Black Angus – Chapter 2
This is a working draft and not a final product.
Content Warnings:
Domestic Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Eating People, Dismemberment/Permanent Injury, Animal Death [domestic]
In which Angus changes his identity.
Gryllcrosse
Every day, at the 15th hour, Thad would arrive at Esther’s door and Esther would typically greet him. If she did not answer him, he was to leave behind nothing and come back again at the same time the following night. He would deliver her mail, the morning paper, and any other items of her request. She would smile, pay him, hand over her outgoing mail, and a shopping list if she had one. Esther never had Thad pick up food of any sort for her; though she would occasionally ask for edible things, like salt, oil, ethanol, or vinegar. He knew very little about the petite, plain-looking woman, and even less about her substantially more attractive housemate. From what he could gather, Thad figured Esther to be a notary, a diplomat, or perhaps a lawyer. She worked late hour, always paid expenses up front, and frequently dispatched thick, serious-looking parcels to colleagues in distant countries.
To-night, when Thad delivered Esther her mail, she immediately went for the day’s paper. She had asked for two additional publications on this occasion —of the more sensational variety. Esther quickly skimmed all three before unburdening Thad of his delivery, lightly clicking her tongue as she folded the final publication neatly under her starched, burgundy sleeve. Horrific illustrations mosaicked the cover page.
“My cousin’s alive,” she drawled, “I expect he’ll be visiting. You won’t come by to-morrow —I’ll see you the day after.”
This was an ordinary request. From time to time, Esther would demonstrate she had a social life by attending parties or having guests of her own visit. It was customary for Thad to not disturb her on those nights, for which she’d always give notice.
Esther compensated Thad for that night’s work and sent him away. She did not touch her mail after the young man left. Instead, sitting in the center of her firmly stuffed loveseat, she unfolded the graphically illustrated newspaper and read the front page twice more. She shook her head, wide-eyed and exasperated as she folded the paper back up in her lap. Running a curved ring finger over her ear, she combed her stray hairs back into her sagging bun.
She relocated to her desk, her mind drifting to Edwina, who had already risen without her and left for work. Esther hoped that she would return early with something to eat. Lately, Edwina hadn’t been coming home until 4 hours past mid-night. The girl was a tall beauty who liked conversation, laughter, music, dancing, and being out in the streets with the rest of the world; all things Esther avoided when she could —all things Esther would have to endure again if Edwina left her for good.
The company Edwina provided was appreciated, but much like Thad, Esther needed her for more pragmatic reasons. Edwina allowed her time to focus on her work, earn their household an income for sensible things, and, most importantly, demonstrate value to their family.
The idea of one having something to offer to their community was a virtue Esther struggled at relaying to young vampires, who were all so cocksure they could go at it alone. If one provided a service -something unique to them that couldn’t easily be sourced elsewhere- then it would encourage their cousins to offer assistance during times of need. Despite what capabilities one may have, landing in compromised situations over a vampire’s lifetime was inevitable. Neophytes who comprehended this tended to be the sorts who would live past the 150-year mark. Those who believed themselves to be perpetually untouchable didn’t last so long.
It seemed that any day now, Edwina might conclude that Esther was dead weight —that the security Esther provided was something easily attained. Then Esther would be forced to engage with society again. Out there, she would find a new pretty-but-needy girl, and ask her if she wanted to live forever with her in her large, elegant home. Alternatively, every century she grew fonder of the thought of breeding cats.
Her front door opened. Esther glanced at the clock; it was not yet the 17th hour. Even during their honeymoon Edwina was never home so early —a client then. She straightened the papers on her desk and stood, smoothing out her skirts.
A pair of footsteps sounded through the unlit vestibule, accompanied by a series of light, jovial clicks. Angus entered Esther’s office, dressed most unfortunately in stained trousers and a jade shirt a size too large for his lean frame, with lead in hand, escorting a medium-sized pup with long, shaggy black fur.
“Have you eaten?” Angus gestured to the happy animal. Esther wrinkled her nose.
“I have something on the way for me,” she answered, giving a wave of her hand, suppressing the part of inside of her that couldn’t stand waiting for blood —ever. “I thought you were dead until a couple of hours ago. I read about your execution.”
“What changed your mind?”
