The Fire Within (The Fire of The Soul Series) (2 page)

The nursemaids rush
about my wife whom lies upon the bed, exhausted from the physical exertion of
labour. She looks beautiful, her wild curls tangling around her head which is
covered in sweat. I can hear the cry of a child. This is the moment of truth;
if it is a boy we are safe, if it is a girl then we'd start to play the waiting
game. Waiting for what exactly? The return of the Vampire.

The nursemaids bring
the child into the room, wrapped in a thin linen cloth. They smiled down upon
my wife, whom holds out her arms waiting patiently to hold her child.
"It's a girl," is the head nursemaid's words. These words are my
child's - nay daughter's - own condemnation; these words are the very thing
that stirs terror within my soul. They pass the baby onto my wife and I go to
sit beside her, so that I may look at my daughter.

She's beautiful without
a doubt, with mahogany brown hair and pale skin. Her eyes are the colour of
emeralds and her lips are red as blood. I can see within her eyes the soul of
that vampire. She only has seventeen years of peace before he comes for her. We
only have seventeen years of peace before our world is torn apart.

"What should we
name her?" My wife - Darleen - whispers. My wife's soft brown eyes are
looking at me, searching for my own eyes.

"We'll name her
Annabelle, for there is no-one as beautiful as she." I say and Darleen
smiles at this. Her smile and the joy of having our first child, makes me
forget my fears about the vampire. Alas I know that my fears will only be
temporarily soothed and that they will return. However, for now I will simply
enjoy having my two girls by my side, for I know it wont always be like this.

Anna's P.O.V

I wake up in the middle
of the night, my father standing above me. There is an orange flicker on his
face, and I realize that he's holding a lit torch. The ground beneath me is not
the soft sheets of my bed, instead it is a cold hard stone, and I am instantly
afraid. I try to stand on my feet so that I may run, but I cannot get any
higher than my knees. I try to scream but I cannot, my mouth is gagged with an
old cloth. My father grins at me before he turns to greet another man. The man
is a priest, I can tell by his black robes and the silver cross around his
neck. His face is scarred and old, he must be an elderly man but it is clear
that he has the body and strength of a younger man.

"Is she ready?
Have you prepared her body as I instructed?" The Priest asks my father.

"Yes Father
Wright, her body has been sanctified and prepared for The Lord to do a
miracle." My father says, and I wonder with horror what he has done to me
in the hours that I slept.

"Very well I
suppose we should start then," The Priest says, and I stare at the man in
wide-eyed horror.

"Take away the gag
Rupert; it is no longer needed now that I am here," The Priest orders. My
father does not hesitate to do as the Priest asks, and he takes away the gag. I
am afraid to scream, afraid of the consequences that will follow if I make a
sound.

"What is your
name?" The Priest asks, he is holding onto his cross and carefully
fingering the silver beads.

"Father, my name
is Anna. I don't know what my father has told you..." I say before a sharp
slap forces my words to stop. I stare at him in horror, why did he just slap
me?

"Hush girl. I'm
not in the mood to be answering any of your questions. However, you will answer
all of mine with short but precise sentences. There is no needing to go
rattling off. Do you understand?" The Priest says, his eyes focus on me
with an intensity that no words could justify. It is horrific the way that he
stares into my eyes, as if he is looking for my soul inside of them.

The Priest goes on to say,
"Your father has asked me to come here to perform an exorcism upon you,
because he believes that there is a demon within you. However, if you confess
of your sins and you ask the Lord for forgiveness, it is within his power to
release you from the curse that binds you. However, if you do not than I must
do as your father has asked of me. Do you understand?"

"I understand
Father Wright," I say, my eyes staying focused on the man before me.

"Will you confess
of your sins child?" The Priest asks me after a moment of silence. I know
that this is my chance to say something, but how can I when I have not sinned.
What could an innocent child, a ten year old girl have done so wrong to force
her to repent? Or force her father to have an exorcism performed on her? The
Priest takes my silence as a refusal to repent and takes a step back, clutching
fiercely to his cross.

"The demon refuses
to let her speak, Father Wright." My father says to the priest, however
the priest ignores my father. Instead his attention, his eyes, are focused on
me as he clutches to his beaded cross as if it is a lifeline.

"Show yourself
demon, so that The Lord God Almighty may do his work." The pries screams
at me and I tremble before him. Nothing happens and as the time passes the
priest gets angrier. I don't know what he expects to happen, as he is waiting
for a demon and there is no demon within me.

After a long silence
the priest says a prayer "Lord God Almighty, through the power that you
have invested in me, I call down your glory to banish the demon within this
child. Demon, by the power invested in me by the Holy Trinity I banish you from
this child, leave and never return." The Priest finishes his prayer. My
father hands the priest a brander, whose iron is a burning red glow and at its
tip - the brand itself - is a cross, one very similar to that of the Priest's.

"Now where was it
that you said she had the Demon's mark?" The Father asks and I know he
isn't talking to me. My father comes over to me, pulls off my cloak and pulls
down my sleeve, revealing my star birth-mark to the Priest whom walks over and
inspects it. He dares not touch the mark, and for that alone I am grateful. I
am also grateful that I am spared from feeling his hands upon my skin. However,
instead of feeling his fingers, I feel the red-hot iron upon my flesh, he holds
it there for what feels like an eternity, but what must only be minuets before
pulling it away. I can smell my own flesh cooking and I choke upon the bile
that rises within me.

The two men walk away
from me and I watch them with loathing, a deep hatred that no girl should ever
feel towards her father, or towards a priest.

