covered two small window openings from the inside. The walls were made of rough red brickwork and the basement was empty apart from a couple of old boxes. He lit a candle and took my hand before leading me around the side of what I initially thought was the back wall.
To my surprise a door was concealed in the darkest shadows of the corner and Darius opened the door to reveal a dark room, a chamber of sorts, and the inevitable coffin. Darius pointed to the trap door in the floor and explained that it led under the house into old tunnels that were long since forgotten.
“Where does it lead to?”
“They lead under the roads and connect some of the old houses,” he answered. “Many have been sealed up, but this one leads to three tunnels, one of which connects to an old crypt in a nearby church. The crypt itself remains sealed, so there is no access from inside the church.” He added, “In an emergency I would easily be able to unseal it and escape. The tunnels are empty. No one ever goes under there and you can seal this trapdoor from above, so no one can mistakenly enter from below.” “What were the tunnels used for?” I asked, thinking that there must be a whole network under London streets.
“Years ago they were probably used as escape routes, especially the one leading out of the church, or smuggling routes up from the river Thames. There are various old derelict houses around this area that still have their tunnels unsealed,” he continued, as the flickering candlelight cast dark eerie shadows all around us. “But today they are useful passageways and tunnels to get rid of unwanted corpses, I have had to make use of them on several occasions over the years.” I felt myself go cold and stared at him in horror. Darius looked at me directly. “You wanted all of my life, well this is it!” he said with sudden coldness.
“I know Darius, I just don’t need to know all the details,” I said just as coldly, trying to compose myself and repress the images that my mind was conjuring up. It was as if I was listening to some bizarre horror story; if it wasn’t quite so chilling, it was amazing.
My heart was pounding, and I felt myself tremble as Darius knew only too well
the effect his words would have on me, and right now the demon in him was trying to surface and provoke a negative reaction in me. I took a deep breath and tried to remain cordial. I looked down at the coffin.
“Have you never slept in a bed?”
“I lay in your bed,” he remarked icily.
“But you always leave me,” I reminded him. “Whenever I awake you are gone,” I said softly. Darius’s coldness just as suddenly disappeared, for his tone was even as he continued.
“When I sleep you know I am vulnerable. It is better that I remain hidden and a coffin gives essential protection. At first it felt right to sleep in a coffin because of what I am, a fitting place for the damned,” he remarked with a sinister edge to his voice. “Even though it was frightening being contained so, but over the decades I have grown accustomed to it and now I feel too vulnerable if I don’t,” he reasoned. We soon left the basement and walked back up the stairs to the main part of the house, I was glad to be in more familiar looking rooms. Darius turned to me.
“I have to leave you alone for a while,” he said, “then I must rest.” He kissed me very quickly, his lips and skin was chilled. “I will not disturb you when I come back. You are very safe here, Madeline. You may go anywhere in the house, but do not leave it.” There was an underlying threat in his voice.
“I won’t, I promise.”
He left via the side door and I heard him lock both doors as he went out into the night. I walked to the kitchen and wondered why he had turned so cold towards me down in the basement. Maybe that cruel cold streak surfaced when he was confronted with reality, because it was then that the inner demon had more control. I had to deal with it; it was a part of his life and now I was a part of that life too. It wasn’t as if he killed people for fun, he needed to do it in order to survive. I understood that he was tormented by what he was.
If he can bear the torment, I would have to as well.
I tried my hardest to reassure myself that everything was going to be all right, but I wiped away the tears that were running down my face.
In the kitchen I opened the cupboards and to my surprise I found there was a set of croc
kery and cutlery. I had brought a kettle, so I could make some tea. It had been a long night and I felt tired. Although I was curious about this house filled with more mysterious things, but I resigned myself to thoroughly explore in the daylight and before Darius awoke the next evening.
I walked upstairs to the biggest bedroom, and pulled back the covers from the bed. Dust filled the air and suddenly feeling better than earlier, I smiled to myself.
Immortals may be educated and refined, but they knew nothing about housekeeping!
