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       #Post#: 988--------------------------------------------------
       Grim Embrace: Left in Ashes (1834)
       By: MAT Date: February 22, 2025, 1:16 pm
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       Character: Rudolph Longstaff
       Location: London, England
       Year: 1834
       Enormous columns of black smoke rose into the skies above
       London.  The smoggy skies were lit with orange, even well after
       the sun had gone down.  What had started with a simple disposal
       of wooden sticks in the accounting department had grown into a
       chimney fire, then spread under the floors of the House of
       Lords.  By half past six, a fireball roared through the House of
       Commons; the resulting explosion could be seen up to twenty
       miles away.  Parliament was burning to the ground, and
       threatening to take Westminster Hall and St. Stephen’s chapel
       and possibly the rest of the city with it.
       And naturally, the spectacle was something everyone came to see.
       Word spread much faster than the flames, as gossips and
       commoners raced to tell each other the news.  It wasn’t long
       before the crowds were so thick that passage across Westminster
       bridge was all but impossible.  If anybody was particularly sad
       to see the seat of government going up in a blaze, they were in
       the definite minority.  Whistling, hooting, and the occasional
       cries of ‘huzzah’ rose from the assemblage, but the mobs were -
       by English fashion, perhaps - relatively ordered and
       well-behaved.  With some exceptions.
       Rudolph had been north a ways, and saw the strange glow before
       overhearing an account.  Like everyone else, he wanted to
       witness the raree-show; such things didn’t happen every day, and
       it would be far more interesting than carousing a tavern.  When
       he arrived, he stared, entranced by the flames for some while
       before realizing just how densely-packed the people had gotten.
       They were prime for the picking, he decided, and he certainly
       wasn’t the only one to think that.  While on an unchecked,
       almost gleeful harvest of pickpocketing, he saw more than one
       familiar face - wretches or criminals of a familiar variety -
       working in teams or even groups to fleece the unwitting public.
       Maybe he was a bit too zealous; maybe he let his greed get the
       best of him.  Maybe he wasn’t keen enough to his surroundings,
       or maybe he had no idea he was even being watched.  In any
       event, he reached out to snatch something from the waistcoat of
       an utterly-captivated citizen, and felt a hand clamp around his
       wrist and yank backwards.
       Eyes widening in surprise and then fear, Rudolph found himself
       face-to-face with the mysterious Tamas.  It seemed incredibly
       unlikely - approaching impossibility - that he would just happen
       across the man in a sea of thousands of Londoners, weeks after
       escaping him.  He didn’t take the time to wrap his mind around
       the outlandish circumstances, though, and opened his mouth to
       scream.
       “Don’t,” Tamas hissed.  “You call out, and I alert that nearby
       guard that you tried to pick my pocket.  When he searches you,
       I’m sure he’ll find all sorts of pilfered goods, and then it's
       off to the stockades with you.”
       Rudolph swallowed down, sending the shout - and whatever of the
       fear he could manage - down to his stomach.  “What do you want?”
       he said, the sound of his uncertain voice nearly drowned out by
       the din.
       “I’m on my way out of town, but before I go, you and I have an
       account to settle.”
       ---
       Rudolph shook his head.  “Don’t sell me a dog.  I don’t know
       anything about you.  We don’t have any accounts.  I don’t know
       what you are, and I don’t want to know.  Just let me go, and
       I’ll leave you be, and you do the same.”
       Just then, a woman nearby shouted, “*The Lord sends his holy
       fire to strike you down for the Poor-Law Bill!*”
       Tamas chuckled at her, then tipped his rose-tinted glasses down,
       gazing at Rudy.  “This isn’t the appropriate venue for such a
       conversation.  You’re going to walk with me, now.”
       The young thief scoffed.  “So you can take me into some alley
       and bite me again?  My neck still hurts from last time.  Get
       flagged.”  He tried to shake off the hand holding him, but only
       succeeded in straining his shoulder.  “Get off me!  Just get
       off!”  With his other hand, he ducked into the pocket of his
       vest and pulled out a small, makeshift blade; a flat piece of
       discarded steel that had a narrow length and a pointed tip with
       a bit of cloth wrapped around the other end for a handle.
