Immemorial

by

Stein Willard

© 2022

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                I

 

“Pharah, you have to try this. It’s abso-effen-lutely divine.”

Pharah stifled a groan as she turned to look at her friend. Carol was holding out the spoon dripping with a dark chocolate covered marshmallow, her blue eyes twinkling with delight. Pharah smiled as she leaned closer to sample the serving. The texture was thick, but incredibly smooth. She smiled at Carol as she swallowed the chocolaty treat.

“And?”

She shrugged. “It’s rich. Very rich.”

“Of course, it is, dummy. It’s chocolate.”

“All I know, is that this is going to cost me an extra hour at the gym tonight.” Carol didn’t need to know that the gym Pharah was referring to was actually the toilet. The gooey chocolaty mess in her stomach was already churning and looking for a way out. To distract herself from projectile vomiting the treat in public, she looked around her. It was a nice, cool evening and New Yorkers were out enjoying the blessed reprieve after a scorching day. A young couple were sharing a hotdog a few tables away, the woman allowing the guy to have a bigger piece, which saw her rewarded for it with a gentle kiss. Pharah smiled. She had dreamed of a love like that once; a long, long time ago. Her gaze moved on to a young mother and her toddler son. They were both covered in grass stains, but looked happy. Now that was something she had always wanted and could never have. A child.

“This is spectacular. You sure you don’t wanna share?”

Pharah shook her head. “Nope. Anything that good is probably not good for you.”

Carol pulled a face as she licked the spoon. “Whatever. Life’s too short to worry about things like that.”

The statement made Pharah grin. “You’re right. Have at it.” She watched her friend attack the dessert with gusto and smiled. Yes, life was really too short to not enjoy the decadent side of it. A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she spotted a man in jeans and a baseball cap chatting on his phone. She turned her head slightly. A redhead two tables over was sipping a glass of red wine. Pharah closed her eyes for a moment, before she put a smile on her face and turned to Carol.

“You know what? I forgot to fill Mrs Mumford’s prescription for her.” She rose quickly and waved Carol back in her chair, when the other woman wanted to come with her. “You stay and finish that. Give me a call tomorrow and we can make plans about the concert in the park on Saturday.”

Carol hastily swallowed a mouthful and nodded. “You be safe, ok. I’ll call you around noon tomorrow.” They exchanged a quick hug and Pharah left the restaurant, moving towards the nearest alleyway. She waited to see if Carol was watching before she ducked inside. A van was parked at the far end of the alley and she took a deep breath as she walked toward it. As soon as she reached it, the side door opened.

“Pharah.”

“Ignatius.”

Nothing more was said as she got into the van and took a seat. A minute or two later, they were joined by the man with the baseball cap and the redhead.

“Philip. Luna.”

They nodded at her as the van pulled away. They drove for about an hour, leaving the city behind and venturing into the outskirts. The van stopped before an elaborate steel gate and a man appeared at the drivers’ side window. He quietly inspected the interior of the vehicle before he glanced at an overhead camera and nodded. The gate opened and Ignatius continued, up a long winding road to the imposing three-story mansion. There were cars parked outside in the driveway, but Ignatius drove around the house to the back entrance. He put the car in park and sat quietly as she and the other two disembarked. She took a few steps, but stopped to look at the vehicle. Ignatius was looking at her, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

She nodded and followed Philip and Luna into the house. She hadn’t been here in a very long time, but nothing had changed. They walked down a long corridor to a door, which she knew led down to the massive underground bunker. The bunker was silent as a grave, but the stench of fear was almost suffocating. They entered a room where about ten people sat quietly and with blank expressions. Philip and Luna nodded at her before they left and Pharah took a seat next to the last person. It was a young man with beautiful, delicate features. His face was devoid of expression, but his eyes held a deep sadness. They didn’t speak. What could two strangers say to each other, after all?

A large man dressed in complete black entered via an electronically operated door. He looked at the woman sitting nearest to the door and she stood to follow him through the door. Pharah made a quick calculation. It would still be a while before she was up. What to do to make the time pass more quickly? She looked around the room. It was nowhere near a doctor’s waiting room with calming pastel colours and stacks of outdated magazines. Instead, the hollow room had a draft and the walls were raw, unpainted concrete. Bleak and cold. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

How she missed her mother right now. The woman would know what to say to make this whole exercise a little less dreadful. But her mother was no more. She had died a very long time ago; still beautiful and leaving a huge hole in the hearts of those who had adored her.

She wondered what her mother would say about the situation she found herself in right now. A reluctant smile formed on her lips. She would’ve been proud, Pharah decided. What she had done to end up where she was right now, had been her following her mother’s advice.

Never compromise on happiness, my darling. Rather go without, than settle for less.

Yes, Rebecca had been a woman way ahead of her time. Whereas other women were too frightened to upset the status quo, her mother had revelled in bruising the tender egos of the men around. They hated, feared and admired her at the same time. Imagine being the daughter of a woman who believed that her girl child could accomplish, and even surpass, the boys in anything deemed too masculine for a pretty blonde girl. Nope, she wouldn’t cower at the demands of a man. Never. She was her mother’s daughter through and through.

