The Keystone

Dru tuned him out. She couldn’t hear him with how she was worrying herself about everything. After all, this ghost could talk and tell everyone everything. She didn’t want this to be another case of accidental hunting. She didn’t know he was a friendly to vampires. He could’ve been a spy for a hunter for all she knew. And anything the stars were telling her weren’t making any sense currently.

Dru kept shaking her head. She didn’t have the words to explain her family heirarchy to him currently. Especially not when she didn’t know if he was friend or foe. She couldn’t find the right words to tell him to just shut up. It wasn’t her place to tell a gentlemen to do so either. “Don’t know. Don’t know.”

She whimpered as a response to him putting his notebook and pencil away. When he called out that he would stop she marched back over to him, clearly a little more distraught. “Friend or foe. Speak or go. Have it now. I need to know. Write and scribble and catch a dribble? Who be you? Friend or foe? Fly or spy? Already knowing and therefore died. What to do? What to say? You think this night to go this way? Speak the peace. Or be gone and may you be away before dawn.”

“Please, please, it’s alright. It’s quite alright.” Joseph didn’t know what he should do to try to help. All he could think of was to try to placate her. “It’s quite alright ma’am. Please let me try to start over. My name is Joseph Wood. I enjoy studying vampires, you see?” He tried to smile for her and took out his journal again to show to the woman. “I’ve always enjoyed such an interesting subject as yourself.”

we attack the redoubts at nightfall.

Dru blinked. Did he just? She watched him suddenly take notes. “Is this…. an interview?” She shook her head. “No no, the King won’t like it when someone comes to play in his court and he hasn’t chosen it so.” Dru started to walk away from the other. “Stars speak. I listen. And you can’t smell yet you have a nose.” She wasn’t about to explain that she could smell his lack of human smell around her.

Dru just watched him scribble away as he figured out her words and meanings. She didn’t like this at all. “Ooooooooo.” There was no choice but to sit back down on the only bench which meant being next to him.

She shook her head, putting it in her hands. “Princess said to much. This King will be cross. The Queen more so. They’ll take away the Knight if they hear of this so.” She was progressively getting alarmed. 

“NO!” The denial of being a vampire was habitual. Dru quickly stood up and walked away. This was too quick. To much to answer.  Fretting, she wandered around the garden, trying to get away from the ghost even though she could still be heard. “Too many question in the head. What answers do I give? Do I dare trust the dead, who could harm the way I live? It’s all hear. It’s not clear. This is now. This is here. Time to go but dare not go for now a trap and it’s all a slap.”

Her worrying demeanor came through. “Speak of silence and they’ll never know. For if not stopped I’ll surely be told to go. Can’t speak. Can’t… can’t….” She let out a small whine. “Not the plan. Not the plan. All that there was and now it’s not the plan.”

Joseph looked up, “Oh, yes. I apologize is it not supposed to be?” He had caught up writing all of the different things that she had said before, and his translations of them. Now though the book and graphite were returned to the pocket of his waistcoat. “I truly am sorry ma’am.” He tried again, and could have kicked himself for how terribly rude he had been. He hadn’t even introduced himself or asked for her name in return. The ghost slapped a hand against he forehead. He stood and walked away from the bench grumbling insults at himself, how could he! What sort of gentleman was so rude and caused a woman such distress! 

When he was composed again the ghost returned He had sighed and forced himself to calm down as best he could. Again it took a minute of considering before he could translate her words, though the mood was impossible to miss. “I hope that I don’t get you in trouble with your....father and mother? I believe that is who the King and Queen are?” Oh he burned to ask if they were all truly related or only a family that hat been created over decades or centuries. How long could a vampire live without intervention from a hunter, or other maladies.

Dru blinked. He… understood her? She wasn’t used to such a quick analysis. Granted he had thought about it yet still, it even took William a few times before he knew what she was saying and even then he was quicker than anyone else in the family. “Of course dearie. The stars told me.”

Fascination took over as she watched. It wasn’t common for her to find a ghost that wanted to talk to her or actually reveal their true nature around her. Most would rather avoid her. Then again, everyone avoided the insane vampire.

Dru was amused at the question. “You mean you can’t tell like I can? Hmm.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Perhaps both. There were many a reasons for the name. All depends on who you ask and who’s playing the game.”

