No sooner had I moved the cinched curtains aside so I could see where we were than the cab rocked. I saw trees to both sides of the dirt path. The cab had fallen into an impassable rut. The driver tried to find a way forward and in his attempt to think that his cab and horses could weather anything, the wheel snagged further and bent at a bad angle. I could feel the whole thing from inside, forcing me to get out of the cab. The horses neighed like they’d gone mad, the driver half-heartedly attempted to reach for the reins but his eyes were fixed on the immense trellis gate that blocked our way. Someone must have made the road unpassable so random cabs carrying courtiers of note wouldn’t collide with the iron gate. It was pitch black and the only light came from two lamps on the cab and they shook in frenzy as the horses tried to escape.
There was a slight drizzle and the air bit to the bone. The iron gate loomed over me and I moved closer to see if I could find a latch. The address did say Von Heisen Estate and the gate seemed to fit the bill. I could see nothing but inky blackness ahead. Mild flashes of lightning inside swollen grey clouds lit what little they could. Two gargoyles teased me with lolling tongues and scheming eyes. There was one to either side of the gate, gifted with their own little pedestal. In the distance a single finger of lightning hit a rod positioned on a high vantage and passed the electricity along a wide arc through receptors that probably used it to store power for later use. We had something similar back at government, but this was a whole other affair. It was a veritable castle, turrets, ramparts, elegant gothic architecture and foreboding in every way. My heart beat fast as I gazed into the unknown. The beasts neighed even louder, bucked, tore their tethers and bolted back the way they’d come with the driver running after them. I felt a shiver and understood why the horses were spooked.
The gate must have worked on a remote control feature—someone rich enough to live in a castle must have access to the latest tech—and I found myself absent of options and a cab. They opened and I walked onto the estate. I swear it got colder. After a few feet, I came across a long corridor formed by a thick boulevard of Kissing trees whose canopies formed the top. In tunnels, the wind has teeth. I remembered the saying but I don’t recall who said it. “Helidon, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” I said and my voice was swished away with the wind that pushed at me as if to say ‘get out, you’re not welcome, why do you keep walking the wrong way’.
The path curved, the natural corridor continued and I eventually made it out the other end. From the gate, the castle seemed so far away and the few minutes spent inside the tunnel felt like a lifetime. Yet here I was, sooner than I’d expected, and there before me loomed an edifice of dire proportions and discouraging elegance. The lights were the only lovely thing about it, warm glows of yellow in differing intensities that revealed intricate architecture, unconventional ornamentation and varied shades of purple and black paint. “Don’t even need a keep-out sign.”
I walked toward the circular driveway, took the stairs after admiring the fountain for a few seconds and headed towards the biggest double doors I have ever laid eyes on. These were grander than anything we had in government. A small golden plaque beside the door pull—what, no bell—read ‘Chateau d’Heisen’. The corners of my lips turned down as I basked in the allure of French cursive on shiny metal.
Before I knocked, a small man opened one of the doors though how he managed without two elephants to help him I’ll never know. “Are you invited?” he asked in a tinny and far from appealing voice.
“For what?”
“Party personnel use the rear entrance.” He was about to close the door on me.
“Hold on, sir. I am here on official government business. My name is Helidon and I am Reincarnator in service to His Majesty the—”
“Well,” he sang and stretched the syllables in that irritating high voice. “Why didn’t you say so before? Come come come come come come come.” I practically jitterbugged my way past the threshold, he sounded like a squeaky toy sergeant. “You were expected yesterday, sir, if it’s alright of me to mention.”
“Yeah, there was some trouble with the paperwork.”
“We figured, after we heard His Majesty berate his courtiers.” He winked and I blushed. Death’s voice carried when he wanted it to. Why would he do something so boisterous? Well, he didn’t give a damn about anything. He did as he pleased and this is what came of it, a shamefaced courtier having to relive the dreadful memory.
“Are you the master of the house?”
