Chapter 8 EUPHORIA
NARRATIVE POINT OF VIEW
“W-what do you mean?” she stutters, his words caught her off guard. Perhaps her thought earlier was right, he might be fattening her up to save for later.
His blood-shot eyes gleamed. “I’m going to ask this again, do not answer in vain else I will end you this instant.”
She braced herself for his question.
“Do you know who you are?”
It never ceased to baffle her, it was the same thing he asked before. Agatha cluelessly met him in the eye “I’m just a servant of the Castledow family, I’m no more than that”
“How long have you been in their care?”
“It’s been…17 or so years. I don’t know, I’m not sure…I lost count and I don’t even know how old I am, Viscount”
He eyed the side as if he’s in deep thought. “How’d you end up with them? Here in Irvine?”
Agatha got even more perplexed, none of his questions made sense, why is he so curious about her past and why does it seem like he knew something about her that she didn’t. Could that be the reason he still hasn’t killed her, or is she just making a big fuss out of it? He could be mistaken after all.
“I don’t remember much of my childhood, but I can still remember the day I was adopted by the mayordomo of Lord Castledow”
He raised his brow, “all the way from Bridgeton?” he questioned himself under his breath.
“from where, sir?” Agatha asked as she failed to hear what he said. He shook his head and stood back up.
‘She have no idea’ he thought.
“wait here for a moment” he said before leaving the room.
Agatha sat there, thinking hard about what his words meant. But it just added too much strain on her already worn out mind. Not even a minute had passed, he came back. Agatha watched him as he stepped closer. Her eyes widened upon seeing the shining object he was carrying with a transparent goblet.
He kneeled in front of her, holding the glimmering knife as the suns light reflects it. Watching it closely, she can tell that it is a knife used for carving, the curve at the end proved it. Her breathing soared heavier by the second, all hopes died as she eyed him, her life flashed before her eyes.
“calm yourself” he ordered but that was useless, she was shivering out of despondence. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to stab her. The Viscount clicked his tongue, ‘look at this wench, saying she’s ready to be killed by my hands but she’s now fearing for her life. Pathetic! Just like the man who conceived her and the woman who birthed him’
He took her hand gently, turning it around and brushing the tip of the knife beneath her skin. Agatha bit her lips, suppressing any sort of scream that might make him mad.
“ah” she whimpered as the cut penetrated her deeper “my finger-“
She eyed the Viscount, and he was once again the same creature she saw that night. She leaned back, trying to get her face away from him. He held her hand tightly, letting the blood flow out of the small cut by the end of her index finger, the goblet was filling and his eyes looked delighted as ever.
With a gaping mouth and a heavy breath, it’s evident that he can’t wait further. Agatha stared at the ground, now she knew the purpose of her being kept alive. Once the goblet was filled, he threw her hand away, he eyed the blood-filled goblet intensely with an obvious thirst.
He stood up, holding it up high as if he’s worshipping it. Agatha pulled herself back, crawling herself into the corner. With her back against the wall. she sat there and watched him aggressively chugging her blood.
His demonic laughter echoed, he had a look of frenzy as he held both his hands out spreading it further apart ripping the side of his fancy vest. His fangs showed as the blood dripped off the side of his mouth, his eyes were red and the night-dark cornea of his shone.
“HOW LUCKY AM I?!” he yelled repeatedly, laughing and cheering around the room.
‘what is happening?’ she asked herself in fear as the last vampire cheered in triumph. He suddenly gazed at her, she froze that instance and out of nowhere he just appeared in front of her wearing that beastly look. It was faster than the speed of light, in a flick he appeared before her.
Agatha breathes heavily, he was still laughing but it was far from the charming chuckle he usually does. It was a diabolical guffaw, similar to those you’d hear from enchanting witches. His hand suddenly clasped her face. His lips formed a wide grin, he scratches her left cheek lightly using his claw. Blood dripped and he leaned closer to lick it.
Agatha was in shock. She clenched her dress feeling his wet tongue repeatedly trickling over her face.
He pulled away still wearing that demonic smile, “What is your new-founded name?” he asked.
Agatha’s eyes widened, she’s completely out of it but she managed to answer quickly “Agatha…”
“Agatha? perfect” he mumbled. “Let’s have a deal, shall we?”
“I assure you Duke Campbell, Viscount Claude is a great man. He’s been helping me campaign” Lord Baron said as he proceeded to persuade the Duke and Duchess of Sordon. They held the meeting in the house of Sordon, it was no more than a casual dinner with their family. Lady Clarisse, the wife of Lord Baron nods in agreement but the son of the Duke and Duchess thought otherwise.
“I simply can’t meet him eye to eye, he’s doing this for something. I am not sure what but it’ll clearly lead to a matter hard to deal with” The young man commented, placing the files containing the information of the Viscount harshly on the table. He eyed the window, seeing the wide garden of their state brought him tranquility.
“Pay him no mind” Duke Campbell said, Damon rolled his eyes. It irks him how his parents constantly ignore him. He knew for a fact how greedy these people are, he shook his head with an expression showing how done he is with their business.
Lord Baron faked a laugh, “Don’t worry young master” he said pertaining to Damon “he’s just a helpful young lad” he said with an ignorant assurance. Damon clicked his tongue, “excuse me” he said as he stood up.
“Damon!” the Duchess called for him but he ignored it, exiting the office with soaring annoyance. The lady servants stood by the door, they all bowed when he got out. He stopped in his tracks and stared at one of them. “you” he pointed, the young servant looked up “yes, young master?”
“come to my room and play with me” he said with a playful grin, immediately shifting his mood to forget what just happened. She held her posture low, “understood, young master” she replied as they made their way in his room. The playful son of the Duke never ceased to terrify the female servants of that house. A young man raging with immoral desires will govern that state one day. Despite his clever decision making antics, his weakness in women will be his downfall. A similar troupe to his naïve and greedy parents.
