Acacia Chronicle

Night #5, and Claire de la Lune’s dark rebirth…

Claire de la Lune lay upright against a pillow with her eyes wide open and stretched to the edges of her cheekbones, her wrists and ankles clasped by steel manacles leavened with silk. Her mistress, Elena de L’Enfer, stood close by, the red sleeves of her hooded longcoat easily within reach.

“Elena, you have it close, don’t you? Blood…? I can sense it, and I must…”

Her beloved Elena was close, so very close. Mixing something, with an allure that lingered powerfully in the air like a divine temptation. And this temptation carried with it, for Claire, the promise of salvation from the pain and dizziness that she felt within every pore and fibre of herself, that was now tearing her apart. Piece by piece, as though her body and soul were little more than biscuits.

Indeed, she could envision her heart’s desire so lucidly within her thoughts, even if everything else was all but a blur in her mind’s eye. And she could envision it so keenly, the eternity of pure ecstasy that was sure to follow swiftly in its wake should her desires be granted, and the relief that would certainly ease this gnawing hunger of hers. Forever.

“Please… I must, my love… I MUST! BLOOD…! Or else, I’ll…”

With gritted teeth and saliva running down her chin, Claire thrashed against her bindings with renewed vigour. She pulled against them erratically and wildly, with all her might. And when her struggle proved to be ultimately futile, she screamed herself hoarse as tears blotted out her vision.

“It’s torture… this waiting…! You’re hurting me, Elena, my love… please…? I’ll do anything, for you… anything you desire of me, if you’d just…”

When Elena reacted with nothing more than silent indifference, Claire gnashed her teeth and bared them at her mistress with a guttural hiss. With renewed fury, she thrashed as violently as she could against her bindings with all the strength she could muster, once again.

“DON’T IGNORE ME… DAMN YOU! I KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE IN THOSE HANDS OF YOURS… THE BLOOD! I CAN SENSE IT… SO CLOSE TO ME! IT’S RIGHTFULLY… MINE…!”

Her strength had failed her, once again in her time of need. It hurt so very much, being so close yet so out of reach of her heart’s desire. And she could only wonder, in her throes of teething pain and gnawing hunger – why? How dare her mistress, and how could she do this?

“I KNOW… NOW! YOU WANT IT ALL FOR YOURSELF… DON’T YOU…? THIS BLOOD, THAT’S MINE BY RIGHT…”

It was the only logical conclusion Claire could make, in light of it all. And it made her seethe with righteous anger as she eyed the sheer callousness of Elena’s every move, made her bristle with fury when she considered how her mistress was so cruelly ignoring her pleas for something so simple and within reach. That, of which she was certain, would so easily make the pain go away.

“GIVE ME THE BLOOD… DAMN YOU! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU KNOW…? JUST LIKE WHAT YOU DID… TO ANNA… TO ME… IT’S ALL BECAUSE… OF YOU, THAT WE’RE ACCURSED… YOU MURDERER!”

But just as easily and freely as they had spilled forth from her like a raging tide, Claire’s words were silenced at the sight of a bowl being offered to her by Elena. It was filled to the brim with the crimson nectar that she craved with every inch of her heart and soul combined, and she attacked it with everything she had. And she swallowed as much of its crimson contents as she could, her jaws crunching savagely through blood and ceramic alike while her lips and chin ran red with bloodstains.

“MORE… BLOOD. More, I need…”

And yet, despite her words, she felt her voice weaken into wordless silence. Slowly, with her mistress’s firm grip easing her every move, she fell back against her pillow, her eyes closing themselves shut as her breathing slowed into a rhythmic serenity. Gone was the teething pain and gnawing hunger, lost in the throes of darkness and scarlet dreams.

Later this night, a few hours before dawn…

In silence and by dying candlelight, Elena sat upon the edge of Claire’s bed. Before the gaze of her crimson eyes, spent shackles, bloodstains, and shards of broken pottery littered the floor around her booted feet, remnants of a newborn Vampire’s first meal.

Now, there was nothing left to do but wait. And it was, in a way, the worst part of it all. The waiting. Even if the cocktail of blood and wine had worked well enough to pacify a newborn Vampire’s feeding frenzy, only time and hope could help her in her belief that this first meal would leave a lasting impression upon her beloved’s psyche. That somehow, with repeated exposure, it would permanently shape her vampiric taste for blood as it did the Caliph’s.