* * *
We spent four nights in London and the hours I spent alone were filled with wonder at the contents of the house. There were beautiful items in the house, exquisite paintings, ornaments and rare books to keep me amused and all these discoveries filled me with great delight. When I questioned Darius about all these objects d’art allowed to languish in the museum and here, he merely replied,
“Take anything you want, if it pleases you.”
I soon discovered that Darius was quite jaded with all his possessions -- he had so much. The collection had grown in vast quantities over the years and I felt he just collected now for the sake of it and he was not really aware of everything he had acquired.
I decided to take two paintings back with me to Ravens Deep. They were so beautiful and I didn’t’t have to examine them closely to know they were originals. Darius had exquisite taste and the snob in him would never have allowed him to acquire a fake of anything.
Darius realized that I was not so much of a threat to him in the city as he had first anticipated, but I did obey his warnings and did not leave the house without him. I did not wish to provoke that inner demon. Darius was correct in his assumption, that mortals only really see what they want to and we moved amongst them in the night time hours, without bringing any unwanted attention to ourselves. Darius did not even look out of place in a city like London. Since the gothic revival, it was fashionable to look deathly pale and sinister and even with the vivid glass like quality of his eyes, anyone would have been fooled into thinking that they were just beautiful contact lenses. Shops stayed open late into the evening, and I was able to buy groceries and anything I needed, so I did not even have to think about breaking my promise to Darius.
In truth, I felt Darius was quite at home and comfortable in the city, he knew no real attention would be drawn to him. I suspected that it was me that he was more concerned about. That I might remember, or miss this life and wish to return to it and to a normal existence but it was not what I wanted and I assured him of my longing to remain by his side forever.
After four nights in the city, I could sense his agitation, I knew he longed to be back at Ravens Deep. I also had begun to miss the peace, tranquillity and beauty of the moors. When Darius said it was time to leave, I had no regrets.
Chapter Twenty Four - A Sacrificial Site
We left the bright lights of London behind, and my thoughts turned to Darius’s
house that I had not yet seen. I changed my position and looked at him hopefully.
“Will you take me to the house in Wiltshire?” I asked, “just for one night?” From our present location we could be there in a little over two hours. Darius gave me a questioning look before returning his attention to the road ahead.
“Why tonight?”
“I really would like to see it, and it would be very easy for us to go there tonight and then continue on to Exmoor tomorrow night,” I reasoned. He didn’t’t answer me straight away, he was obviously thinking my plan through.
“I will take you there tonight,” he said at last, “but it will not be as comfortable as the other houses, and there is nothing in the house to keep you amused.”
“I am sure I will manage,” I said, with a confident smile, “besides, realistically we will only be there for a few hours.”
Later on we were driving through the Wiltshire countryside, the landscape seemed to transform completely. Wiltshire was famous for its chalk uplands, vast plains and of course its most famous monument.
“Do we pass close to Stonehenge?” I asked, as an idea was beginning to take root in my mind.
“Yes very close,” he replied.
“Can we stop at the stones? The weather is perfect; there is almost a full moon with no clouds in the sky.” Darius didn’t’t answer, but returned my smile with his own, which I took to mean that he was agreeable to my request.
As we approached the ancient ruin and I thought how mystical and magical it appeared, as it rose out of the darkened earth and was bathed in the bright moonlight. The road on which we travelled seemed to roll up and down over the ancient burial mounds and most of the landscape was bare of any trees or undergrowth. The only notable exception was a large clump opposite the ancient monument. We headed for this copse and at our approach I could see it hid various buildings, a mixture of touristy gift shops, a visitor centre and other out-buildings. It was deserted, as we had arrived in the early hours of the morning. Darius passed by all these buildings and chose to stop at the far end of a designated parking area. He parked very close to the trees and as we walked away, I noticed that the Wraith’s silhouette seemed to vanish into the obscurity of the darkened foliage.
We crossed the deserted road and walked up the small incline. Salisbury Plain stretched out before us. From the road the stones had looked large, but now standing so close to them I was in awe of their magnificence, which was enhanced only by the moonlight casting mysterious shadows around them.