“Firstly, Mr. Reincarnator, this is a chateau. You must get the words right, sir, if it’s alright of me to mention. Secondly, no I’m just the batler.”
“Batler? You mean butler?”
“No, sir, I mean batler, as in backup-butler, seeing as how the butler is taken ill and recuperating in his basement quarters. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier, my name is Jacoby Lechouche but you can call me Jacob.”
“Ah,” I said and relaxed my forehead before he noticed my confusion.
I walked along a path lined with gold, silver, crystal, posh protraits and weird splotchy paintings. The same yellow light that I had seen outside was in here as well, warm, pristine like butter melting on fresh baked bread. I was so distracted with such enviable possessions that I bumped into Jacob when he stopped before another pair of huge double doors. Once again, this little man pushed them open with the ease of a child rolling his pencil forward and back. The doors opened and a whoosh of sound, light, sights and smells ripped their way into my senses and became one gigantic blur until my mind worked to separate segments and make sense of them individually.
It was a ballroom of grand standards. A long sloping mahogany feature grew out the west wall and on strange protruding alcoves sat musicians playing with passion and adding flair to the singer up front. She had a specially ornamented curvy seat that came out past the tip of the whole setup and loomed over the floor more than fifteen feet below. The band played the most beautiful music and the woman sang in the most amazing French that I recognized but didn’t understand. I’m certain than more than eight hundred people, give or take, were in the hall, waltzing, laughing, drinking and eating from a feast table that stretched the entire length of the ballroom, some two-hundred-something meters. Pies, chocolate fountains, multi-layered cakes, roast dishes and gravied ones of beef, pork, lamb, fowl and mutton, alongside giant burgers, lasagna, and spaghetti. Fish, shrimp, shark and all manner of seafood, including wonderful arrays of caviar. Ice cream, honey, fruits, and glazed candies, and tiramisu and confectionery to make a sweetaholic drool. Foods of all shapes, sizes, flavors and delicasies were spread for all to eat, an irresistible buffet of culinary miracles. There was so much food I though all that humanity had ever created in kitchens since the beginning of time was in this room.
Scents mingled and danced, merged and multiplied until they became heavenly in the strictest sense of the word. Everyone was dressed in gowns and suits that breathed life into a time that had long since come and gone. Diamonds, gold, silver and platinum looked like lattice framework on the bodies of some of the most sensual women and refined men, all of them beautiful beyond imagining. Silk curtains, heavily embroidered like something from the time of the Czars, fell from ceiling to floor. The domed ceiling was perfection, with art of dark and sinister taste along the inner face. A magnificent chandelier hung down a few meters from the apex. There was nothing to hold it up. It floated there, I could see that it did, and turned slowly on an invisible axis. Thousands of tiny branches grew from its bulbous jeweled body and covered the span of the ceiling every which way. Light poured down like a gentle sun and mirrors reflected the sight of such atrocious grandeur. I felt like falling to my knees. I stared open mouthed until Jacob came to collect me and beckoned that I follow. He gave me a wry expression as he cooed, “Come come come come come come come.”
I got up and followed but only half-heartedly. I couldn’t pry my gaze from the surroundings and the riches it bestowed on my i
magination. It was hard to keep up with the diminutive batler in this sea of perfect beings but I used his bobbing head as a compass. He led me to the very end of the room. It was a long distance, made even more so by the constant stopping to sidestep guests. I got lost a few times and didn’t want to be found but the batler fished me out of the throng of revelers. He held me rudely by my pant waist and pulled me to his position.
I turned round and saw a long table tracing the breadth of the room. Behind it were tall chairs of expensive padding and sculpted wood. In each sat a being just as beautiful as the ones in this room. But right in the middle on a platform raised slightly higher than what the other nobles occupied, sat a man and woman who, if I can say so, looked superhuman. Clad in a metallic-silver suit with a deeper hued vest, shirt as white as virgin doves and a tie as red as fresh spilt blood, the man looked dressed for power. He had gold and diamond ornamentations that stood out simply because they blended in. This was how power should look. This was the suit of a courtier but alas we weren’t that priviliged let alone born with a well honed physique like his. His eyes were greener than the sea and his skin paler than snow. The sight of him both attracted and repulsed me. I wanted to be this man but that was only possible in dreams.
