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† OUT OF THE CITY † / Re: Reconnection
« on: December 11, 2020, 10:19:41 PM »
Kerr could only blink dazedly as Ben followed up his initial assessment with valuable information that Kerr would never have thought of. It all made perfect sense once Ben said it, of course, but even then, Kerr had no clue how to go about locating everything. "Good idea," he murmured as Ben set off to look for the phone line and power box. Clearly, they were going to stick around and deal with any issues that arose; Kerr forced himself to get comfortable with that fact as he followed after Ben. They were going in, not leaving. Okay.
He did his best to concentrate on what his lover was doing but he did a poor job of it. He was distracted by the exaggerated presence of the manor, finding himself standing stock still and gazing up at its corner towers like they held sacred messages to whisper to him (if only he could listen hard enough) more than once. Either Ben's voice hissing his name or an animal snapping a twig or rustling in nearby shrubbery would snap him out of it and then he'd hasten to where Ben was with renewed intent to focus.
It never lasted long. The memories of the house were more potent now that it had been restored. The new fittings and furnishings aside, the resurrected walls brought with them renewed feelings of oppression and fear.
When they finally got inside, the plush interior was overlaid with the spartan features of centuries-past in Kerr's eyes. He could remember walking upon these cold stone floors, hearing the thud of his own heartbeat echoing in his ears and off these brick walls. Well... not these exactly... telling himself that didn't make much difference, though. It wasn't different enough to bring any sense of comfort. These walls were just the same level of impartial and unbreakable as they had been when he'd been brought here as a mortal. They might as well have been the very ones to witness his death and rebirth.
"It happened here," Kerr said quietly, standing in the entryway with Ben by his side. "Sawyl had brought me here, for help, he said. But once I got inside he attacked me. I fell... " Kerr trailed off, staring down at the opulent floor runner that currently led away from the front door but seeing only the stones beneath. Had they been just stones or had there been a rug? He couldn't remember. It had all happened in a flash and afterwards... he didn't get out of the cellar often enough to recall.
He wished he could be calmer. He wished four hundred years was long enough to forget but it wasn't. He reached for Ben's hand and, in doing so, shared the memories replaying relentlessly in his head. It had been dark inside that night. Two vampires hadn't needed torches. The only light came from the open doorway at his back and Sawyl was a tiny missile shooting out of the darkness to his right, latching onto that side of his neck in starved fervour. The pain in his neck flared, the dimly-lit space around him spun and his heart threatened to choke him as he toppled.
As he fell, he saw the demon's face, looming in from the sitting room to the left, watching with glinting eyes. Angus was a hideous creature, as ugly as Wyl was beautiful. He had a pointed face, bat-like ears, beady black eyes and hairs sprouting all over the place - particularly from those huge ears. His lips were practically non-existent so his sharp, pointed teeth were clearly visible as he leered at Sawyl's actions with delight.
Kerr's memory went black because the dizzying vision of the older vampire and the shock of being attacked by a child that had twice his strength had overcome him and he'd passed out. When he awoke, he was latched onto Sawyl's wrist, drinking his blood like a crazed animal. Angus was staring at him, his elongated, gnarled fingers templed beneath his pointed chin as if he were observing a bug dying. The scene went black again, as Kerr had lost consciousness temporarily - though he must have kept drinking, somehow - and when next he awoke he was in agony as his body died during the transformation.
Once he watched it through three times, Kerr stopped the memory replay and forced himself to stay in the present, holding tightly onto Ben's hand and looking around himself unseeingly. "I still don't like being here," he announced needlessly, his rigid posture and clenched jaw telling that story on his behalf already. "All I really remember is the horror I felt at the brutality of being attacked, of having so much forced onto me against my will. This is where my nightmare began, though most of it happened in the cellar, after."
Kerr looked down, hoping Ben would tell him he'd heard and seen enough, that they could go, chalking this up to another one of Kerr's distant memories. He stared hard at the ground, willing his weakness to be over, already.
He did his best to concentrate on what his lover was doing but he did a poor job of it. He was distracted by the exaggerated presence of the manor, finding himself standing stock still and gazing up at its corner towers like they held sacred messages to whisper to him (if only he could listen hard enough) more than once. Either Ben's voice hissing his name or an animal snapping a twig or rustling in nearby shrubbery would snap him out of it and then he'd hasten to where Ben was with renewed intent to focus.
It never lasted long. The memories of the house were more potent now that it had been restored. The new fittings and furnishings aside, the resurrected walls brought with them renewed feelings of oppression and fear.
When they finally got inside, the plush interior was overlaid with the spartan features of centuries-past in Kerr's eyes. He could remember walking upon these cold stone floors, hearing the thud of his own heartbeat echoing in his ears and off these brick walls. Well... not these exactly... telling himself that didn't make much difference, though. It wasn't different enough to bring any sense of comfort. These walls were just the same level of impartial and unbreakable as they had been when he'd been brought here as a mortal. They might as well have been the very ones to witness his death and rebirth.
"It happened here," Kerr said quietly, standing in the entryway with Ben by his side. "Sawyl had brought me here, for help, he said. But once I got inside he attacked me. I fell... " Kerr trailed off, staring down at the opulent floor runner that currently led away from the front door but seeing only the stones beneath. Had they been just stones or had there been a rug? He couldn't remember. It had all happened in a flash and afterwards... he didn't get out of the cellar often enough to recall.
He wished he could be calmer. He wished four hundred years was long enough to forget but it wasn't. He reached for Ben's hand and, in doing so, shared the memories replaying relentlessly in his head. It had been dark inside that night. Two vampires hadn't needed torches. The only light came from the open doorway at his back and Sawyl was a tiny missile shooting out of the darkness to his right, latching onto that side of his neck in starved fervour. The pain in his neck flared, the dimly-lit space around him spun and his heart threatened to choke him as he toppled.
As he fell, he saw the demon's face, looming in from the sitting room to the left, watching with glinting eyes. Angus was a hideous creature, as ugly as Wyl was beautiful. He had a pointed face, bat-like ears, beady black eyes and hairs sprouting all over the place - particularly from those huge ears. His lips were practically non-existent so his sharp, pointed teeth were clearly visible as he leered at Sawyl's actions with delight.
Kerr's memory went black because the dizzying vision of the older vampire and the shock of being attacked by a child that had twice his strength had overcome him and he'd passed out. When he awoke, he was latched onto Sawyl's wrist, drinking his blood like a crazed animal. Angus was staring at him, his elongated, gnarled fingers templed beneath his pointed chin as if he were observing a bug dying. The scene went black again, as Kerr had lost consciousness temporarily - though he must have kept drinking, somehow - and when next he awoke he was in agony as his body died during the transformation.
Once he watched it through three times, Kerr stopped the memory replay and forced himself to stay in the present, holding tightly onto Ben's hand and looking around himself unseeingly. "I still don't like being here," he announced needlessly, his rigid posture and clenched jaw telling that story on his behalf already. "All I really remember is the horror I felt at the brutality of being attacked, of having so much forced onto me against my will. This is where my nightmare began, though most of it happened in the cellar, after."
Kerr looked down, hoping Ben would tell him he'd heard and seen enough, that they could go, chalking this up to another one of Kerr's distant memories. He stared hard at the ground, willing his weakness to be over, already.