Oblivion
Part 3
by Lyraine
E-Mail: lyraine@yahoo.com
Chapter Three
David looked at her in frank disbelief. "Reparation? For what? I owe you nothing. What the hell do you mean by that?"
"For my daughter. You cost me a child, lured her away from me with your promises of love."
"Meredith made her own choices. She wasn't even with me when she died." His retort was bitter, resonant with the old pain.
"You took her where she was no longer safe. The fault remains yours. You shall replace her." Anne's voice was cold and harsh, her tone reminiscent of ice on steel. "Is that clear enough for you?"
"Replace her how? Stay here with you? I don't think…" he trailed off in astonishment as she began to laugh. Unaccountably, she appeared to be genuinely amused, not angry or mocking as she had been earlier. He wondered in annoyance what the hell he had said that she found so damned funny.
Finally she stopped laughing, and merely looked at him with mirth still evident in her eyes. "That's rich. You, as a substitute for my daughter? I think not. No. What you will do, is give me another child."
"Give you…you can't mean…I don't think so!" David said vehemently. "No way am I sleeping with you. You aren't even human." He headed for the stair, but her voice stopped him cold.
"Neither are you, anymore."
A dread weight settled heavily in the pit of his stomach, sending out waves of cold fear. "What did you say?"
"You're no longer human. You didn't think you were still alive did you?" She laughed again as she saw the look on his face. "You did, didn't you? Poor little fool. I killed you last night, tore your throat wide open. I meant to take a simple revenge and nothing more, and yet… And yet as I fed I felt your grief, your desire for oblivion. I raised you then… cursed you with immortality…" She spoke quietly, without inflection, and yet somehow her words struck through him like driven nails.
"Immortality?" he asked in an agonized whisper. His thoughts were a turmoil of darkness and pain. To live like this, torn apart by grief and haunting memories, forever? Never knowing peace or rest? She'd truly damned him, he realized angrily. "You condemn me to agony, and you expect me to give you what you want? Never!"
Anne's eyes glittered with suppressed rage as she fixed him with a disdainful glare. "You are a child of darkness now… bound to me. You will give me what I want, or I will take back my gift and let you will die. I promise you, your death will not be the blissful oblivion you seek. Now get some rest like a good boy. You'll need every ounce of strength you can muster tomorrow." She indicated one of the large chairs with her elbow, then stalked from the room without a backward glance.
David's thoughts spun in a maelstrom of confusion. He couldn't be dead, could he? Last night had just been a gruesome dream. It couldn't possibly be true. Hadn't Meredith told him that her mother was dead? No, Anne had to be lying. Vampires! Imagine trying to feed him a line like that. If she really was any relation to Meredith, she was obviously dangerously psychotic. He had to find a way to escape! His mind made up at last, David surveyed the room around him. He pointedly ignored the niggling little voice inside his head that reminded him that people had been disappearing here for centuries. He couldn't afford to acknowledge it. It was obvious that she wasn't human, but letting that give credence to her story would make the situation seem hopeless.
His cautious examination of the main chamber left him without a plan. There was obviously no way out but the stairs they had descended in the first place. Damn. He realized that the entry had closed behind them. Not good, not good at all. He'd just have to count on the vagaries of luck, and pray that he could figure out how to open it again. First though, he'd have to wait until he was certain that Anne slept. He could still hear her rustling around in the other room. Dropping heavily into one of the large chairs, David closed his eyes and made himself comfortable.
***
It was some time before there were no more sounds from the other room. Anne had come back in to check on him at least twice but he had remained still as stone, feigning sleep. Hesitantly, David cracked open one eye and looked around. So far so good, he seemed to be alone. Stretching silently, he stood and tiptoed over to the archway. He listened for several seconds before he was satisfied that Anne must be sleeping. Smiling to himself, David moved stealthily toward the stairs, his confidence increasing with every step. He'd get out of this yet he crowed to himself.
He was nearly to the base of the steps when he heard a great creaking noise. He recoiled in shock as he realized that one of the huge statues had somehow moved to block the stairs. He barely had time to realize that the other statue was nowhere to be seen when something lifted him off of his feet from behind. Struggling to twist around for a look at his assailant, David saw the two statues that flanked the archway begin slowly to move. They stretched awkwardly then began to converge upon him, creaking with every step. Another look told him that the one that had blocked the stairs was closing in too. His horror grew with every step they took; they were even larger and more dangerous looking than they had originally appeared. One of the immense statues, no, make that birdmen since it was obvious that they were very menacingly alive, brandished his axe. The others merely flexed their wicked looking claws.
David began to shake in earnest as the nearest birdman reached out and ran one viciously sharp talon down his cheek. Where it had passed, it left a trail of fiery agony. It was all he could do not to scream out in rage and desperation. Dragging him to the center of the room, they forced him onto his back over one of the larger tables. Three of them held him spread-eagled on the rough wooden surface, tilting his head sharply backward to bare his throat. The fourth raised his flashing double-bladed axe high above David's head. As the axe began its inevitable descent, he found himself once more looking oblivion in the eye.
The blade appeared to trace a pattern in slow motion. As he watched its slow arc, he realized suddenly, too late, that death was not what he sought. He was so dazed by this thought that it came as something of a shock when he heard Anne's voice shout "Stand." The birdmen once more froze like stone, holding him trapped. The blade of the axe shone a mere fraction of an inch from his exposed throat.
(c) M.C. Sak 1999