The woman beside him was dressed in a gown whose red was the very epitome of the color it represented. She was an affair of feathers and silken dew as diamonds and starlight glittered on her person even as she sat. Her every move was beauty and her body and face were unmatched; I had never beheld a woman with such jaw-dropping good looks. She could even rival Lady Life. Not only was she desirable to me she was also untouchable, for whom but a god can lay a finger on such perfection and live to praise it. I am no god. She and the man beside her both smelled supreme. I knew it was their scent and noone else’s because, just like them, the way they smelled made its way into my senses with an ease even the finest daggers couldn’t match when they sliced tender flesh.
“Friends, invitees and fellow well-wishers,” said the batler. I was stupefied at how his voice carried across the immense ballroom and brought a halt to all the music, dancing and joyful camaraderie. In less than a few seconds, nearly a thousand pairs of eyes were riveted up front. “Let us cordially welcome Courtier Helidon, Reincarnator appointed by the King.”
Everyone bowed and I felt so under-dressed; under-everything. They moved together like a marching band. They straightened, placed their right hands on their hearts and said, “Long live His Majesty the King.” Their hands next formed fists. “Long Live Death.” I found it extraordinary that they would wish long life on an entity who was not only immortal but also the antecedent of the very thing they wished upon him.
“Reincarnator Helidon of His Majesty’s court, may I present Baron Von Heisen.” The effervescent man gave me a bow. I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t taught how to properly greet a Baron, and so I bowed back. It was something I hadn’t done to anyone but the King so it felt weird and elating at the same time. He smiled and it was like the sun itself shone upon me. “Reincarnator Helidon of His Majesty’s court, may I present Baroness Von Heisen.” The woman gave me a curtsey so bewitching that I curtsied back. The whole ballroom laughed and I went red from head to toe. The woman smiled at me and I felt like the moon itself had gracd me with a blessing.
“Reincarnator Helidon of His Majesty’s court,” they began in unison. They sounded flawless, in ideal harmony, almost as good as a song composed to inspire the heart. “Welcome to Chateau D’Heisen.” Everyone in the ballroom including the Baron and Baroness bowed and curtsied. I just stood and gave a shy wave. “Please make yourself at home.” The music began, the dancing picked up and people went back to doing what they were doing. The Baron and Baroness took their seats and threw me curious glances.
Jacob told me, “I’ll have your room ready in time for when I come collect you after the festivities, sir.” He left me alone and I soon lost sight of his bobbing head. Young men and women beckoned me over to a place at the table and with a covert toast to the Baron and Baroness I began my evening with a sip of red Karal. I ate as much as I could from as many dishes as I could. I felt as though I’d caged a world’s worth of sensations inside my mouth and they, unafraid of their imprisonment, caressed my taste buds with hot, cold, mild, sensual, silken, rough, and sometimes strange tangibilities.
Hours later when Jacob the batler came to get me, I followed the man out the way we’d come. People were still at it, still having fun. I couldn’t take it any more. I had barely tasted everything and already my belly was full of delicious memories. I had drunk a lot and though I had the buzz to prove it I wasn’t nauseous in the least. I can honestly say that never in all my life, in all my lifetimes even, had I ever experienced a better time than I did in those few hours at Chateau D’Heisen.
I headed upstairs. More than six flights later, I could still see clearly. Jacob had gone on ahead. Perhaps the only side effect of all my feasting and drinking was that my body had become a bit slow. Jacob waited to usher me into my room and I marveled at the plush affair. The furniture was classy, the decor tasteful and the bed was immense and topped with colorful cushions. I was yet to see the view, if there was one, and the washroom that I knew would be just as posh. For the next few minutes, however, I fell back onto the softest pillows ever, and closed my eyes. I heard the beginnings of rain again, the pitter-patter on the window, the grumble of thunder.