Esther offered the newspaper with all of the horrible illustrations to him. “Your body went missing. Three dead. Evidence of robbery and witchcraft. —Sloppy work that could put us all in danger. Whatever you’re about to ask me for, you better consider carefully.”
Angus glanced down at the paper in his left hand. He sat into an arm chair square between Esther’s desk and the loveseat, scruffing the spaniel’s silky neck with his right.
“I was in danger, Es. I didn’t have time to make careful decisions. They locked my soil up with the rest of my things —so I had to go back for it. You know I couldn’t leave without it.”
Esther held her chin level without looking his way. “Then perhaps you should have considered dying,” she responded, prim and unconvincing.
Angus draped his eyelids, turning his head her direction in feigned unamusement, but she did not meet his eyes back. “I read this already. Did you see to-day’s Lady Gaunt cartoon? Very funny,” he lifted the limp paper she’d given him, “Midgate Prison is haunted by a witches familiar —a black hound.” He worked his hand more vigorously up the scruff of the dark-haired animal next to him.
“The witch was sentenced to death, but before he could be executed, his fellow prisoners, starving, killed and ate him,” Angus flashed a vicious smile, his umber eyes dazzling with excitement, “In the days that followed, the black hound appeared, slaughtering the prisoners. Then, he started making his way through the guards. Sightings of the dog have been reported ever since. It would appear . . . I’m off the hook.”
Angus continued smiling playfully at Esther, unblinking, barely masking the challenge lying beneath. Esther finally deigned to look his way, her chin pivoting smoothly in his direction, meeting his gaze with cold regard.
“It would seem that,” she began, “you are near supernatural in how lucky you are, Angus. If only there were a way to substantiate proof of it. Then your continued existence might actually be worth something to me.”
Angus reached into his trouser pocket, “Seeing how I’ve recently been executed, I’m in need of a new name. I can pay you.” He placed the trinkets he’d robbed from Midgate’s strongbox on her desk, gathered in a silk handkerchief. Esther nudged a ring with the end of her fountain pen.
“Some of these are silver,” she hissed, “You expect me to trade these for coin myself?”
“I could have it done. Though I imagine you’d find a higher price than I could.”
Esther sniffed sharply, pulling a thick folder of documents from her desk drawer and placing the handkerchief with its contents within in the same motion. She rolled her right sleeve up to her elbow, “Very well. What’s your new name then?”
“Sansgen.”
“‘Without Family’?” Esther scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Angus, you have a family. Perhaps the biggest one in the world.”
Angus flirtatiously tilted his head back at her, “Come on, just let me act clever.”
Esther’s pen flicked neatly over a thick sheet of paper. Angus had always found the rhythmic scratching of Esther’s work oddly soothing. Massaging the throat of the dog sitting between his calves, he watched her work in focused silence.
“Tell me, will you be respecting my craft this time around?,” Esther asked with a sigh, “Or should I expect to see you again in another seven years? Truthfully, I’ve seen enough of you lately to last quite a long time, a man’s lifetime, at least.”
She did not look up, working quickly, lifting the paper to give the ink a light blow when she finished speaking. Angus ignored her, which irked her to pry further. She set the first sheet aside and started her pen on a new document.
“By the way, there’s just one more price for my services: You must tell me what happened. The whole story. How in the Otherworld did you end up in prison?”
She bothered to briefly meet his eyes as she asked the question; a demonstration that her curiosity was genuine, not forced small talk. Angus shifted in his seat, lowering his mask to reveal an emotion that wasn’t unbounded confidence. His tongue pressed firm against the back of his teeth as he chose his next words.
“Originally, I’d thought I had found myself in a good situation —the kind we all fantasize about. I was approached by a woman at a party who had seen me around, and guessed at my nature. She asked if we could discuss the subject privately on a different night.” Angus chuckled, “Of course, I could guess what she was after, but, for whatever reason, I felt intrigued, so I agreed. The following week, I met the woman, Beth, and her husband, Mikael, for ‘dinner’ at their house.”
Angus shrugged, embarrassed, “They had an enchanting set-up. I was unattached to anyone in particular, living alone in a simple apartment . . . They each let me feed off them that night, completely understanding that I’d need more time before offering them such a great gift in return. So, when they invited me to stay; that I could have my own room; that they would continue to feed me: I accepted. I thought I was sitting rather pretty, like one of the little neighbors had taken a shine t’ me.”
