BOOK ONE - THE HOUSE ON BLACKSTONE
MOOR
After discovering her savagely murdered family, Rose Baines is plunged into a nightmare of hell. She is incarcerated in two madhouses, after which she is helped to obtain a position as governess at Blackstone House. Located on haunted moorland, nothing is as it seems for the House and its inhabitants have hideous secrets. There is unimaginable horror there, and love too--love that comes at a terrible price.
Chapter 1
They say
my father was mad, so corrupted by evil and tainted with sin that he did what
he did. I came home to find them all dead; their throats had been savagely cut.
My
sisters, only five and eight, were gone, as well as my brother who was twelve.
My mother too lay butchered in her marriage bed. The bed her children were born
in.
I
discovered him first—in the sitting room lying in a sea of crimson, the bloody
razor still clutched in his hand.
How pitiful
I must have looked, bent down trying to wake him. Calling to him over and over,
“Papa please, please wake up!”
He could
not, of course, waken. No more was he to open his eyes in this world—had I not
been struck mad, I would have realized.
Yet,
madness is sometimes a mercy when shadows come to take the horror away.
Do not
pull away in terror, please. I have much to confess. Just be patient, for I
promise I will tell you everything. The only thing I ask in return is for you
not to judge me until you hear my entire story.
If I
recall that dreadful night, I remember it in confusing images and noise. People
came and went. Gentle hands touched me, trying to soothe away the shock and
agony—voices too, hushed and sad, told me things I could not understand.
“Go away.”
I
probably said that, though I can’t be sure. Lucidity was not my strong point
that night. I do recall someone carrying me out of the house to a neighbor’s
house.
We lived
in Notting Hill then, having moved from Mayfair after my father’s illness—more
about that later.
The
house was on Blenheim Crescent, a respectable house in a respectable
neighborhood. Despite this, the grander environs of Mayfair were much
remembered and longed for by my mother especially. My mother, who now lay caked
in blood in her disliked rooms of Notting Hill.
“You
remember me, don’t you Rose? It’s Dr. Arliss.”
Dr.
Arliss? Our physician. Was he there?
“I am
sorry Rose, but you must go with them.”
People
can’t be left around screaming, you understand.
I was
silenced by strong hands. “Come along, miss. That’s better.”
I hadn’t
the sense to ask where I was being taken. All I can remember is being removed
from my neighbor’s home.
I
couldn’t very well stay in my own home surrounded by the blood-splattered
corpses of my murdered family, now could I?
They
half dragged me down the stairs and out into an icy rain.
“Just
get her in...”
A woman
reached for me. I did catch sight of her face; she looked serious but not
unkind. “Come along now, dear.”
Dear,
that was nice. I do believe I thanked her. Well, I wasn’t right in my head was
I?
“Where
are you taking me?”
So
polite, a soft refined voice heard at church socials. But not me. Churches and
I never mixed. Of course, I would regret that.
“Harry,
go get the restraints!”
Restraints?
It doesn’t affect me but that’s because it’s nothing to me. I’m not really
there, you see. Well, not all of the time.
I must
explain something. These first hours following the carnage were a blur to me,
really. I have only understood things over time. But that is better as I can
tell you my story more clearly.
I dozed,
I think. Well, there was a pinch on my arm earlier and Dr. Arliss telling me he
was giving me something to relax me.
The
wagon moved—clip clop down the streets for an indeterminable time, but then it
stopped. A door opened and other arms reached for me.
“That’s
right, love, all out!”
They
were taking me into a building of some sort. “What is this place?”
I’m not
sure if I asked that question, if I was able to. But if I was, I know I didn’t
receive an answer.
Someone
had me under the arm, one of the men from the wagon. “It’s alright.”
Why was
everyone telling me it was alright when it was the worst time of my life?
We
stepped inside a vestibule. A woman looked up from a high desk, not at me but
at the man who was still holding my arms. “Name?”
He took
out a piece of paper, glanced at it and said, “Rose Baines 22 Blenheim
Crescent, Notting Hill.”
“Oh! A
lady are we, dear?” I start to answer but her words drowned me out. “Right, put
her in with the rest of them.”
This was
when I started to feel fearful. The rest of them? That didn’t sound nice. I
needed help—had I been arrested? They didn’t think I did it, did they?
I
started to struggle, which was the worst thing I could have done.
“Now
stop that at once!”
I cried
out. “I am innocent please help me!”
They
dragged me away then. And as they did, I got a whiff of ether and disinfectant.
Was I in
a hospital? Maybe that was good. It was better than being in a prison!
But why,
if it wasn’t a prison, did I see a massive gate just ahead, in the very
direction we were heading for?
