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Authors: Josh Savill

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BOOK: The Feeding House
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“Yes sir.” The young harvester smiled and began pulling the preachers body inside, blood may not be drawn from him until he is conscious again but for now the fact that he wasn’t struggling and resisting meant that it made it much easier to plug him up to the feeding machines in the cellar.

Jack walked through the dark hallways of the house. Expensive art hung on every wall and everything had an air of aristocracy to it, mainly because that’s what many of the vampires had been. They were once high up in various aristocracy’s around the world until people started to catch on and want them out. A great many of the vampires in this particular house were ex French aristocrats forced to flee after the people realised just who they were and what they actually were.

They had all by now learnt English and not to mention many other languages from around the world
. It had been noted over the past few years that a few of the younger vampires in the feeding houses of America had started to pick up a slight American twang. The vampire Jack was on his way to see however was not one of the younger ones. He was in fact the oldest, celebrating his 675
th
birthday that year. He was the Chancellor of the feeding house.

Each feeding house had a C
hancellor elected on age and expertise. Vampires could go between whichever feeding house they chose just as long as they didn’t feed on any living human during the journey. In reality this meant that vampires never travelled far from their original feeding house. Each feeding house also was in charge of its own personal harvesters and how many they had, 3 in the case of the Oxford, Mississippi feeding house. These houses were worldwide, one or two for every city and a few small countryside based houses.

Jack walked up a small flight of stairs and opened
a grand wooden door at the top. Inside it was set out much like a gentleman’s lounge with the heads of animals looking solemnly down at him. A large wooden desk stood off to the side and in the centre of the sat two chairs of fine craftsmanship each covered with a beautiful red fabric. The chancellor sat in one of the two chairs, smoking a pipe. The heavy smoky fragrance wafted into Jack’s face as soon as he opened the door.

“You wanted to see m
e when I got back chancellor,” said Jack as he walked into the room. The man in the chair was small and old with a receding hair line. Vampires, although immortal, retain the same looks they had the day they were turned. It was rumoured that the chancellor paid a vampire a lot of money to turn him on his death bed once he had given up on all other means of stopping the human ageing process. 

The chancellor looked
up from the glass of brandy he held in his hand. Obviously he had already known that jack was there at least a few moments before he knocked on the door. He could smell the human blood in him but he humoured him with a surprised expression “Ah Jack it is good to see you. I trust everything went well with your hunt.”

“Everything went off without a hitch just like normal
. Preparations are being made for tonight’s feast,” By tonight Jack meant of course day but since vampires much preferred the dark the day was opposite a common misconception was that all vampires burn in the sun light, when it is in fact only a malnourished vampire that will burn and die, but that’s not to say that they don’t like the sun light at all.

The chancellor managed to give Jack a small unemotional smile
“Perfect, you have always done such excellent work for me Jack and that is why I have chosen you too carry out this very important task for me. I promise you it will be worth your while. The rewards will be great.”

“Whatever
you need I will get it done, it’s the whole reason why I’m here,” Jack was never one for mincing his words or “fancying them up” as he would say for anyone, not even his superiors. Luckily this hardnosed attitude was something that the chancellor seemed to enjoy and appreciate, the chancellor referred to it as having spunk.

“Good…good,” said the chancellor
“we have a very important vampire coming to visit us here at our humble feeding house he shall be here within the next few days. His name is Gabriel Dreno and as I am sure I do not need to explain he is the High Chancellor.” This was very rare and important news and took Jack by surprise it was not often that the High Chancellor himself ever made visits to feeding houses especially smaller ones like this.

“The high chancellor has made it very clear that upon arrival he wants to be presented with a young child of a pure family
. It will all become clear to you why we need such a thing upon his arrival but I promise you big things are about to happen. Can you get me such a child?”

Jack knew exactly what he had to do and
, to be honest, he wasn’t completely happy with it. But he had little choice as to whether or not to go through with it. Harvesters have rebelled in the past and it has never ended well for them. Although vampires cannot feed on harvesters, because of their blood, they have plenty of other means of torture of which death would be a sweet relief.

“I can.” Jack
’s reply was simple as he tried to hold back his views towards what he had been asked. It just didn’t feel right for some reason. He bit his lip and knuckled under preparing for what he had to do. An uneasy feeling lurked in the back of his mind.

That night the vampires feasted
, as they did every night. They would not drink blood during the day, feeling no thirst for it, and would go about their daily business. Many of them had acquired quite a palate for fine wines and brandy. Once the night came however the hunger fell upon them and a lavish feast of blood was always set out in front of them by those who served them, be they slaves or worshipers, who blindly followed their vampire masters. At least until the day they too were fed upon, they didn’t expect this but vampires enjoy to play with their food.

The vampires gathered around the large dining table in the main hall with a look of lust in their eyes
. The chancellor arrived and took his seat at the head of the table. He said a few words and the blood was brought in. Mugs of it filled the table and a chalice was served to each vampire. They drunk so much in a night and blood spilt over the table and up the walls. They were glutinous. Long gone were the days where vampires were thankful for even small droplets of blood this was an orgy fuelled by the blood of the innocent, as they became stronger they only became more ravenous for depravity.

There were whispers in hushed voices all around the house about the arrival of the high chancellor
. Many were wondering why he would come here. What was so special about this feeding house that required the high chancellor to come all the way over here from Europe? The rumours and questions were mainly asked in the cellars by the harvesters who were slaving away at the machines getting the maximum amount of blood possible from the cattle. The vampires up stairs went through it so fast. It was a field of screams down there. Once the day came that they stopped screaming, that’s when you knew that they were on their last legs and were giving up on life.