Truly, it was easily the worst part of this entire ordeal. And amidst this waiting, one stray piece of bloodied pottery that lay closer to her than the others in a bloody pile, caught her eye. She stuck her foot out towards it lazily, dragging it close and grinding her heel upon its ceramic surface until it cracked and split itself into bloodied fragments. And then she kicked it away just as absentmindedly as she had crushed it, hurtling the pieces across the carpet to join the greater mess of bloodstains and shards.

When that was done, Elena turned towards Claire, who was now fast asleep and unshackled. She placed a hand upon her beloved’s cheek, gently caressing it with her fingers. Her skin was soft and clean, light with the scent of blood that had been wiped away with towels soaked thoroughly in warm water. And it felt so good to touch, so good that she found herself leaning in closer, gently planting a kiss upon her beloved’s lips.

“Elena…?”

“Damn it… did I wake you?” Elena asked, as she did her best to hide the necromantic green blushed upon her face while Claire smiled weakly at her. “Sorry. Got a little carried away looking at you, is all…”

“It’s okay, my love…” Claire answered, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper as she slowly forced herself into an upright position. “I think I’ve had my fill of sleeping, I… ah!”

Reaching in quickly, Elena embraced her beloved. Now, she was cold, just like herself. No longer, did her body possess the mortal warmth she enjoyed so much. And her eyes, now carried a vampiric taint within their brown irises, a sign of the suppressed hunger that was sure to return, time and time again.

“Easy, there…” Elena whispered, easing Claire back towards the sanctuary of her pillow. “Lie down for a little longer, won’t ya?”

“I don’t know why, but I feel a little… light-headed…”

“It happens, yeah. I mean, you’ve been through quite a lot…”

“Have I…?”

“Yeah. You don’t remember a thing?”

With a slight frown upon her lips, Claire pressed a hand against her forehead.

“I think I do, actually. It’s a little fuzzy… but I was screaming, thrashing… shouting…”

“You were rather feisty, that much I can attest,” Elena remarked in reply, grinning mischievously. “I’m glad I prepared for the worst, really. And I’m proud of ya, for being such a toughie despite my best efforts…”

“There are eight of them…” Claire stated, both slowly and thoughtfully as she counted the bloodied shackles upon the floor. “Eight... and that was all… me?”

“Two for each limb, yeah. Can’t risk you breaking free and taking a big bite outta me, no? I needed time to prepare the blood and wine, because it has to be mixed on the spot, and…”

With a tearful gasp out of the blue, Claire covered her mouth.

“Oh, no! I remember now! I can’t believe, that I… said such horrible, horrible things to you!”

“Right, about that little bit…” Elena answered, as she leaned in to embrace her beloved, once more. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve heard far better wisecracks, y’know? Really!”

“Are you… sure?” Claire asked, as tears ran down her cheeks. “I can’t believe, that I…”

With a smile, as they looked each other in the eye, Elena shook her head.

“If I’m being honest? It hurt a little, hearing it from you. But at the same time, I don’t blame ya at all. Because back there, you weren’t… Claire de la Lune.”

“Elena, I’m so…”

“Nope! Don’t finish. I’d rather you’d say that other line,” Elena whispered, as she gently placed a gloved finger upon Claire’s lips. “Y’know, after I apologised for being all mopey with you a few nights back…”

Leaning back upon her pillow, and with tears running down her eyes, Claire sniffled and mustered up the strongest smile she could.

“Elena, I love you.”

“Heh, that’s more like it. Hell, to think that I was gonna strangle you in your sleep, for saying all those nasty things to me…”

“Elena…” Claire whispered tearfully, as she frowned at the cheekiness of mistress’s grin. “Don’t joke about this…”

“Oh right… my bad,” Elena answered, scratching nervously at the back of her head. “Should’ve known better, eh? And I’m, uh…”

When Claire shook her head, Elena bit down upon her tongue. And with a smile of her own, she blushed a necromantic green.

“I love you, Claire.”

“That’s better, my love.”

“Yup. In fact…” Elena declared triumphantly. “From now on, let’s just keep doing that! For our apologies in the future to each other, for any and all of our mistakes. Language of love, y’know?”

“Yes, we should… always,” Claire said in reply, nodding in agreement as she drifted off to sleep, once again. “It’s a little childish, but I like it…”