“Jacob, why am I here?”
“As Reincarnator, you are entitled to the good accomodations and entertainment along with the family, sir.”
“I’m sorry. What I meant to ask was what is this place? Who are these people? How come I’ve never heard of the Baron and Baroness before?”
“It’s alright sir. May I?” he held his hands before him like a poor excuse for a rabbit. I stood and he helped me out of my coat. He brushed it down and put a hangar in it. “Death respects nobility in all life-systems, sir. The Von Heisen family, I’m sure you’re aware that they had all taken their lives, in a manner of speaking.” I was a bit too buzzed to rest on the specifics of what he said but I filed it away in my memory. “They had signed an unbreakable contract with a syndicate of warlocks—I am referring to an organization in the human world, of course—and when they couldn’t pay the debt the warlocks came to collect. It was a mass blood sacrifice and since the Von Heisens willingly chose to have their lives taken it was construed as suicide in the technical sense of the word. The warlocks got their many pounds of flesh, the Von Heisens came to this afterlife region, namely Quadrant City.” He made an expansive gesture. “The baron and baroness come from a long line of vampiric nobility. They’re a class unto themselves, sir.”
“Vampires?” I gasped. “You’re not joking?”
“No, sir, I’m not. They’re vampires, one family among many on Earth. You’ll never have heard of them. You see, vampires take privacy to a whole new level. You won’t know they exist unless they want you to and they have the resources to stay hidden. Lifetimes of accrued wealth affords one the power to choose their destiny.” He sounded proud. “Unlike me and Jamieson, my older brother who is the butler taken ill. He and I swore to follow them many centuries ago. Where nobility goes their butlers follow.”
“My my,” I said and my hand automatically went to my chest. “All those people are family?”
“Throw in acquaintances, business partners, contract co-signees, hapless converts, friends and some others and yes you could technically call them a family.”
“But I was sent here to get started on a preliminary report for human suicides. What good will, you know,” I fiddled as I waited.
“Sir,” said Jacob as he moved closer to help me change. “The rest of the world who isn’t them call them vampires, among other ill-suited names. To them, however, they’re merely a different kind of human and as such are subject to different kinds of laws. Doesn’t mean we should treat them like beasts, sir, if it’s alright of me to mention.”
“I unders
tand.” I got into bed. “And who is that?” I pointed to the painting of a most interesting man, no older than forty, whose cold eyes stood at odds with an image of excellence and noble upbringing.
“Ah, that would be Baron Von Heisein’s younger brother once removed, Count Vlad Dracula. He is estranged from the family. We don’t know what became of him; he and his eccentric ideas. He used to sleep in this very bed. I’ll say good night, sir.”
Jacob turned the light off. I saw the dim glow of the door open and close.
This would be my second night without an ounce of sleep.
6
I heard soft footsteps on the landing at dawn. Batler Jacob had come to wake me. As soon as he opened the door he went “Rise and shine. Time to greet a new day. Come come come come come come come.” I moved in tune with his alarm, slipped out of bed and headed to the restroom in one stretch. I wasn’t drowsy, far from it, but I wanted to give him the impression that I’d slept well even after knowing these were the same sheets and pillows that a bloodthirsty count had curled up in.
The bathroom was bloody brilliant. It was redder than the inside of a heart and lit to highlight a gorgeous granite tub, filigreed mirrors, silver windows and wash basins, and a commode made from the finest ceramic. I felt disheartened that I didn’t use the facilities last night. Now I’ll get only the one chance, so I took a whole hour to brush, bathe, shave and then soak in the tub. I came out feeling like a million dollars.
Long Live Death: Welcome To The Afterlife Page 4