And
then, a surly face, along with clanging keys and the sound of locks being
opened, completed the scene.
“In
here.”
It was a
smallish room, more like a cage than a room—far too small for all of the sad
humanity that populated it. A sea of the most miserable and pathetic faces
greeted me. Some held their sides and rocked back and forth, others slept or
cried. One or two were crouched against the scummy walls, muttering to
themselves.
The realization
hit me. They thought me insane!
I cried
out but no one came. “Please, someone!”
The
pathetic creatures I found myself with began to repeat my cries. They didn’t do
it to mock me I’m certain, but it was horrible anyway.
At last
I was quiet. I couldn’t stand their shrieking and if that wasn’t bad enough,
some of them were filthy and smelled of the street and the gutter.
I was
there for a long time I think, crying quietly and dozing, too. An attendant
came around a few times, mostly to look in at us and saunter away, immune to
our protestations or questions, mine included.
I did
finally sleep deeply. I don’t know for how long; all I know is that there was
the unmistakable sound of jangling keys and the realization that the door had
been opened.
I picked
my head up off of the filthy bench to see who had come in. It was a gentleman,
that was obvious. He looked over each of us. A burly man accompanied him. They
kept whispering to one another.
When he
got to me, he raised the torch into my face. I put my arm up for the light was
blinding.
“No
dear,” he said gently, moving my arm down. “I just want to see your face.”
I almost
asked him why. I think now, looking back on it, I should have—things might have
been different if I had.
As he
was holding the torch aloft, I could just make out his even features. His
expression was kindly. “I am Dr. Bannion and I’d like to talk to you.”
*
I was
unwell, confused in my mind, yet there are moments I remember well and this was
one of them.
Before
he led me out he spoke to the attendant. I am sure that was to ascertain
whether she thought I’d be violent. Just to be on the safe side, she went
along, her arms at her side but ready to go into action at any time.
Most of
these attendants were big-boned and tall, and could have easily been taken for
men.
“In
here, please.”
It was a
small room with a bench and some cabinets. It was filled with medicine bottles
and books and things.
I sat on
a bench alongside the attendant with the doctor facing us.
He began
at once. “Now then! Would you prefer to be called by your surname or your
Christian name?”
How
singularly unimportant that was in the scheme of things. But I didn’t realize
it then, I am certain I said I preferred to be called Rose.
He
looked pleased when I spoke. “Well now, do you feel able to answer some
questions, Rose?”
I quite
liked his manner, as ill as I was—and I was very ill and confused a great deal
of the time. But, I did like him because he sounded kind and caring. And
because he did, I wished to answer all his queries. “I shall try.”
“Yes,
that is all one can ever expect is to try.”
I
noticed then that he nodded toward the attendant to take that as a sign for her
departure. I was delighted.
“What
can you tell me, Rose? You were away for the weekend, weren’t you?”
“Yes I
was.” I hadn’t remembered that until he reminded me. “I was at my aunt’s.”
He was
speaking to me and jotting notes down, too. I think I expected that.
“Your
aunt is ill.”
“Yes,
she is dying.” Suddenly, I remembered my mother telling me to go and I got choked
up and found it impossible to go on. “Please, sir.”
He
reached over and touched my arm gently as a friend would. I found the gesture
reassuring and I smiled. “It is so hard.”
That, as
they say, was the last straw for suddenly I collapsed in a paroxysm of tears
and sobs. I was quite wild and unmanageable.
The
attendant reappeared.
“Rose, I
am giving you something. It will help to relax you.”
Everything
became a pleasant blur but I did hear Dr. Bannion’s voice say, “I shall remove
her to Marsh where she can get the best care.”
*
He told
me Marsh was a place where I could rest, where he’d help me get better. “You’ll
see, Rose. It’s in the country in a lovely location. I run it and I am certain
you will benefit greatly.”
I had
questions I wished to ask him but since I didn’t feel as though he wished me to
ask him anything, I didn’t.
I wonder
still what he would have said if I had.
“We
shall take the train. Huddersfield is a long way from London.”
“In
Yorkshire, sir?”
“Yes,
the West Riding and it’s quite beautiful there.”
I
remember bits and pieces of this day. I remember smelling the rain and him
helping me into the carriage.
“Kings
Cross, please!”
The cab
jerked forward to oblige.
“It
won’t be long now.”
I had so
many questions but not the sense or ability to ask them, for he had given me
another injection before we left.
“Yes
that’s right, you close your eyes.”
In and
out, sleeping one minute and awake the next.
The cab
stopped and we were there—Kings Cross.
He had
already explained that we would have to change trains a few times. “Don’t
worry, I shall take care of everything.”
How
comforting that was to hear. I began to trust him and to rely on him then.