"My payment,"
the priest says as he grins coyly.

"As we agreed
thirty pieces of silver," my father says, handing over quite a hefty bag of
coins.

"You may make your
leave now Father Wright," my father says when the priest does not move.

"Of course;
however, I want one other thing from you Rupert," the priest says, his
grin growing larger as he quickly glances towards me.

"And what is that
Father?" my father says with a sneer, his eyes blazing with anger in the
firelight.

"I want your
daughter for the night; I have always loved the soft, innocent flesh of
children," the priest says, his words making no sense to me. What does he
want me for the night for, so that he may brand me or torture me as my father
does?

My father glances over
at me and for a moment I see concern within his eyes, as if he can't bear to
see me this way. I have hope that my father will deny the priest what he asks
for. Instead my hopes are crushed as my father turns to the priest.

"You may have her
for the night and you may do what you wish with her. If it helps to quiet your
own demons Father, then my daughter is at your service. Though make sure you
are off of my land by morning, for I will punish you and there are things far
worse than death," my father sneers at the priest, and then he turns away
from him, from me before he begins to walk away. I know it is futile to call
out to my father; he will never turn back to save me. It isn't long before I am
alone with the priest; there is a dirty look in his eyes and a sly smile on his
lips. He slowly approaches me, and for the first time this evening I scream out
in horror. For as this man approaches me, I slowly learn of what he means, when
he said that he wanted me.

I roll over in bed and
wrap my arms around my body, trying to shake the memory from my mind. I had
only been ten, nothing more than an innocent child and to be subjected to that
was more horrific than anyone could believe. Although I had been exorcised, I
hadn't become the victim of Father Wright that night; no I had a saviour who
had come to my rescue. That saviour’s name is Simon. He had been a
sixteen-year-old boy at time. He was only present in the stables that night
because he worked and slept in the stables. He had fought off Father Wright,
and had released me from my bindings. Simon and I had grown close ever since
that night, he had become my saviour, my protector, my guardian and friend. I'm
indebted to Simon for saving me that night, but I had never found a way to
repay my debt.

Today was meant for
celebrations, as it was my seventeenth birthday however it's also a day to be
dreaded, for even though it is my birthday, today, or rather tonight, it would
also be my engagement. There is to be a grand ball in my honour tonight, on the
pretence of my birthday. In fact, in my father's and mother's eyes, it is in
honour of my engagement to one of the several gentlemen, my father has been
considering promising my hand in marriage to. As these things always go, I will
have no say in the matter nor does that of true love; if only I knew what that
really is.

Three sharp knocks in
quick succession resound on my bedroom door. I sit up in bed and wrap my night
gown around my body. "Who is it?" I call to the person standing on
the other side of my door.

"Annabelle
darling, open the door, it's past nine and you should be ready by now," My
mother's voice resounds on the other side of the door. God, I hate it when she
uses my full name. It just sounds so proper.

"Or what you'll
send Simon to knock down the door? Because God only knows that father would not
be able to do so," I retort, amazed at how swiftly the words has come to
me.

"Annabelle Louise
VanDyken, I command you to open this door now!" I groan, She just has to
be like this, as if she has any control over me. I don't want to obey her but I
do, knowing that tonight it is not just my father's choice, but my mother's as
well. I walk over to the door purposefully slow and open it.

"There,
happy?" I ask, her eyes open widely as they take in my state of dress,
which is no more than my undergarments and my purple silk night gown.

"Am I happy? Am I
happy? Annabelle you are not dressed and Rupert is waiting in the carriage, yet
here you stand in nothing but your undergarments and that ridiculous piece of
cloth that you call a night gown, asking me if I'm happy!" She exclaims, I
notice Meg rush into the room, frightened by the tone my mother is using. She
opens the wardrobe and pulls out a robin blue dress - one which she knows is my
favourite - and I assume she is trying to please me and not my mother; which is
absolutely ridiculous as she doesn't need to please me, she is my best friend
after all.

"Not that one you
imbecile, the cream one, with the lace." I don't like the way she talks to
Me, it simply isn't right. I just can't understand how she can talk to another
person as if they are nothing. Meg is just as important as my mother, but in my
mother's eyes, in the social structure of the world Meg is nothing, and that is
just the way my mother has been brought up.

I am thankful to
whatever God there is that I am nothing like my mother, well, at least
personality wise because looking at my mother I know that saying I am nothing
like her would be a lie. I have inherited some of her beauty, such as her
chocolate eyes, and her dark auburn hair and thick lips, and we are also quite
the same size in our feminine structure. I have inherited my pale skin from my
father. He is so pale that at times when I see him late at night I mistake him
for a ghost.

Whilst I am thinking to
myself, Meg has returned the blue dress and has pulled out the cream dress that
my mother has requested. It isn't the fact that it isn't beautiful that I don't
like it, rather it is the fact that it is uncomfortable, and that my mother had
brought it for me. The dresses collar frames my neck and shoulder bones and
ends in a large swooping neckline. The material of the dress ends at my elbows
but bells out down the rest of my arm with the same lace of the collar and
neckline, the dress ends at my ankles, the hem containing more lace. Meg lays
it down over a chair as my mother makes her way over to my door.

"I will give you
five minutes Annabelle. I expect you dressed and ready to go out into town to
meet with Mr. Sitzman." My mother says, before she leaves the room. Meg
gives me an apologetic smile before she beckons me to her, so that she could
help me get into the dress. I don't understand why she puts up with my mother,
if I was her I would have left a long time ago, but I am not Meg, and there is
no way that I can escape this place, without having to marry a man of nobility.