In recent years the fences that barricaded this ancient monument had come down, in response to the protests of the people, and quite rightly so I thought, everyone should be able to walk around these stones -- not just a select few. Standing so close to them, I could not help wonder just how many druid priests had worshipped at this site, or how many pagan festivals had taken place here. I took hold of Darius’s hand and we walked round the megalithic ruin in silence. I ran my hand over one of the upright Trilithon stones and wondered how many countless other people had also touched this stone over the centuries.
We walked into the inner horseshoe made up of the Preseli bluestones and as soon as I entered this area, I could feel their power and their magic. There was energy here and I wondered if all stone circles possessed that same energy. I considered the message they wished to convey, for I was certain this mysterious site had some real purpose, some reason for its existence.
“What do you suppose this was really used for?” I asked, looking at Darius. He looked up at the stones.
“There have been various theories over the years,” he said. “The ancients may have used it for sacrificial purposes, but there has also been a belief that it is a temple made for the worship of ancient earth deities or even an astronomical observatory. There are so many mysterious things you cannot expect to understand them all.” He released my hand and bent down to place his hand on one of the fallen Sarsen stones.
“Do you feel anything?” I asked, fascinated to find out if he felt their energy too.
“I feel death,” he answered darkly, looking up at me from under his eyelashes. I
laughed.
“You would say that, knowing that people were probably sacrificed here and we are standing surrounded by hundreds of burial mounds.”
“What do you feel?” he said, amused at my comment. I turned from him and walked into the centre of the horseshoe. I stood still for a minute, then turned back to face him.
“It feels like a place steeped in mystery and magic, I feel that there is energy here. It is something I have never felt before.” Darius was now sitting on one of the fallen stones watching me attentively.
“Tell me you feel it too,” I said, walking slowly towards him. “I am not just imagining it, am I?”
“No,” he said, suddenly alert, “there is something here.” As he spoke he reached forward and pulled me down beside him.
“What is it?” I whispered, feeling suddenly afraid.
“We are not alone.”
I turned and looked at the stones directly behind me, half expecting to see an apparition of some kind -- but there was nothing. I turned back to Darius, to get him to explain. But he had vanished. I jumped, I had not felt him move from my side. My heart raced, and every sense was horribly alert. It was eerily quiet and I sat still not daring to move. I hoped there wasn’t anyone else here. If there was. . . I dreaded Darius’s reaction to that possibility.
A sudden movement, made me turn my head quickly to the side. A hooded figure wearing a long dark robe move out from the shadows of the stones, his face was obscured by the material of the hood. My blood went cold in my veins and the sensation of fear made its full impact throughout my entire body. .
What should I do? Where is Darius? Maybe he will just walk by and keep walking, I could avoid eye contact. Just ignore him and he will go away.
All these thoughts and more ran frantically through my head, then Darius moved into my line of sight. His silhouette partially obscured the hooded figure from me, even though they were only a few feet away. I shuddered, sensing a frightening situation about to unfold. The robed figure tried to talk, but a garbled sound was the only noise that came from him. Instinctively I got up from the stone, frightened of what was happening. Darius’s hand was gripping the man’s throat. Darius had seen my movement, because in the same instant, he turned his head towards me.
Stay there! Were the words that came to me, but he hadn’t spoken. I quickly sat
down again, too frightened not to obey him.
What should I do? What could I do?
Darius was about to kill someone here right in front of me and every instinct inside my head cried out in protest. I had to stop him.
“Darius,” I whispered loudly, catching my breath in a sob, “please don’t.” My heart was pounding now, my throat was dry, but Darius gave me a long look, before he dragged the robed figure behind an ancient stone, and out of my sight.
My breath came back to me in a stifled gasp, I wanted to stop Darius, I wanted to reason with him, but fear kept me rooted to the spot, the only thing I could do was clasp my hands tightly together to stop them shaking, and hold my breath to stop myself crying out loud.