As for
the trip itself, I can only recall it as a muddle of steam and groaning metal,
of sharp whistles too, so loud I covered my ears.
“That’s
alright, Rose.”
The
calming voice, again. I smiled for I was comforted.
I slept
most of the time, barely noticing being guided gently from one train to
another, with his voice always soothing me: “Yes, just this way now. There you
may sit down now, Rose.”
And then
later as if I was a sleepwalker waking from a dream, I heard him say, “You
really have slept most of the way, we should be arriving fairly soon.”
He
looked pleased and because he did I felt pleased, too. “Truly, I never meant to
sleep so much.”
The
train screeched to a stop and we disembarked like two weary travelers nearing
the end of an expedition. And perhaps it was, as it was a quest to get better…
or so I thought.
I was
not prepared for the tumult. I cringed at the hustle and bustle of so many
people rushing this way and that.
But he
calmly ushered me along. “Just this way, Rose, you’re doing splendidly.”
I was
proud and felt my spirits soar.
A line
of cabs and a cab man called out. “Any place. Fair rates!”
“Marsh,
please.”
A
startled look from said cabbie. “Marsh, sir? The town or--!”
“The
asylum, if you please.”
“Rightie
oh, sir!”
Asylum? A madhouse? Why
hadn’t I asked, why hadn’t I known? But what difference could it have possibly
made?
“There
it is, Rose.” he nodded, looking at me encouragingly.
I looked
out to see a forbidding place with granite walls and towering gates, implacable
barriers to be reckoned with and the words strung across the archway:
MARSH
LUNATIC ASYLUM.
I had
come home, at least for now.
BOOK TWO
- UNHOLY TESTAMENT - THE BEGINNINGS
Eco, first seen in the previous book, has documented all of the sins he has committed during the course of his immortal life. Trying to get Rose to forgive him, he forces Rose to read his journal by holding her children hostage.
CHAPTER 1
I am
what I am for I have become a creature of the blood; a being who dwells in the
world of the undead and always shall.
He knew
I would make the choice to save the children who are also creatures of the
blood. He knew it for he had orchestrated it, like the maestro that he is, Eco
an immortal like my own beloved; both of them born of fallen angels and human
women. But whereas Louis is good, Eco carries the seeds of Hell within him—Eco
our worst enemy; Eco the destroyer of our friends, the fiend who had ravished
me and would have married me in Hell, before Satan himself; Eco who haunts my
dreams and always shall.
He had
staked the children, my children now for it is my blood that flows within them.
In order to save them I opened my own veins that they should drink.
“Drink,
my loves, for it is the only gift I have for you.”
I gave
up my living life for them and gladly, too. But because of my act I saw the
flames of Hell and felt Hell’s horrific heat.
Yet,
Hell left no mark on me. I passed through it and was raised. The one who loved
me drew me forth. No demon touched me, although they tried. Hordes upon hordes
of them reached out to pull me back, back into their master’s domain.
Yet just
as they reached for me, I felt myself snatched away. They shouted in rage as I
was pulled still further and further away.
And
then, I heard a voice, a voice I knew. A voice, it seemed, my heart always
dreamt of.
“Rose, I
command you to rise from death for death shall not claim you!”
His
voice called to me, summoning me forth—the voice of my love, my Louis.
And
then, like a baby being born, I emerged into the bright light. I know now it
was sunlight. Someone touched my hand. It was Simon. My child now for I had
perished giving him my own life force.
And so I
was reborn. My transformation was all embracing. All secrets were revealed as
the truth of all worlds was shown me. Every question I ever had about God or
heaven or humanity was revealed.
I knew
God was good and people were supposed to do with their lives the most that they
could. I knew about damnation and loyalty to Heaven so that I better understood
exile from that kingdom of light. Though undead, I still did know what truth
was.
I
understood that to be separate from God for whatever purpose was not to be
desired, yet one great and fundamental truth was this—that evil exists because
good exists. It is the great balance to everything.
And so I
left one world to enter another—the world of the undead, that place where I
would dwell forever.
My
senses were alive as they had never been before. I smelled the wildlife that
called the moors their home; birds and rodents—and all manner of insects.
I heard
sounds I had never heard. And it was all mine to share with those I loved.
How
Louis wept.
And what
of my undead children?
At least
they had not seen their friends destroyed. At least they had been spared that.
Eco left
us then for he had accomplished his purpose.
And so
we took our friends’ mangled corpses—Dr. Antor and the sisters, Joan and Belle
Lodge, and we burned them. Louis said the flames would cleanse their bodies of
Eco’s vile touch and I was glad.
We left
then. We left Blackstone Moor never to return.
So what
of Blackstone House? Louis tore it apart as he would have liked to tear Eco
asunder.