Now that he was clear in view, Dru looked over him. She let out a smile. “You look like my brother’s old clothing. Though you seem to be… not what he was according to the stories.” Studying him, she looked him over again and tilted her head to listen to the stars. “Ah, it hides well. Pity it wasn’t Daddy who got to you. Then you could’ve been a brother. The stars like to tell all the secrets, whisper in my ears. Though even there are secrets upon secrets that are not for one to dwell.” She rose a hand to lay the tips of her fingers onto her head before setting it back down on by her side. “They rest in here. Always there and never to go. If I do wrong, well they do scream so.”

“Aha.” Joseph uttered, he opened his waistcoat and pulled a journal out of an inside pocket. The journal, just as spectral as he is, never seemed to run out of pages. Tucked within it was a small graphite holder that also seemed to never get any shorter. It was flipped open to a page and he began jotting down notes. “No I have no way of discerning such things. I hardly have a sense of smell, after all.” He thought a moment, “Is that how you know?”

He was standing, and while writing began walking slowly through the garden until stepping almost through a bench. The vague tickling sensation made the spirit stop and look down, without a word he removed himself from the bench and had a seat on it. “Your brother?” Joseph looked up with intrest. “How could you have a brother - oh - Oh!” More notes were jotted down so quickly that the graphite scratched the paper.

Drur smirked. She was wondering if the stars had gone astray this time and was pleased at the responding voice. “Come closer. I won’t cause the fright or the bite.” Dru stood up, letting the moonlight illuminate her. She tilted her head. “Can’t frighten those that bring the fright though for you, that isn’t right.”

Letting out a sigh she giggled a borderline cackle. “Depends on who you ask dearie. The stars say all is well and that I am as well. The others call me sick. One called a devil child. Though you….. come and see for yourself. Am I well?”

She grinned, “Come closer.” Dru beckoned him. “And no need to put on a show. Just walk through dearie. Won’t cause a scream here. I utter the dare you hear, will you come near.”

The ghost was curious now. He watched the woman as she stood and eyed him with a way that had him wondering what it was that she saw. It was clear the way that she spoke about the stars, and her voice drifted along that told him she was either a seer, insane, or perhaps both. Her words had to be mulled over before it was understood and interpreted what was being said. “You know that I’m already dead? Amazing!” 

Fascinated and even more curious, he accepted the invitation and stepped down from the bucket and then passed effortlessly through the wall. Joseph was only partially corporeal, hence why he was oftentimes difficult to see. There was always a weird sensation when passing through a solid object. It was like being tickled, or the memory of being tickled as sensation did not truly exist as he was. “Why do they call you a devil child? Because of what you can see? Or is it perhaps something else.” 

Sitting on a stone bench as the wind in the night blew past, Drusilla took her lone spot in the moonlight. Inhaling as the wind brought various scents that tickled her nose. She giggled and smiled. The moonlight was the next best thing for her. After all, she was still learning how to treat moonlight like sunlight. She started humming to herself. She knew William and Angelus and Darla were back in the chosen house in White Chapel, England. Angelus made sure she knew the rules. No going back to East End of London while visiting another part of London. No going anywhere without telling him. No killing without him. Pretty much don’t do anything without him.

Though this time she got to do one lone thing without any of them. This little garden that Angelus deposited her in since she begged to sit in the moonlight. The house they were in had no windows for her to access. At sunset, she was deposited. It would be before sunrise when she was picked up. She could wanted in the little gated garden. If she dared to leave, there would be consequences.

Dru giggled again. The stars were twittering in her ears. “The King isn’t here, and neither is the Knight. Both know how to approach without a fright. So who is there among the night. I know they creep. That isn’t right.”

For a ghost, there was little to be done. Joseph had been killed by a vampire who was greatly displeased with the influence that he had on their New York King, and for that, the specter chose to stay far away from his friend. Instead, he continued to work upon the treatise that the two of them had begun. The first copy was of course with Daniel, and the ghost did hope that the vampire had chosen to publish their work. As for him, the ghost allowed himself to be pulled around the world by whatever force it was that influenced being such as himself. It seemed to always deposit him into some area of great supernatural activity, and so when he found himself in some darkened city, began to explore.

Not knowing what city that he was in, Joseph could only wander. There were few people about at night and most gave him not even a passing glance. That was one thing that he had discovered early on, he could be seen easiest in dim light, and here, that did not appear to be good. Soon Joseph found himself passing a walled garden and heard a voice calling out from inside of it. 

Even once the skin was drained completely down, he simply remained in place with the leather clenched between his teeth. At the very least, it gave him something to occupy his hands and mouth for the moment. For several seconds after he was finished with it, he ceased his nursing to lift his head to watch as Joseph attempted to leave.