The sun set once again and the vampires returned to their daily tasks
. The house became quite and still. Some vampires studied the great works of authors and scientists of times gone by while others drank fine wines and spirits until they could no longer stand. Others went out into the city and gambled the night away, high rollers at every casino in town with specially reserved booths and treatment equal to royalty.

Jack was not enjoying the luxuries of
his masters. He stood solemnly outside a country house in the middle of nowhere with the thought of what he was about to do running through his mind over and over again like a broken record. He had followed this family for a while now and knew they were all inside. He had come for the girl. Jack had been watching the house since nightfall and had seen the goings on of their day to day life. At moments he almost felt a hint of jealousy at the life this child had, the life he never got to lead.

It had been about three hours since the girl
, from the looks of her about 4, had been put to bed on a night she presumed was like every other. Jack had watched her kiss her dad on the cheek as he sat by the fire place and then be taken up stairs by her mother, after of course she gave her the doll that she had been looking for. It seemed like such a pleasant existence and obviously Jack thought he must be feeling some kind of remorse or he wouldn’t have stood out here waiting and observing the family for so long. But he didn’t understand why. After all this was basically like any other job on any other night. Subconsciously the knowledge of what he was going to do must have triggered some inert memory hidden deep inside his head from the day that he was taken.

It was time to strike
. No more waiting around. Jack pulled out his two shiny colt revolvers and checked them for bullets. He knew he had them and would barely need to use them but old habits die hard. He approached the house with a slow, confident stride, lighting the cigarette that hung from his mouth while he did so. Upon reaching the door he knocked twice. He could have just kicked the door down but manners cost nothing he thought to himself. You’ve got to have a sense of humour in a job like this or you’re just not going to make it.

The person behind the door opened it just a nervous inch wondering who could be calling at such a late h
our such as this “Who’s there? What do you want? Do know what time it is?”

It was an elderly woman’s voice
, probably a nanny for the kid. It was such a shame that she had to die too. Wrong place wrong time it’s a bitch for situations like this. Jack did not even bother to answer, his joke was over and now the serious business had to begin. He kicked the door in making it fly open sharply and rebound off the wall on the other side. He walked in noticing the old women on the floor as a pool of crimson spread around her head. She had flown back into the book case.

The noise of this violent entry was enough to alert the mast
er of the house who got up from his chair in the drawing room and ran to the desk. Pulling open the second draw down he pulled out his revolver and fumbled with the bullets trying to place them in. He was not a dab hand with a gun but felt safer with it than without. As he put the final bullet into the gun he prayed to God that his wife had not come out to investigate the noise before he had a chance to shoot this home invader.

Jack climbed up the staircase looking for the child’s room
. He passed pictures obviously drawn by the little girl on his way up the flight of stairs. He tried not to look at them knowing that as soon as he looked at them the human side of him would build an emotional attachment to the girl, and indeed the family, and that would make his job a hell of a lot harder.

Jack reached the bedroom door that he was sure was the child’s room
. He began to twist the handle when a nervous yet forceful voice came from behind him.

“I
don’t know who you are but you get the hell out of here you hear me. I swear I will shoot you where you stand,” Jack turned around to see the father of the child standing at the top of the stairs behind him. You could tell he was terrified and was not used to holding a gun. He quivered as he hid behind the barrel, the pistol in his hands was the only thing making him feel this strong it was the gun speaking not him.

A small crooked smile appeared on the side of jack’s mouth as he flashed the two colts at him as a form of intimidation, the man now in a state of panic prepared to pull the trigger. Jack jump
ed with lightning fast speed across the hallway, taking the gun clean out of the man’s hand and shooting him with it. The man stumbled backwards the look of  inevitable death filled his eyes and with one uneasy step he fell backwards down the stairs leaving him in a bloody heap on the floor.

Jack kicked the door open annoyed now at the resistance he had had to deal with and saw that inside the room huddled in the corner sat the mother cradling her young daughter shielding her from the attacker. Jack stood in the doorway looking down at the child as the mother ran screaming towards him trying to find any desperate last ditch attempt to protect her child.

The young girl curled up in the corner holding desperately onto her homemade doll as she watched on through the tears in her eyes. She wasn’t quite sure what was going on but watched as her mother’s neck was snapped round her head facing the wrong side of her body. Jack dropped the dead body of the girl’s mother as she looked into her cold dead eyes wondering what was going on, knowing but not fully understanding.

Jack grabbed the child
, not fully noticing that the doll was still in her hands, and not caring either way, he took her outside and threw her into the back of the carriage that was waiting for them. Jack grabbed a canister of gasoline and a box of matches and headed back inside. Pouring the gasoline all over the hall he took one last look into the dead eyes of the father before striking a couple of matches and throwing them down to the ground. He looked back as their carriage pulled away at the burning house behind them, the family that by his hand had just been destroyed forever. He didn’t know why but that uneasy feeling still remained in the pit of his stomach it was the feeling of knowing, like somehow he had been in a very similar situation before.

It was the day of the arrival of the high chancellor and there was a certain nervous excitement in the air
. It was well known that Dreno was not easily pleased and if you were to anger him the consequences would be dire. There were stories of previous visits he had taken to other feeding houses across various states, tales brought by distant travellers who would occasionally stay the night. Whether they were just tales or not they all seemed to paint a picture of him as a very wise yet very fearsome man.

BOOK: The Feeding House
8.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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