“Mama,
where is the house?”
The
children asked this and I answered: “It is no more. It is gone forever.”
And
Louis nodded for it was true. Its sinister power would no longer haunt me.
I have
survived much, Louis has always said so. I have survived madness and murder.
The madness was in the guise of my lunatic father who stole my innocence over
many years and then murdered himself and our family.
I did
not emerge unscathed from such horror. No I did not. There were madhouses after
that, two in fact.
And then
there was Dr. Bannion, director of Marsh Asylum, a supposedly dedicated doctor,
a doctor I trusted but one who was in league with Satan and who called Eco
friend.
Yes, I
have survived much.
*
The
children were ill, though they both tried to hide it by pretending they
weren’t. Still, Louis and I both knew they were weak; we could see it in their
faces and in their dull eyes and their ashen skin.
The
fever started within a day of our leaving Blackstone Moor. First Ada was struck
down by it and then Simon.
“We will
go to a doctor I know…” Louis’ words and I was relieved to hear them.
There
was a coven in north Yorkshire. Louis knew the master; he had been a doctor in
his living life. Now he tended his coven as their protector and friend.
Each one
of Louis’ friends is like he is: selfless and kind, untainted by the forces of
evil, although vampires vary as human beings do. There are good and bad; those
riddled with sin or not.
He told
me of his friend’s living life as we journeyed there.
“Edward
was a good doctor, kindly and caring. He perished in the Great Fire. I tended
him but he passed away. It was better for him too for his burns were terrible,
his agony intolerable. Still, when I raised him he was free of the physical
pain but not the pain of his new existence.”
Edward,
another of the deserving undead.
I liked
him right away. He reminded me of Louis but he was older looking, for he had
been created in the winter of his living life.
His face
was badly scarred, his ear disfigured. Those marks would be forever upon him;
the signs of the fire which ended his life.
He
welcomed us and embraced Louis.
“My
friend, it has been too long.”
When his
eyes fell upon me I had the feeling he knew. He took my hand and kissed it.
“You are most welcome and all your kin.”
Then his
eyes beheld Simon and Ada. He sobbed for he knew them and saw how weakened they
were.
“They
will recover,” he said. “But they need rest.”
He made
them a poultice of wolfbane and herbs. The children hardly stirred and he
smiled. “It is good they sleep, for it will speed the healing.”
The
women of the coven were kindly too. They varied in age. That is, the time of
their living lives when they were created varied. Some were elderly looking and
others looked quite young.
There
were sisters and a granny and children, too; children who had grown old before
their time, ancient before their death and raising up.
Edward
introduced them. “They are a family. They were and still are and always shall
be.”
He would
tell us later they had perished in a cholera outbreak.
“None of
the factory owners did, just them. They like it here among the rugged dales and
green hills, and it is here they shall dwell.”
This,
their dwelling place, had been a farm. The outbuildings were still used as
stables and there were chicken pens.
They
were not regular imbibers of blood as we are not. Though when we sicken, and we
do sometimes fall ill, all but Louis that is, we do require fresh blood.
“When
the children wake,” he said. “They will take a broth. It is a mixture of herbs
and animal blood. I am afraid it smells awful but it is what they need. I have
given this to many who sicken.”
I was
worried as vampires have been known to perish from disease and the effects of
attacks.
“They
were staked,” I said. “They nearly perished.”
“Eco,”
Louis said.
The
doctor nodded. “Yes, his name is a curse upon the lips of all vampires, and
those who do not curse him are his servants in Hell.”
We were
there for some time. The children were ill as the fever lingered. They were
delirious too and that was the worst. They hadn’t spoken of their mother very
much. But they did then. They spoke of Eve and of that terrible time when the
vampire killers came and destroyed Louis’ coven.
Louis
destroyed the killers. But if he killed them, Eve first destroyed herself. Poor
Eve, she was truly her own worst enemy.
I tried
to comfort the children for they were moaning and looked to be in great
distress.
Edward
said they could not hear me. “It is different than if a living person was delirious.
They really do see those they knew, those other undead like themselves.”
I
wondered then if they saw Eve wherever she existed. Edward was not surprised
she had destroyed herself.
“Yes,
poor Eve—there was a tortured being.”
I asked
him if he thought the children might see her now, the way they were.
“They
will only see her in shadow, in the shadowy realm she now inhabits.”
Louis
said he had prophesied that Eve would bring about her own dark destiny upon
herself and those she loved, and so she had, but she had only destroyed
herself.
Days and
weeks passed and I watched the children, relieved that the delirium passed and
with it the fever.
“They
have passed the crisis,” Edward said.
And they
had. They looked better and stronger although I knew they would never be
entirely right.