Breaths came slowly, almost heavy from the energy drained by having a drink, finally. “Joseph.” He exhaled the name more than spoke it, still clinging the waterskin to his chest and taking care not to make another move so long as the man before him expressed so much fear. Understandable fear.

“What was said-?”

His name froze the young lawyer in place. It did not sound like a warning or an order but he still stopped and rested his hand against the door instead. “Yes?” Not as much a whisper as how the vampire had spoken, but still slow and soft. He looked down to the vampires’ hands, clutching the leather skin, then to the holes. They weren’t neat punctures by any definition, but instead were long lacerations. Imagining that bag as his throat was not difficult and it was some time before he could answer the question.

“They,” He had to stop and swallow and attempt to remove the dryness that had taken over his mouth. Once he could speak again he tried, “The Order has expressed interest in the progress made by you being willing to speak to me, but, they have also expressed the belief that....you are attempting to lure me into complacency. That should I remove the restraints,” Rather pointedly he looked to the empty stocks and a chain that he questioned the integrity of, “that I would become your meal.” Or that the vampire would instead exercise the control required to resist draining him entirely and thus add an insider from the Order to his coven.

Timing was off - usually Joseph showed up at the cell around an hour after another man, unknown to Daniel, passed through the hallway on some unknown daily mission, which had until that day been a cue for him to return to the stocks. It wasn’t an easy process that tended to take the majority of that time. The passing man did not happen by that day, which left Daniel caught off guard by Joseph’s arrival.

By simply pretending he was settled as was expected of him, perhaps no light would be shed upon the fact that he had been misbehaving. He hesitated, unsure before reaching for the waterskin. Before fingers contacted the item, he looked up again to make eye contact. Initially a reading attempt  to decipher what was going on with the act of kindness, but it shifted into a series of expressions: suspicion of the offering, mild offense at the suggestion of thirst, a flash of gratitude for the drink, fear for his lack of restraints being noticed, then pure hunger as he failed to go about actually opening the thing and simply lifted it to his mouth and sank fangs into the leather.

The question went ignored as he proceeded to essentially curl up around the skin and nurse the water from it. The analogy of like a man dying of thirst would in this case simply be the truth.

Carefully Joseph kept himself still, the pleasant smile remained and encouraged the vampire - Daniel - to help himself to the water. It wasn’t blood, but he hoped that it would at least alleviate the pain he imagined must be felt in his throat and mouth from being so dried out. Hadn’t they fed him anything? Then the vampire surged forward and the surprised lawyer threw himself back against the door. He stayed there until it was clear that he wasn’t the target, but the water was. 

Braced on the hard floor against the door Joseph watched in amazement as the man he had been having an intelligent conversation with the day before was now ripping into the waterskin and draining it dry in a matter of seconds. The leather itself wasn’t easily teared and spoke volumes about the ferocity of his fangs, and the manner spoke to the treatment he had been given until that point. 

Motion had his eyes raised again to blink in curiosity that this man of the Order would let himself appear so disarmed in front of someone so well known to be incredibly dangerous. The effort of countering the argument would be too taxing and thus left him in silence while Joseph proceeded to get back up.

Initially, the movement had Daniel stiffened and getting ready to start amounting an attempt at defensive positions, but instead all he saw was the man dusting himself off and making to leave. He remained in silence as Joseph made his way away, but the visit had its desired affect, and upon the next instance of Joseph’s visit, he remained seated in the centre of the room without standing though his body language was still excited and hungry.

He did not wait for a greeting to come, instead simply allowed a moment of quiet before speaking a single word: “Daniel.”

When he arrived the next day, Joseph at first hesitated outside the door. He hoped, dearly hoped, that the progress made the day before would hold. A nagging in the back of his mind repeated what many of the higher-ups had told him, that the vampire was likely just trying to tempt him into complacency. But, he had promised and so after taking a moment to collect himself the young man slipped through the door and then heard the locks and chains replaced behind him.

The vampire, in the center of the room and seated calmly - or - calmer than he had been before anyway - made him smile. Immediately he opened his coat to reach in and retrieve the water he had remembered to bring. He paused and looked up. “Daniel?” For a second there was confusion and then the smile returned. “Pleased to meet you Daniel.” He finished retrieving the waterskin and held it out, then faltered. “Um.” Joseph looked between his hand and the vampire, suddenly rethinking handing it over and putting himself within reach. After a moment of hesitation he sat down - still on his own side of the room and slid it over. 