Well, mother, I didn’t compromise on happiness. Not after you worked so hard to convince me that I was as good as anyone else. I wished you were there to see me. You would’ve been proud of me.

She took a deep breath. Oh, how her life had changed. 

***

Fulwirth Keep, England, AD 997

“Milady! Milady!”

Lady Pharah de Mowbray looked up from the text she was interpreting to see her chambermaid storming into the reading room. “What have I told you about screeching like a raven, Beatrice?”

The young girl blushed and curtsied quickly. “My apologies, Lady Pharah.”

“So, what is it that had you forget your manners, young lady?”

“Lord Edgar and his son have arrived. Shall we prepare a meal for them?”

Pharah closed her eyes for a moment before she nodded. When will it end? The endless parading of young noblemen for her to choose from. She didn’t need a husband. Not just yet. Her parents were barely cold in their graves and the vultures were already circling.

“Yes, Beatrice. Make them comfortable while I prepare myself. Make sure that Master Ervard, as well as Friar Norbert, are also present.”

“Yes, milady.”

When the door closed behind the young woman, Pharah stood and walked over to the window. It was late. Too late for a suitor to come calling. Since her parents’ accident, leaving her unsupervised by a male guardian, every man in the kingdom was vying for her hand in marriage. Not only was she believed to be the most beautiful woman in the region, she was also a very rich heiress. Her uncle was off fighting the Danes who were relentless in their raids on the south-eastern coasts of the country. Had he been here, she could’ve negotiated her way out of a marriage, but in his absence, King Ethelred served as her male guardian. If Lord Edgar was here, then it could’ve only been with the blessing of the king.

She was a woman, but she wasn’t blind to the greed of man and their scheming. King Ethelred coveted her riches to fund his many military campaigns against neighbouring kingdoms and most assuredly, against the marauding Danes. He couldn’t just confiscate her fortune, no, he had to go about it much more shrewdly. Marry her off and ask a King’s ransom, literally, from the man who marries her, to be taken from her wedding dowry. He might not have accompanied Lord Edgar and his son to Fulwirth Keep, but his presence would be felt.

With a quick glance in the mirror, she patted her blonde hair and, steeling herself for the confrontation, left the reading room. She had hoped to have the text decoded before the end of the week for Friar Norbert to review, but the constant stream of men had set her back by at least another week. She prayed this visit ended as uneventfully as the previous seven.

When she entered the dining hall, the men rose and she curtsied. Lord Edgar was a handsome man, even for one who had lived at least fifty or so seasons. His son, on the other hand, was more handsome. Tall, wide-shouldered and with beguiling blue eyes. They would make an attractive couple and have good looking offspring. But that was not what was important.

If she was to shackle herself to a man for the rest of her life, she wanted the assurance that the sacrifice was worth it. Her mother’s words played in her head. Pharah wasn’t going to compromise on happiness.

“Lady Pharah, your beauty is far more arresting than the rumours that have reached my ear.”

She smiled at the compliment. The downfall of men stems from their inability to acknowledge that not all women are the same. Some feeble-headed girls loved hearing about their beauty and others, like her, wanted to hear news about what was transpiring in the closed-off rooms of King Ethelred’s Court. It was, after all, there that they made laws that pertained to women, without a single woman present.

“Thank you, milord.” She took a seat and they followed suit. “Were you held up during your trip?”

Lord Edgar frowned. “No. Why do you ask?”

“It’s rather late for a visit. Not that I wouldn’t be honoured to accommodate you for the night.”

“You are most gracious, Lady Pharah.” Lord Edgar turned to his son, whose eyes had not left Pharah since she entered the anteroom. “Please, let me introduce my son, Ignatius. He has been selected by King Ethelred to lead his army against the Danes in a moon's time.”

She studied the handsome man. Lord Ignatius looked anxious. Could it be that he was actually worried that she might not approve of him? That was preposterous. This was the era of the man. They didn’t care about whether or not their attentions were welcomed or returned. No, the film of sweat dotting Lord Ignatius’ brow was not for her benefit. The man’s eyes slid from hers and darted over to where a heavily-cloaked man stood. Pharah followed his gaze and almost immediately felt a chill run down her spine. There was something off about the man. Something evil. She glanced at Ignatius and this time his beautiful blue eyes held regret. It deepened her anxiety and she turned to Lord Edgar, only to see the cloaked man move out of the corner of her eye. He removed the cape with a flick of his thin, pale hand and Pharah’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of the malevolent red eyes.

“Well done, gentlemen. You played your roles with exquisite skill. Sadly, it has to end here.” He moved with breath-taking speed and the obscene sound of sucking could be heard. Horrified, she watched as the man's mouth was latched to her maid’s neck. The young girl’s terror-filled eyes were wide and her mouth opened in a soundless scream. Pharah’s eyes followed the rivulets of blood as they slid down Beatrice’s pale neck to stain her light blue uniform. With immense difficulty, Pharah pulled her gaze from the macabre scene to look at Lord Edgar and found him staring at his feet.

