Vampire: Stories of days past 3

Jake sat silent for a moment, trying to get his head around what he just heard. “So let me get this straight. You are over two millennia old. And lost your eye in a fight with your brother… over a slave?” Marius shrugged “Well, that’s the basic of it. More or less.” Shaking his head Jake tried to figure out if his host was lying or just plainly insane. “And I thought I was the only one who bumped his head.” He shifted his weight to the left and felt a pain shoot through his side. “It appears you might have broken a rib as well, want me to take a look?” Jake took a few shallow breaths, pushing the pain away before he nodded. “Well if you want me, you should apologies first.” Marius sat with his arms crossed next to the bed, a slight grin on his lips. “You want me to… what?” Jake’s words where followed by a grunt. “I. Want you. To say you’re sorry for doubting my story.” The young man pulled a face as if he felt insulted. “Dude, for real. I’m in serious pain over here!” Marius shortly chuckled “And I can maybe ease it. I also can just go out and get a quick bite to eat.” Catching his last words he let out a short chuckle again “Your choice.” Jake felt another flash of pain shooting through is side, this time without him putting weight on it. “Sure, whatever you want! Just as long you can make this go away.” Marius still sat with his arms crossed, not moving a muscle. “So?” Jake gave a deep sigh “I’m sorry for doubting you.” A smile made it’s over Marius’s lips “That wasn’t so hard to do, was it?” He moved over to Jake and pulled his shirt up, exposing a big bruise. Jake felt the cold fingers explore the spot, softly increasing pressure here and there. Although the pain caused by the examination, he felt a strange enjoyment out of it. Having Marius up close touching his skin, a sigh escaped him before he could suppress it. “Between pain and pleasure is a thin line, I know.” Marius’s lips where curled in an enthralling smile.

“MARIUS!! Where are you?” The lady stood waiting in the middle of the room, the back of her elaborate dress still unbuttoned. Chandeliers lightened parts of the dark room, casting distorted shades on floor and walls. “MARIUS!! God damned cyclops, we don’t have all night.” Her face and neck where powdered with chalk, a charcoal fake mole decorating her right cheek. “MARIUS!!!” Her voice echoed throughout the mansion, shortly blocking out the violin music from the ballroom. From down the hall quick steps got louder as they sped close. “Sorry my lady, His Grace had me do some last preparations.” A stern look betrayed the annoyed mood Lady Verona was in “If you are making up excuses, leave my husband out of it…” With a short angry snort she unfolded her fan “… be grateful we haven’t thrown your sorry behind out yet. Telling lies about your superiors. Wouldn’t surprise me if you stole from us as well.” Fiercely fanning her face she turned around “Well??? What are you waiting for? This dress isn’t buttoning itself” Marius hastily stepped closer and started to push and pull the fabric around lumps of flesh and skin. With every inch he buttend up her bosom seemed to be increase, restraining any excess in the right spot. After a few moments Marius stepped back, looking at his Mistress. “Well? How do I look?” Her mood had turned like a leaf on a tree. “You look radiant like always.” Lady Verona gave a slight smile at the youth “At least these little lies a lady can’t mind” Elegantly she made her way out of the room “Let’s not keep my husband waiting, shall we?”

The big door opened as music and the chatter of people poured out. Marius quickly stepped aside, letting his mistress and her husband pass. The post tapped his staff a few times then loudly announced their presence “HIS HIGHNESS, PRINCE DORIAN OF VERONA, ACCOMPANYED BY HIS WIVE, LADY ELISABETH VERONA” All chatter silenced as the string quartet replaced their light music with the royal anthem. Holding hands in an elegant way, lord and lady Verona descended onto the polished floor, nodding politely at their bowing guests. Glimpsing quickly inside Marius saw a few new faces, but most he recognized from earlier parties. All were dressed in a Victorian style, but him being the only one actually having lived thought the era shake his head at the farce displayed. He silently closed the door, and then made haste to the kitchen. A kitchen boy was struggling finding room for a goose in the overflowing oven, was stirring in a large pot. “DON’T YOU DARE RUINING PHEASENT?” A giant of a man came out of the corner close to Marius, pointing a dripping ladle at the boy manhandling the bird. “But sir, it’s a goose…“ the boy tenderly spoke his words “… I chopped of its head this morning. And there is no room for…” The cook slapped him sternly with the ladle, leaving a red splurge behind. “If I say its pheasant, it’s a bloody Pheasant. God knows that bunch of asses out there can’t tell them apart.” Turning his gaze at the oven, he had to bend at the waist to have a good view. With a bare hand he pushed some of the pastries aside, then in one motion grasping the limp bird from the lad’s hold and cramming it in. “See? Room to spare, now get your but over there and start chopping those vegetables.” With a loud sigh Bertrand sat down on a chair “I’m getting to old for this crap” he picked up a bottle of wine from the counter and took a big swig. “… each season we lose more and more of our staff. Ran away my ass, we all know what happens…” He eyed Marius for a moment, then offered him the bottle “And now I’m stuck with these two daft boys, almost so incompetent I’m afraid they will chop off their own hands.” Marius petted the man on his shoulder, while taking the bottle and putting it back on the counter. “It’s too early for wine, also I don’t think his Grace likes you drinking his fine stock” Bertrand spit on the ground “Fine stock? This goat’s piss barely counts as wine.” With a grunt the giant came on his feet, eying both lads who silently did their chores. Another grunt was given as Bertrand walked over to the stove “God be damned if his Graze thinks I’m going to wait till my number is up.” With those words he started frying little morsels of meat in a thick greasy paste.

Lady Verona looked upon the scene in front of her. Across the ballroom people where in groups varying from two to five, crawling over one and other. To her left she saw a woman kneading her breasts, as a man was pounding his flesh between her spread legs. At her right she could see an older woman with a young man’s face buried under her dress. Another was standing at her shoulder, feeding her his pole.