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And the room just stopped. All the furnishings and souls therein became props in a tableau vivant. For they understood that she had seen things. She was 'there' and she was magic. No one knew what to say. But it was more than that. The very concept of speech seemed to evaporate. The people simply continued to breath and that was all.
Marianne, herself, was no different. The 'young' Elferina - Vampirina just stood there, waiting for new thoughts to wash across her brain. She knew it was coming. She knew they would ask. And in a sense, she was prepared. Play the scene again. Why not? She'd done the role before.
Maybe that was the signal? Creation shifted ever so slightly. A luncheon sized (now they say 'tapas' sized) white, bistro plate smeared with the remnants of an impromptu rigatoni bolognese supper slid from an inattentive knee and went 'thud' onto the fine, old Aubusson carpet. The old lady said - Excuse me....... and bent to pick it up, depriving the matched King Charles Cavalier Spaniels of a flavorful slurp. And they cursed her royally, as only the most aristocratic canines can, before returning to their seats under the costly, tufted, velvet settee.
Another reticent voice said - But how did it happen to you? The 'translation,' I mean. Isn't that what you call it?........... Marianne looked down and quietly answered - Yes.............. Roland cleared his throat to remind her he was there. The gesture gave her strength.
We were passing through a forest north of Brussels. The trees were tall and dense and dark. The air was cool and moist. Imagine the blackness, down near the ground, far away from prying, starry eyes. And even the moon was sleeping. The dominee conjured a small, yellow flame and fixed it upon some kindling. Quick vampire fingers caught a hare. I had to be fed. The human girl needed meat. And so the food was cooked. How fresh. How flavorful. Rather like duck, in a way. And it was all for me. I had wine from a stolen skin and greens from the woodland floor. An aged vampirina, or aged at the time of her translation, stayed with me while the others searched for blood. And their tastes were indiscriminate, unlike the Tomas, known as Jonathon, you've heard about. They took no vows. They made no promises. 'Cull the wicked?' ... Please, don't be dense. There were prosperous hamlets scattered about, filled with snug, little cottages and sleeping, farmers' daughters..... plump ones too. So you know the rest. Waste not, want not. Blood from the inner thigh tastes best....... or so I was told. But it happened that agents of The Grand Inquisitor also hunted there. And they followed my protectors back to our temporary home......
The 'lucky' charm became the weak link and I was borne away........
She knew they wanted more. And she knew that she would tell them. But reliving the past can be taxing. She stopped and asked for help............ Could one of you be of service?.... I promise not to take too much. But my heart grows weak and I need the warmth.....
A gallant, age defying gentleman said - Allow me to assist you, my dear........ He slowly rose from his seat and walked toward her. She thanked him and took hold of his hand. Then she brought it up to her lips and kissed the palm.....
Some in the room snapped pictures. Cameras were ubiquitous in this age, stowing away deep within the golden circuits of the phones. Did she mind? Not at all. Who would believe them?... especially in a time when everything can be 'photo-shopped.'
And the gallant gentleman knew the rapture only a vampire's kiss can bestow ....... Maybe later, when this was over, she'd steal away to his bed and give him some drops in return. And he would know a few more years of life.......... A recipient of the sweet gift shed by the Elferina - Vampirina known as Marianne.....
Tomorrow night, when next the embers glow, come back. Sit down and we'll tell more.....
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