“They
have been through so much. I don’t think they could have taken much more,”
Louis murmured. Those words chilled my heart.
But it
was truth and truth must always be acknowledged.
Louis
looked tired and worried. If he wasn’t worried about the children, he was
asking me if I felt alright.
I smiled
as reassuringly as I could. I think he sensed my desire to go to Marsh, for I
wished to put flowers down there for all those who had perished in the fire
Bannion had set; my friend, Grace, among them.
If Eco
was from Hell, Bannion was destined to burn there for he used his position for
evil and for sin. But he was no more, and the evil that was within him was gone
now, too, as he was.
I began
to recall him. I hadn’t thought of him in the longest time but now I did.
Bannion, my own personal demon; Bannion, the debauched and evil Bannion who
turned his own madhouse into the flames of Hell.
Louis
saw I was troubled for I could not hide it. “What is it, Rose?” he asked. I
told him what was in my heart. I said the name of the place I swore I would try
to forget: Marsh Asylum.
“Please,
Louis, I should like to go there to see my friend’s grave… When the children
are well might we please visit there?”
He tried
to dissuade me, but when he saw he could not, he agreed. “Yes, Rose. If that is
what you really want we shall go there. Though mind, I doubt if there are
graves as such…”
As such. I understood what
he meant. Grace had been an inmate in a lunatic asylum. As I was.
As I was…
That
phrase has often gone though my head countless times. I had been there and she
was my friend.
“We will
go if you wish it Rose, so that you may honor your friend.”
I did
wish it, for I had to speak to Grace one more time.
BOOK
THREE - UNHOLY TESTAMENT - FULL CIRCLE
Vampiric orgies and satanic
rites fill the pages of this book. All of the hideous secrets of Blackstone
House are revealed. Every evil that Rose Baines was subjected to is closely
examined, as are those who committed the worst sins against her.
Chapter 1
PART ONE ROSE
PART ONE ROSE
I must
read the rest of Eco’s journal. I haven’t a choice. My children and I are held
captive on a ship staffed by vampires, overseen by the demon, Eco—a monstrous
being who calls Hell home and Satan friend. Eco, the walking embodiment of
stinking corruption; enemy to man but friend to demons and undead creatures.
Eco, who
has written an accounting of all of his sins committed during his existence. I
am reading it now. But there is still more to read; how I shall get through it,
I do not know.
He
assures me has written it for me, that I might know of his great sins and
forgive him—and if that is not horrible enough, he wishes me to love him. This
beast from Hell wants my love!
Please,
do not pull away in horror. I, too, inhabit the world of the undead as the
children do. Yes, I admit it. I am a vampire raised from death, a creature of
the blood. Yet I harm no one, nor do my children.
In
living terms, I am younger than my little ones for my undead children lived
centuries before I did—Ada and Simon perished during the witch hysteria that
swept sixteenth century France.
Those
days were filled with evil persecution, most of it perpetrated by people far
more evil than those they singled out for slaughter.
The
children were among the ones who were singled out. They died with their mother
at the end of a rope before a screaming mob. Can you imagine anything as
barbaric as hanging a mother and her children for witchcraft?
Still,
they had escaped the flames that day. Of course, that was only because there
was no more straw or wood. The populace was disappointed when the mayor
announced that the ‘family of witches’ would be hanged instead of being burned.
The crowd booed and threw whatever was at hand.
Louis
told me this; even as he witnessed the horror, he knew what he would do. He was
there watching, my beloved Louis, the righter of wrongs, the dark side’s one
true saint-like being who endeavors to do less evil than himself.
That is
what he is about. He seeks justice where there is none and life after death for
those unjustly killed. So because the world is so unfair, Louis brings its
victims back to life again the only way possible, as undead creatures.
But they
have to pass through Hell before they are raised. Even as he calls them forth,
Satan’s demons try to grab them, to populate Hell, for Satan can never have
enough of the damned there.
They
were indeed raised up. The woman, Eve, became his wife—wanton and evil and
badly marked by Hell’s evil taint. That can happen. It did to her so that she
returned different than she had been with every bad trait exaggerated.
The
children did not return tainted. Ada and Simon were as sweet as they always had
been. No demon came near; they were raised innocent and pure.
Louis
saw what she was, but he married her still, for the children wanted their
mother. And she had been, despite how she was transformed, a good and loving
mother who became so self-hating that she sought her own destruction.
Yes, I
was there in Blackstone House when it happened. She did it the time the vampire
destroyers showed up by hurling herself onto a sharpened stake, happy to
perish.
I thus
became their mother, giving my life in order to save them. That makes them my
children now!
Eco
nearly destroyed them. He staked them and then watched the results of his
act—results he had orchestrated.
