Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series) (25 page)

BOOK: Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series)
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“I've come for the master of the house.” Del spoke up.

“Who may I ask is calling?” The butler asked Del.

“Del Marin.” Del smiled. He was confident, having all the time of the walk to build his nerve to this moment.

“Wait here, outside. He will be with you soon.” The butler closed the door.

Del waited and stood diligent for almost an hour. To him, the time was nothing. It passed much quicker than the trip there. The lights in the house were fully lit by the minute the butler reopened the front door to face Del with a reply.

“The master is not available.” The butler said with pomp and disdain towards Del.

Del Said nothing.

“Didn't you hear me? I said the master is not available. You can go home.” The butler instructed Del.

“Yes, I heard you clearly.” Del responded.

“Then please leave. You can no longer carry on your endeavor here.” The butler said while attempting to close the door.

The door stopped abruptly on Del's right foot. Del said nothing to the pain it caused. The sound of crunching flesh and bone rang into the open silence of the moment. Del wouldn't admit it, but the door had broken two of his toes.

“No thank you. I'll wait.” Del smiled, masking the swelling in his right foot.

“I'm sorry you were unable to understand what I was trying to tell you with your underdeveloped farm-boy mind. The master is not home. Come back tomorrow.” The butler was being blatantly rude.

“No. You said that he was not available.” Del took a deep breath and continued. “If he is unavailable at this time, and you had to confer with him for an hour to determine this, than he is obviously on the premises. Therefore, he is home.” Del stared into the eyes of the now irate butler. “And therefore I will wait for him to become available.”

The angered butler gave no reply. He simply peered down to refer to Del's foot blocking the doorway.

Del removed his broken foot. A small streak of blood trailed under Del's sock.

“The master will be out shortly.” The butler slammed the door, rattling the red wood frame.

Roughly three minutes later, a short, stout man in a light tan cotton suit appeared before Del. He was in his later fifties, with a brown and gray beard. He stood just under five foot seven. He wore a mid length brimmed straw hat. His brown eyes had the same flare as Del's. The man's skin was partially tanned from his forearms down. His sleeves were rolled high on each arm. His hands were old, wrinkled, and worn.

The unknown man had been a laborer when he was younger, Del was sure of that.

The stranger looked Del up and down. The man smiled and spoke to Del. “Well, boy. You have some damn fine nerve coming here like you did.” The man's voice was rough and crackling. “I assume from what you said to my butler, you aim to talk to me about something rather important. What might that be?”

Del took to his feet and faced the unknown man. “Are you the master of this house? Are you Mr. McHugh?”

“Yes. That is the name my mother gave me. Now what business do you have here with me at such a late hour?” Mr. McHugh asked Del.

“Sir, my name is Del Marin.” Del was interrupted.

“Marin? Is that French?” Mr. McHugh commented.

Del's train of thought was temporarily broken. “Yes, sir. It is. Now it's mine.” The pain in Del's toe began to ache. His resolve returned. “Sir. I've come to declare my intentions for your daughter.”

Mr. McHugh raised his left eyebrow. “And what intentions are those?”

“I've come to ask you for her hand in marriage. Then you and her directly.” Del rushed through the words so quickly that Mr. McHugh had trouble hearing them.

“What was that?” Mr. McHugh asked Del.

Del took a deep breath. He repeated himself, slowly and with diction.

Mr. McHugh understood every word. He took another look at Del. “Nope.”

“What?” Del was confused.

“I mean, no. Son, you have to understand, Demy has more than a dozen suitors that all come from good families. How can I give her to you when you can't prove you'll be able to provide for her?” Mr. McHugh had a fine point.

Del realized the flaw he needed to find a solution immediately. “What are they?”

“Who are you talking about son?” Mr. McHugh asked Del.

“The other suitors. What are they?” Del asked with enthusiasm.

Mr. McHugh scratched his chin through his beard. “Well, I suppose there's a doctor, a musician, and a lawyer after her. The rest are just from upstanding families.”

“And would you rather pick one of them over the others? Would a suitor with one of those professions meet your personal requirements to be her husband?” Del was building his case.

“Yes, I suppose you're right. Where are you going with this?” Mr. McHugh sighed. “You aren't thinking about doing something crazy, are you son?”

Del begged him with all his heart. “Mr. McHugh, I truly care for your Demy. I also want to make this right in your eyes. What can I do to prove my intentions are best for your daughter?” Del spoke with sincerity.

Mr. McHugh was blunt. “I will not have a dirty young man marry my daughter. And there is no amount of money someone in your line of work can make to ever make me condone what you have planned for her.”

“Then I will make it right sir. I will become what you require of me. For Demy's sake and for yours.” Del waited for Mr. McHugh's reply.

“You are not what I had ever expected to come into Demy's life. Let alone the man who would be the father of my only grandchild.” Mr. McHugh lowered his head and sighed. “However, I am not a cruel man. Change your profession, make yourself into something you and I can be proud of. Only then will you have my blessing.” Mr. McHugh reached into his jacket pocket for a cigar. He placed it in his mouth and struck a match to light it.

“What do you want me to be?” Del was pure and put himself in Mr. McHugh’s place. He wanted nothing more than to do the right thing by Mr. McHugh.

“Go to school boy. Become a lawyer or a doctor. Do something to make people happy and right the wrongs of this world.” Mr. McHugh had no idea the power and precedence he set when speaking those words to Del.