“Idiot! So you let them keep you as their pet?” Esther set down her pen to gather her frustration. “I . . . I do understand. It’s a mistake many of us make. I just thought you were smarter than that.”
“So did I,” Angus replied, staring into a far-off space in the pattern of Esther’s office rug. Black curls hung over his face. He trailed his hand over the dog’s floppy ears. The beast rested his warm jaw on top of his knee.
“Continue,” Esther waved her open palm in offering. She resumed penning Angus’s new papers.
“I didn’t catch on right away. They . . . ,” Angus wet his tongue, “I think they had to sort out the formula for themselves. At first, they’d have me alternate who I fed from each night. But then, sometimes, we’d skip nights entirely. They told me it was too much, and I believed them. It likely was. Beth especially; she had the arms and legs of a farm girl, but she seemed to be sickly. Sometimes her skin seemed to be as cool as my own. The stakes were probably much higher for her. I could fend for myself easily enough. As we adjusted to our new routines, though, I suspect . . . I suspect that they meant to keep me weak on purpose.”
Esther shook her head, her loosely tied bun swaying behind her, “Of course they did. Scheming animals.”
“Most nights, I was so starved that the taste of human blood would make me mindlessly intoxicated. I’d become so without myself, that it made our arrangement feel much more fair than it was. I didn’t care for either of them in that way, but they liked to, ahem, have me together at the same time. It didn’t matter to me as long as I got what I wanted.
“Es, I was so weak . . . I couldn’t,” he gestured to his lap, “and they liked it that way. They liked that they had power over me. Beth —I mentioned that I met her at a party; she liked to throw parties too. It was never meant to be believed, of course, but she’d use me as a novelty: Their Friend, The Vampire. People loved it. Guests would make shallow cuts on their arms and let me taste them with my tongue. I was a spectacle; I allowed myself to be.”
Angus sat quietly for a moment. He watched Esther make her precise marks, waiting for her to say something, for her to chide him the way he deserved for his foolish decisions. She eventually looked up, released from her deep focus and suddenly aware of his apprehension.
“Dear, we’ve all been hungry before. —Is there more?”
Angus cleared his throat. Esther had been right about what she’d said earlier. She was doing him a great favor by forging him a new identity before he’d even lived a man’s full lifetime in the previous one. He would tell her everything —because it was what she had asked of him.
“I wanted their house. The place was stunning. I began to covet it from that very first night. But however many times I tried to make my intentions clear, they wouldn’t budge. I thought it was a fair bargain.”
“It most certainly is,” Esther concurred, “—especially for two.”
“Thing is, I don’t even think they wanted it that way. Each of them went behind the other’s backs, luring me into their marital bed with their blood. They’d use me selfishly, then be taken away by the most ridiculous post-coital delusions, thinking that the bliss they felt must have been mutual. Each of them whispered into my ear about killing the other, so that ‘the two of us could be together.’ They were infatuated with the fantasy of living forever —just not with each other. I understood, of course, I didn’t want to spend forever with them either.
“It was clear at this point that none of us could ever get what we wanted. I knew that I had to get out, but I had very little privacy, my food supply was limited, and I owned few possessions. At the least, I knew I would have to regain my strength before I tried to make it out on my own again, but I never got far enough to start planning. My body was in a far worse state than I had realized.”
His body drew rigid. Angus’s hands had drifted away from the animal’s dark coat and were now clutching at the loose material gathered at his waist from the oversized shirt.
“Beth hosted another one of her parties. She’d made some new friends and was eager to show me off. They were a pair of women. I remember because one of them was on their cycle. I was with Mikael and one of his friends. They were talking about something, but I wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying because the man had shaved recently, and I was fixated on a patch of razor burn that ran along his jaw. I must have looked awful, the way those women stared at me. Beth introduced us all. They didn’t smile, they just . . . looked straight into my eyes and somewhere past me as they each shook my hand. Then Beth looked mischievously at her new friends and said to them, ‘Angus is a vampire. Would you like to see?’