Louis
did not wish me to be undead, but I knew they needed my human blood and I gave
it to them, my death paying the forfeit for my unselfish gesture.
Death
claimed me. I died and passed through Hell. Hordes of demons came at me. I
could feel the heat of Hell’s flames yet he called me forth, my beloved.
I heard
his voice shouting my name. “Rose!”
My
heart’s love raised me from that death—my Louis, a true immortal, a being
unable to be destroyed, a being without the fragility that vampires have, for
though undead, we can in fact be destroyed.
Louis
cannot for he is demon spawn, born of a human woman and a fallen angel. He is
the mirror image of his worst enemy, Eco—his cousin, who shares his heritage
but not his goodness.
Eco is
an evil abomination. Evil and madness are not always combined, but in Eco’s
case they are, for they are blended in equal amounts to form that monster.
We left
Blackstone Moor behind. Louis razed the house to the ground, hoping to expunge
its hideous past. I wonder if that is possible.
We
travelled from there and we had a peaceful existence but then the letter came.
It came with no warning, addressed to Louis from his coven in North America.
“I must
go,” he said.
He
showed me the letter written by his old friend, Jean Dubot, the coven’s master.
It mentioned a woman called Eliza and her son, Tom.
“I
raised them up,” he said. “They perished on their way to the Virginia Colony. …
I married her, Rose. I would have remained there but Eve wrote to me….”
At
first, I didn’t understand but then I did and he left.
It was
horrible being without him. We hadn’t been apart until that time. The children
tried to help by being brave for me, but I could not be comforted. I ached too
much for my beloved.
Still,
there were his letters, though waiting for them to arrive was agony. Weeks and
months passed, but then one letter came with our passage money in it. We would
be able to join him!
None of
us could believe it. We booked passage on a clipper ship the next day out of
Liverpool.
We are
aboard the Sea Mist bound for New York. Our steward has told me Louis is also
on board but he is held in the Hold, drugged and powerless. He lies amongst the
horrific stored food Eco keeps for the vampires and himself.
Eco and
his friends and crew, demons all, like the Blood Countess, Elizabeth Bathory. A
depraved murderous sadist who bathed in human blood. Eco knew her and loved
her. Can you imagine such a thing?
She is
aboard, beast that she is, still wanting Eco’s touch, still longing for the
sick love they gave one another.
And what
of Gilles de Rais, friend and aide to Joan of Arc, notorious Satanist and child
murderer? He is her husband and he is here, too!
They
hold my children now as I am forced to read the rest of the confession. How
will I manage when I cannot trust any of them, especially Eco?
There
are others of his brethren—Caligula, an evil, twisted emperor, good friend to
Eco in life, was raised to be with him after death. The bonds of their evil
friendship could not be severed.
Christianity’s
scourge, Attila, is here as well. Attila, a murdering cut throat, inspired by
the monster, Eco.
Then
there is the being that calls neither Heaven nor Hell home, but exists
somewhere in the middle—in whatever middle that might be. Do not look or call
out for him, for he will come soon enough.
Death is
here for those passengers and crew the devils feed on. Death who is always
eager for more souls—Death who always waits.
And she
is here, too—Lilith, first wife to Adam, the mother of all demons, mistress to
both Satan and Eco. Lilith, who has come to think of me as friend.
There!
Now can you see the nightmare world I exist in? I am not only undead, I am with
demons.
There
you have it…well, almost. There is a point to all of this, at least in the
monster Eco’s mind. I am requested to read his confession. It is his accounting
of every sin he has committed during the course of his entire existence. I have
already read a great deal, but there is more. There has to be in an immortal’s
existence.
It is
difficult reading, the most trying task I have ever had to undertake for I hate
and fear him. And now, his monstrous friends—the Blood Countess and Gilles de
Rais—are holding my children!
I have
no choice but to finish reading the diary of a mad demon: Eco’s unholy
testament.
BOOK
FOUR - THE FOURTH BRIDE
After the tragic and sudden death of her groom, Dia, cursed by Dracula as a babe, is taken to his castle. Once there, she is seduced and turned by the count and becomes his fourth bride. Dia's tale is full of erotic sex and graphic violence. It is a tale of love and lust but mostly of blood, for the blood is everything.
CHAPTER 1
Dia was
indeed cursed and Dracula had done it. It’s rare that a dying mother would give
her daughter to one such as I—a vampire—but truly she had no choice. She was
surrounded by vampires and demons.
“Take
care of her please,” she said. “He has bewitched my child. He has whispered
death and abomination into her ears…my own babe!”
I
promised I would; how could I not for the mother died in order that the evil
vampires could feed!