Six months transpired. Del had gone to law school. He was in his second semester of college on his way to a full law degree in Richmond, Virginia. Demy felt full of pride for her soon to be husband. She was a good twenty six weeks pregnant and very happy. Mr. McHugh was happy. Del was following the advice he was given. It was not his preference to become a lawyer at all. He was merely completing another task at hand. He needed to be something he was not in order to marry the woman he cared for. College was only a stepping stone to achieve that goal. Del did not find difficulty in the material, he simply absorbed it and learned as he went. Del's vocabulary increased, he became a scholar in the eyes of his professors. Demy and Mr. McHugh were beginning to notice that Del was no longer a simple farm hand. He had become a man of education. Until one night, when Del's morality shaped the events of his destiny.

Each day after Del's classes, he studied and reviewed what the teachers taught. Through self-review, he had managed to swing perfect grades. His methods were not so much thought out as they were methodical. Del simply kept at it. Earning him a high place in his soon to be profession. Day to day, nothing much changed until one night in the middle of winter. Del was walking home from the Richmond campus just after eight o’clock at night. The sun had been down under the horizon for hours. The last study group had let out more than ten minutes before he had packed up. On his way out from the campus, there was a quiet, but definite scream. Del was one of the few people around to hear it. The sound was of a woman being attacked between two of the outer buildings.

The smell was disturbing. Del ran to help. He reached the woman as a tall dark figure dropped her to the floor. The woman's body sloshed on the ground, covered in visceral blood. Her throat had been torn apart. The little moonlight from the clear sky opened Del's eyes to the shadowy horror of this dying woman in front of him. It was dark, he couldn’t see who or what this other person was. Del was able to make out one distinguishing factor, white silver hair. It was somewhat short and hung straight down, splattered with dripping blood.

Del had intended on saving the screaming woman. The pile of flesh on the floor was no longer alive. It bubbled as the last remaining remnants of air escaped from the woman's lung. A gurgling sound spit blood onto his shoes. The woman was dead and now he was soon to be the next victim. Del looked for a knife, something shinny that the killer might have. To Del's confusion, there was nothing.

The shadows cloaked a fine line inches beyond the dead woman's body. Barely any light illuminated either Del or the unknown figure. Somehow the figure moved as if it knew what Del was about to do. With each movement Del made to advance, the stranger copied. Del slowly shifted towards the fallen woman. He felt watched as he made his way into the moonlight.

Before Del could reach the girl, the unknown presence moved. Del intended on taking the girl to at least be identified. This would make him a small time local hero in the town’s eyes. He felt that no one should die without a name. Having her family identify the body would be the least he could do. Del wanted dearly to fulfill Mr. McHugh’s second condition, the request of righting the wrongs in the world and making people genuinely happy. He considered this one act in accordance with those wishes.

The figure pinned Del to the wall with exacting force. Dust plumed off the well built structure. The sound was painful, the feeling was unreal. A thin delicate hand held him against the concrete wall. The light shown up to a black cloak the unknown person was wearing. Shielding the remaining body from the elbow. Its sharp fingertips were cutting into Del's chest. Blood was dotting his white shirt. Del watched as a pair of red eyes glowed from the blackness. It was terrifying. Del was a strong man, fit and toned well enough to defend himself in an average fight. This was no fight. There was no contest here. This person held him with one hand outstretched, with little effort. Del weighed over two hundred pounds, he was not easily lifted. The stranger managed to pin him solidly without any continued exertion. It was impossible. As inhuman as it was, it was happening.

Del fought to gain a forward foot hold on his attacker. Pushing against the wall for leverage. The stranger didn't budge. They only kept an unrelenting pressure on Del's chest that seemed to be slowly increasing.

“I need to save her.” Del was able to whisper to the dark shadow as it crushed him further.

A hissing voice spoke, slightly feminine, yet with a deep presence to it. “That woman is dead, you have nothing left to save.”

Del’s lungs were being deflated. The figure was slowly killing him, not waiting for a response.

Del mouthed two words, ‘Her dignity.’

The stranger dropped Del instantly to the ground. Del coughed as the figure stood over him. Del spit up a hand full of blood and cleared his throat.

The voice, now softer than before, spoke again to Del. “You would carry her back? To her town, to the rest of them? To preserve her dignity?”

Del nodded.

The shadow let out an eerie laugh, shouting out into the heavens with an unreal tone.

Del grasped his chest as he pulled himself over to the mangled girl. He checked for signs of life. There was nothing. There was only a corpse, nothing more. Del's hands were covered in the victim's blood.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” The shadowy stranger laughed again. The same infernal feminine howl escaped its mouth. “You have a death wish to play with my first meal of the night. Is it really worth it?”

Del nodded again. There was a pain growing in his chest, something was filling his lungs. Del had trouble breathing. He clasped his neck. Blood from Del's hands soaked the front of the white shirt he was wearing.

“You are diligent. I’ll give you that. Stupid, but diligent.” The stranger held still in the dark, just beyond the reach of the light, the same red eyes glaring.

Suddenly, the figure rushed at Del and threw him against the wall again. Its pale white hand gripped the lower portion of his rib cage. Its fingers had pierced his skin, blood flowed down Del's stomach. Spilling over his belt and pants to the ground.

The stranger taunted Del. “Do you want to die boy?” The figure leaned into Del positioning itself inches from his face. It came into the light willingly. This was no man, it was a young woman with silvery white hair. She was thin and small, nearly five foot three at best. The girl had porcelain skin, flawless to Del's sight. Her chin was small, her jaw pointed to an angle. She had a large effeminate forehead that dwarfed her cheek bones. She was petite and gorgeous. The only part of her face that was difficult to understand was her eyes. They were a translucent red. There was a small pin of a black center, the rest was a thin veil of red that Del could see through. Her eyes seemed to shine in the moonlight. Her hair shielded part of her face. The white strands overlaid with blood splatters. Del peered into the darkness of her eyes and saw nothingness.

Catching his breath, gasping to inhale, Del answered. “I will do what I need to.” Blood poured down Del's lips. It flowed down his chest, painting a red streak.

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