“What…what kind of creature did you bring into my house?!” She grabbed his arm, but the man gave her a meek look. “Why aren’t you doing something to stop it?” When the man simply looked at her with pain in his eyes, the truth sunk in.

She was about to die!

That monster would suck her dry as he was doing to Beatrice right now. When he tossed the girl’s limp body aside, Pharah took a careful step back.

“Get the guards!”

The monster laughed— a screeching sound that made them all cover their ears. He wiped his blood-stained mouth with his hand and lewdly licked it clean.

“They are all dead, milady.”

Friar Norbert began to recite the Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel and she turned to him, hope flickering to life again. The priest was holding up his cross as his voice climbed higher and carried across the room as he came to stand in front of her, shielding her from the wicked gaze of the creature.

“Ah, my dear man, your god has forsaken you the moment the maid invited me into your house.” He slowly approached them and Pharah jumped when she felt a touch on her shoulder. She craned her neck and found her long-time manservant standing behind her. He appeared just as scared of the fiend facing them, but the determined glint in his eyes signalled his intent to defend her to the death.

Her dearest Ervard. He had been her most loyal servant for fifteen of her twenty-three years. To lose him in such a senseless manner cut her deeply. She had hoped to see him get married one day and have his own children one day. If ever she had trusted and loved a man besides her father, it was him. He had guarded her with the patience of a father and loved her with the same zeal. 

The creature was almost upon them now and Friar Norbert’s grip on the cross tightened visibly. The small beads around his wrists clanked as his hand shook, no doubt in terror. What they were facing had no name, but that it was a demon was no mistake. 

“You humans are such frail creatures. Delicious, but weak.” His hand shot out and a thin red mist arched through the air. The creature opened its mouth, its vicious fangs immediately staining red. It took her a moment to realise that it was Friar Norbert’s blood that she saw spraying into the mouth of the demon.

“NO!” She grabbed the man close, but the creature was suddenly very close, his red eyes challenging her. “Please,” she begged. “Leave him. Take me instead.” The red eyes blinked once before the creature cocked his head to the side.

“Interesting,” he growled before he slammed his fangs into the friar’s neck, his eyes never leaving hers as he drank. It was hard to watch, but Pharah refused to look away. If she was going to be next, then this demon would take her life with the knowledge that she hadn’t cowered from it. He finally tossed the lifeless body of her friend aside and wiped his stained mouth with the back of his hand.

“You are truly refreshing,” he murmured as he pulled her to him. “I’m lucky to have crossed paths with you.” His last words were whispered in her neck.

She gasped when she felt his teeth puncture her skin. It hurt tremendously, but just as quickly it passed. She stood stiffly in the creature’s embrace as it drank from her, deeply and greedily.

Finally, her sight began to dim and she closed her eyes. It wouldn’t be long now and she would be reunited with her mother.

A soft chirp startled her from her reverie to find everyone looking at her. She reached inside her pocket and glanced at the lit screen.

About to leave here. Where are you?

Pharah closed the message and turned off the device. She wasn’t going to answer the text. Nor would she have any need for the device anymore. Leaning back, she closed her eyes as she crushed the phone in her hand. This was her last link with the outside world.

“I threw mine in a manhole.”

She opened her eyes and turned to the young man next to her. He looked even sadder than before.

“At least you’re sure they won’t find it.”

He quickly looked away.

“I doubt it.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed with difficulty. A kindred spirit, she thought. Just like her, he had adapted to human life. His mannerisms were a dead giveaway. “My lover won’t give up. He’s very stubborn.”

Her heart bled for the man and she couldn’t help but wonder what had brought him to this stage in his life.

“I’m sorry,” she ended up saying as she avoided looking at him. She was leaving a lot behind—good friends and a satisfying life. He, on the other hand, was leaving behind his heart. How would he survive without his heart, where they were going? In 1025 years of existence, she had only truly been in love once and that had been a very long time ago. Many women had followed since, but after Ayla, it had been easy to distinguish lust from love.

“Me too,” he muttered under his breath.

The silence that fell between them was only broken by the man in black’s return. He stared at the next person in line. The man didn’t move; still, the guard waited. Everyone was waiting to see how this would play out.

“Next!” the guard barked.

“No.” The man looked up in defiance. “I demand an audience with the Council. My case has been grossly misjudged and I want another chance to present my side.”

“Next!” the guard repeated.

“I said I want to…” the man pressed on.

Enough.”

The room fell silent like the tomb it was. The word floated in the air, uttered in a soft, measured tone and it struck cold terror in the hearts of everyone seated in the queue. Even Pharah found herself deeply shaken. She had thought she had made peace with her destiny a long time ago. Apparently not. At that very moment, she was so scared; rendered completely motionless by the quiet authority in that single word. The fear in the tomb had risen further until it felt almost suffocating.

The man who had been arguing with the guard, docilely climbed to his feet and preceded the guard through the electronic door. It closed with a soft snick, the sound echoing through the large area. Scared to think what was awaiting her behind that door, Pharah decided to reflect on her life and the one choice that had brought her to this terrifying moment.

COMING SOON:

 

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