We have
endured much, my children and I, undead creatures that we are. And my husband,
too, Louis—son of a fallen angel and himself a vampire. Though demonic
creatures, we seek to do less evil than ourselves. Louis taught me that; Louis
who raised me when I perished saving the children. “Drink,” I told them. “It is
the only gift I can give you.”
I gave
them my living life in order for them to retain their undead ones. The choice
was easy. The aftermath I faced was difficult.
We went
on to exist then as best we could. And truly we lived happily and at peace for
three years before Louis received a letter from his old friend and coven master
in America begging for help. There were vampire destroyers closing in.
Louis
left at once. I felt my heart go with him. We wrote for months and then a
letter came with passage money. I was tricked into booking passage on a ship
bound for America, a ship that was seized by Eco and his crew of vampires. Eco,
the dark mirror image of Louis, also born of a fallen angel and human woman,
forced this upon us, monster that he is. My children and I were held captive by
him. And what was the fate of the ship’s captain and his passengers? They
became the vampires’ food store!
In the
face of all this horror I was urged to read Eco’s unholy testament, a document
he had written in order to confess all of his sins committed in the course of
his eternal existence. He had written it because he loved me, he said. He told
me it was the only noble thing he had ever done.
I had no
choice but to read it; that was made clear. I did read it under threat, for
Eco’s demonic friends held my children.
“Now you have something to think about. Best start
reading, Rose. You’ll do a fine job. You can concentrate better now, without
the distraction of the children.”
I had no
choice.
When I
had finished reading the journal, my children were returned to me. But what I
came to believe about Louis being held aboard ship was just another of Eco’s
cruel tricks. I realized this when the ship at last came ashore. That was when
I saw the point to Eco’s carefully orchestrated ruse. I was to attend the trial
of my husband!
Satan
was judge and Eco held the role of prosecuting counsel. The jury comprised a
selection of Eco’s friends: demons and vampires all.
Louis
was charged with being a fraud and deserting his brethren on the dark side. Had
he been convicted, I and our two children, Simon and Ada, would have been
destroyed. But Count Dracula spoke up for us. And because he was friend to
Satan and Eco both, the case was dismissed. I felt relieved, but wondered for
how long.
The last
I saw of Dracula, he was with Satan. Louis said we would face more evil and as
he said it, in the same moment, I saw Dia—the new addition to our family,
bequeathed to me by a woman who’d died on the ship at the hands of Eco’s
cohorts—reach out toward Dracula. I saw the expression in her eyes and Hell’s
strange light burning there. I knew she would have to be saved. But first, she
would have to be blessed.
Louis
said a priest would bless her for she had done nothing wrong; she did, after
all, still have her soul. I could not take her to the church, nor I thought
should Louis. We are unclean, undead things—how do we dare approach a church?
We only went in sight of one and waited. Eventually, someone saw us and a face
appeared at the door. A priest motioned us inside. It wasn’t until we were in
his hall that he gasped. “Be gone, evil things!”
“We are
what we are, but the child has done nothing wrong!” Louis pleaded.
The
priest glanced at Ada and Simon.
“No! The
little one!” I held Dia up so that he could see her. He looked carefully at
her. But his face was not kind, nor was his manner. “Why do you bring her
here?”
Louis
spoke. “We would like her to be blessed...”
The
priest looked hard into our faces. “Why?”
“Her
mother gave her into my care and died,” I explained in as steady a voice as I
could. “But before she did she told me the child had been cursed. Can you do
anything?”
He
stared so intently at me, I blanched. “I can try,” he finally said. “God’s
power is infinite... Give her to me and I will take her inside. Wait here.”
We did
wait, for we could not enter a holy place. I heard Dia scream and cry. After a
while, the priest returned. “I have blessed her. I have done as much as I could.”
He nodded sadly. “I think there is something there within her you must watch.
Be ever vigilant, for I am certain the child’s mother was correct. She has
indeed been touched by evil.”
Louis’
friends were waiting for us: Jean, Eliza and her son, the only survivors of
Louis’ old coven. Jean had defended Louis in the makeshift court.
“Come
and be with friends,” they urged. “For it is comfort and nurturing which you
need now. I looked at Louis and the children and agreed. It was best not to be
on our own, not yet.
And so
we went from that place, bound for New York State and a farm Jean had owned.
And though we were content there and far from danger, it was a difficult time.
For as much as I was pleased to be with others of my kind, I was worried about
Dia. There wasn’t a moment of any day that I didn’t watch her and fear for the
future. We remained with our friends for five years until finally Louis
suggested we return to England.
“I was
thinking about living in London. Would you like that, Rose?”
That
surprised me for I hadn’t thought of London for so long.
“Yes,
Louis. That would be good.”