There were vampires who only ate when they absolutely needed it to survive, which lead to desperate outings in which finesse was long since out the window in the style of hunt - and then there were the ones who embraced the brutality of the nature of it all, gave in to it and allowed the perpetuation of the concept of the violent, ruthless killer. It was a stereotype warranted, but like entirely too many other things it was simply far more complicated than that.

What had previously been a continued straining at chains and an intense desire to launch himself at the painfully visible throat of the man before him, now became a weak shudder and the strength of knee which held him up gave way to the man sitting down, eyes closed and trying too hard to not look weak in the moment. It wasn’t working.

“I heard once - you can never understand another until you have experienced their lot.” He spoke slowly, clearly struggling with every syllable. “Has your Order forgotten? Forgotten that while they have never been our lot, we were  once there? No one can obey an order they do not understand.”

While he didn’t move any further into the room, Joseph also sat on the ground, though far more gracefully. Now that they were conversing and there was no more rattling of chains or snarls demanding to know what he wanted, Joseph was elated that he could return to the others in his Order and let them know that they had been about it entirely wrong. Clearly the vampire - oh he still didn’t know his name - was intelligent, he could be reasoned with. There was no need for that torments to continue, he could try to arrange to have it removed.

“They believe that there is nothing left of the person. It’s well known that the body itself is dead and most believe that the soul has departed. Some men in the Order insist that a demon resides in the body.” He stopped, an uncertain expression crossing his face. To think that he might be holding a civil discussion with a demon was not a pleasant thought. Neither was the realization that if he were to directly ask....how to know what was right? He swallowed and continued, “Hence the pain of holy symbols, and the water. They said they wanted to either exorcise the demon and heal vampirism, or subjugate it and use it as a weapon to hunt other monsters, or fight in wars.”

He was silent for twice as long as Joseph, his own growling starting to give way to some trembling of his own and soon enough take a step backwards. One little spark of human kindness, even in the form of mercy, it raised too many alarm bells. This had to be a trap - no man among this organisation would be so willing to walk into the vampire’s hold day after day and not have some kind of plan, some secret weapon. 

“Why?” He repeated the growl, though much softer now. Cautious, suspicious and in general: weak. “Throwing sigils, filling the air with oil and poison, hissing every Holy word they can at me - ” His voice was rough, too used to growling and far too dry to be entirely clear but the trained articulation within him was present. He was no random victim of vampiric circumstance, there was someone here trained in the art of law and presentation in him. Enough for him to have a month ago negotiated the trade of imprisoned covenants for himself. Six of his clan let free in exchange for their very leader. He knew it was going to kill them. Disorganised vampires cannot survive when someone as powerful as these folk were on the hunt - but better only one suffer than half a dozen realise torture.

“I don’t understand what you want.”

The rasp in the voice addressing him was registered almost as an afterthought. Just a little note in the back of his mind that he needed to bring water or something with him the next time he came down here. That the vampire was being starved to death somehow didn’t occur, he wasn’t anywhere near an expert on them. Somehow even though he knew that vampires preyed on the species they left behind, he didn’t realize that it was a survival matter, that like a cat hunting mice they were doing what they needed to. They killed brutally, sometimes mutilating bodies, how could that be hunting for food?

But the voice was weak, tired, almost wilting around the edges of words and he knew there was something wrong. Under even that, the weakness and the snarls, was the voice and tone of someone well educated. Who had this vampire been? Again he wondered if the soul still existed on this plane in the body or had been sent to heaven - prayed not to hell. Either way, the vampire sounded an articulate being and he could respect that. “They wish to tame a vampire. They believe they can control it - you - and think that torture is the only thing that a vampire will understand and respond to.” 

Every day this process repeated entirely too similar. There was no difference each time when Joseph came into the room. Always the same trembling heartbeats and stench of fear rolling off the man in waves that had his nose crinkling with something of disgust and annoyance. All of it drowned by the intense burning hunger that had him focusing on absolutely nothing but the pulsing veins less than a fraction of an inch below the skin.

Hunger made him blind and deaf to the voice. He could focus on nothing at all except how fucking close he was to a decent meal. He lunged forward again, straining at the chains and growling lowly before lowering his head slightly. 

“Why?”

As the growling continued so did his trembling. Perhaps he should have been watching the vampire’s face, after all, he’d been human once. Surely there was still a human soul in there - he wasn’t sure what his faith said about vampires. But all that he could do was stare at the chains and pray that they held tight. SO unexpected was the voice, little more than a growl itself, that for a full minute after, he couldn’t speak.