“The women didn’t respond. They just watched as Beth drew a paring knife from her skirts, and took her husband’s hand in her own, making a shallow cut between his thumb and his wrist. There were some shrieks, shortly followed by thrilled laughter, as I lunged for his hand immediately. Other curious folks from nearby drew in closer to observe. I was supposed to never use my teeth at parties, but after two, maybe three laps of the cut it had already become quite dry. It wasn’t even a thought —I mauled the wound deeply. People all around us were screaming, but I ignored them as I bit into his arm, over and over, until it was ragged, his hand barely even hanging on by then. The blood wasn’t coming quickly enough, though. I grabbed Mikael by his head, his eyes bulging and his face contorted, yelling at me to stop, and I bore down into his neck, pinning him to the ground as I did so. That’s when the party guests pulled me off him. I lashed at them, too, but the large men who’d grabbed me did well at restraining me. At some point during all of this, some other guests had run out to the streets to get help from the city watch. They shackled me and threw me into the cells. That’s all there is to know.”
The spaniel pup had wandered to Esther’s desk, trailing its lead behind with its shaggy, chocolate-colored tail. It investigated her ankles, sniffing the sheer, lace-trimmed socks that bloomed from her modest, kitten-heeled shoes. Esther tolerated the beast, however, regarding her peer sympathetically. She’d moved through her existence with great care, making her own mistakes, but few so serious as others she’d known. Angus’s story was abysmally common, but each time she’d heard it, it was as if the person reciting the words believed themselves to be the first and only creature to ever act so foolishly. She perceived the shame he felt, how singularly he felt it as his own, rather than the affliction of their people. Esther lifted the document she’d just finished penning and pressed an embossing stamp into its corner with practiced precision.
“It’s less than what they deserved, dear. A real shame that you lost your opportunity to drain them where they slept, but you did well denying them what they wanted. The last thing our family needs is yet more vampires who only care about themselves.”
Angus shifted the toe of his shoe into the pile of her rug, “I disliked them very much, but I don’t think they deserve to die.”
Esther straightened in her chair as she turned, ready to make a catty remark at him, but past the dark passageway of the vestibule, new signs of life announced themselves, clittering at the front door.
“Oh, that must be Edwina with dinner! She’s early!” Esther rose from her seat and scurried to the armchair where Angus sat, its back facing the threshold, resting her ink-flecked arm across its crest. Unsure of what to do with himself, but feeling that it would be impolite to remain seated, Angus rose from the chair and beckoned the dog back away from the desk. He made a point to bow out, just as Edwina entered the office with her flouncing braids and curls, airy laughter, and a meek-looking, bespectacled fellow held tight in her arm and deep in his drink.
“I’ll leave you ladies to it then,” he said, tipping his chin to Edwina in silent greeting, holding the dog’s lead high and close to his chest.
“Oh, Angus! There’s a washtub through the second door to your left. I won’t be cleaning up after that animal of yours,” Esther called after him, fluttering her hand as he stepped through the western door to the hallway. He met her with a short, insincere grin.
Guiding the creature to where Esther had instructed, Angus could hear the ladies cooing and laughing behind him. The dog had already begun its heavy sniffing about the rust-colored stains in the washbasin as Angus lit a glass lantern mounted into a sconce in the tiny room. He helped the animal into the tub, the dog swiftly turning alert to receive attention as he did so. The spaniel’s tongue hung out over its jagged teeth, making Angus think how the creature almost appeared to be smiling with its wide, brown, trusting eyes focused completely on his face.
Angus didn’t often get this way. He’d eaten plenty of mutts before. At the time, when he’d found the animal wandering the streets, it had felt like a good omen —given how a black-haired ghost hound had just usurped the imaginations of any superstitious locals who might have suspected anything more than a violent robbery had happened at Midgate a few nights ago. It wasn’t until he relayed the local legend to Esther, and she remarked on his strange luck, that Angus began to doubt himself. What if Angus truly was touched by luck? Would it be folly to end the beast’s life?
Angus took a moment to imagine what his life would be like with a dog in it: training it to stay out of sunlight, sicking it on rats and squirrels, having it always at his side, sharing his space with it as they slept. It all seemed so very unlike him, a notion that didn’t altogether feel so unappealing. But Angus wasn’t quite ready to be someone who wasn’t his dreary self —Esther hadn’t even finished his new papers yet. He acted as best as he could to reduce the animal’s suffering. The dog let out a sharp yelp, and off in the room down the hall, a man screamed.