Ada and
Simon were pleased for they loved London as it had been their home for
centuries. They were so good and loving to Dia except she could turn from
pleasant to strange in a moment.
Simon
thought, whatever it was, she would grow out of it. “After all,” he said. “She
is living and can change.”
I cried
when he said that. It was such a sad thing to say for this undead child who
would never grow up. Ada wept too but then she always does when I cry.
As for
Dia, she just watched me, her little hand reaching out toward my face to wipe
my tears. “No cry,” she said.
I hugged
her. Maybe she would be alright; she was only a baby really when Dracula had
cursed her. Perhaps between the blessing and time, she would change. We could
hope; and so we sailed on the steamship, Atlantic,
to England’s shores.
We
docked at the Royal Victoria Dock in London. We would take a house in St.
John’s Wood. It was quite a nice residence.
“We will
be happy here,” Louis said. And I agreed, in fact I loved it. I enjoyed the
quiet of the neighborhood, the pleasing sights and sounds of London. It was
good to be home.
Dia
began to look happier than I had ever seen her. A woman Louis knew from a coven
came to reside with us at that time. It’s always best to have one of our kind
with us.
And so
we thrived there and Dia did as well. Of course, in time, she did realize that
though she continued to grow, her brother and sister did not. I didn’t look
forward to explaining the reason for that. When I did, she said she understood
though I doubted she could.
There
were other truths to tell as well. I had to tell her I was not her real mother.
I explained her own mother had given her over to me to raise. I did not tell
her the entire truth surrounding her mother’s death until she was old enough to
understand.
I knew
nothing of the mother. All I knew was she looked to be a Gypsy, but I did not
wish to tell Dia that. So I lied a little. “I am not certain where she came
from. I think she was from the east. Her name was Nadya.”
Dia’s
eyes filled with tears and she repeated the name. “And that is why I am Dia
Nadya.”
I hugged
her and assured her how very much she was loved from the moment I took her.
“Your mother died knowing her daughter had a home.”
Dia
smiled. “What you did was a kindness. You could not have done more.”
I saw
hope then. I felt she was going to be alright. Whatever had happened was in the
past. I thought perhaps being in the bosom of our family would drive away any
evil influences.
One year
passed and then another. Eventually, a nice young man began to call on her and
they courted. His name was Edward and he was kind and forthright and seemed to
love Dia, which was all we could wish for. I was certain he would ask for her
hand, and he did.
Louis
told me he was delighted. When he noticed my expression he said I worry about
everything. That is true, but so too was my fear of a church wedding. I need
not have feared though for they have recently eloped of all things. In truth,
Dia suggested it to her fiance as it would put my heart at ease.
The
house feels empty without my daughter. All I can do is wait to hear from her
because they are bound for Italy by ship. Louis tells me not to worry.
“Let
them be, Rose. We will hear from them.”
I agree,
though I cannot stand the waiting.
(end of excerpts)
REVIEWS
eFestival of Words 2014: Best Villain, Eco/ Best Horror, The House on Blackstone Moor
.
"92 Horror authors you need to read right now"
Carole Gill -- the Blackstone Vampires series
~Charlotte Books - EXAMINER
.
"In the attempt to find the just measure of horror and terror, I came upon the writing of Carole Gill whose work revealed a whole new dimension to me. The figure of the gothic child was there. Stoker's horror was there. Along with the romance! At the heart of her writing one stumbles upon a genuine search for that darkness we lost with the loss of Stoker."
DR. MARGARITA GEORGIEVA ~ Gothic Readings in The Dark
The House on Blackstone Moor:
"Carole Gill presents a monstrous mythology that evokes Milton and makes you resent any time you must take away from finishing this fabulous read!"
RICK LANGSTON
Unholy Testament - The Beginnings
"Outstanding horror by an amazing author!! Gave me the creeps! Ms. Gil really immerses the reader in her well-crafted and frightening dark world!"
LEONARD KILBANE
Unholy Testament - Full Circle
"Is full of dark, gory, evil and heinous twist and turns which keeps your adrenaline going. Unholy Testament - Full Circle with all of the horrific things that goes on in it is just right up my alley. And believe me you definitely get plenty of evil in Unholy Testament - Full Circle. The ending left me with my mouth hanging open it was so surprising. I never expected it but I loved it."
NANCY ALLAN - Avid Reader
.
The Fourth Bride
Creepy and full of evil! Carole is by far the master story teller of vampire gothic horror. Once you pick this novel up there will be nothing more important than getting to the last page! There are more dark twists and turns than a roller coaster!
WENDE SHEETS ~ Julie's Book Review
each novel in the series is priced at $2.99
The Blackstone Vampires Omnibus
contains all four novels and is $3.99
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