       Halfway through a swift motion to jab it into the other man,
       Tamas grasped that wrist and twisted.  Rudolph cried out in
       pain, dropping the shank to the ground.  “My, you are an
       impertinent little bastard, aren’t you.”
       Rudy snarled his reply through gritted teeth.  “Yeah, and I
       intend to stay that way.”
       “Stop struggling.  This isn’t a fight you can win.  You’ll only
       succeed at creating a scene neither of us can afford.”
       The young man snorted.  “Good.  If I go down, I’ll take you with
       me.  Maybe they’ll toss us on the bonfire both!”
       Tamas shook his head slightly.  “No.  Not tonight.  **You’re
       going to follow me now.**”
       There wasn’t anything apparently special about the words; it
       wasn’t a complex statement meant to befuddle or distract.  It
       was basically just a repetition of the command he’d issued
       seconds earlier.  But somehow, Rudolph felt his will utterly
       dissolve.  He watched, almost from behind himself, as he stopped
       struggling and proceeded to calmly follow Tamas as the vampire
       parted through the crowds.  They walked for a while, and by the
       time the mystic bending of his will wore off, Rudy found himself
       seated in the back of a carriage coach rattling along the road.
       “What did I do to you?” he quietly asked the figure sitting next
       to him, trying to find a reason for this targeted behavior.
       Tamas smirked.  “You intrigued me.”
       “Well, I’ll stop being interesting.  Honest,” Rudy offered,
       half-jokingly and half-desperately.
       ---
       “We’re well beyond that point, child.  Your magical talent; who
       taught you?  Do you belong to some kind of society?” Tamas
       asked.
       Rudolph rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, the Royal Society of the Arts
       just extended an invitation to become fellow.  They’ve become so
       passé, though; too political!  I turned them down.”
       “Rebel, rebel, rebel.  We are alike in that respect, Rudolph.
       During any game, though, there is a point where one must decide
       what the stakes are worth and what move to make next.  In short:
       you can tell me what I want to know, or I can rip it out from
       you.  You seem clever enough to know which one will be far less
       excruciating than the other.”  He raised his voice to call up to
       the driver and signal a turn, then sat back against his seat.
       “You’re dabbling with mystical forces that draw all sorts of
       unpleasant attention.”
       “Attention like you,” Rudy muttered.  “You know, people are
       going to notice I’m missing.  You can’t just slit my throat,
       toss me in the river and be done with it.”
       Tamas laughed.  “What people?  No, nobody would notice you were
       gone, and yes, I could do exactly that and walk away whistling a
       tune.  Your friends are just current co-conspirators, you have
       no wife, no children - that you know of; just a string of ****
       and jilted conquests.  Your mother is dead and your father has
       so little interest in you he never even learned your name.  You
       have nobody.”
       Rudolph’s face sent slack.  “You know who my father is?”  He
       suddenly found it a little difficult to breathe.
       “Oh, I’ve done a fair bit of digging in the months since our
       last encounter.  But you don’t really care about that, do you?”
       The young man forced himself to exhale, releasing the breath
       that was pent-up.  “No.  Not really.  I’m my own man.
       Everything I have is mine.”  Once upon a time, he used to wish
       and wonder what his life would have been like with a family;
       with parents.  But that dream died about the same time puberty
       hit.
       “And the magic?” Tamas asked.
       Rudolph hesitated, then just shrugged, turning his head to look
       through the dingy glass of the coach door.  “It just came to me
       one day.  I was in a fight and I hit the guy, and he hit me, and
       then he just...stopped.  Looked like a spooked horse.  I hit him
       again, and again, and again, and he just stood there and took
       it.”  He sighed.  “Nobody taught me, I taught myself.  I don’t
       even know entirely what it is.  Sometimes it just...happens,
       whether I want it or not; it just goes off like a cannon.”
       “What can you do?”
       “Little things.  Magic tricks.  Illusions.  I can make people
       want me.  Ignore me.  Like me.”  He turned his head and fixated
       a stare at the other man, then reached out and placed his hand
       on Tamas’ thigh.
       “You’re trying to do it right now, aren’t you,” the vampire
       asked.
       “Is it working?” Rudolph asked, letting out a small, nervous
       chuckle.
       “No.”
       ---
       The coach came to a stop at Cavendish Square.  Rudolph lunged
       for the door, intending to bolt, but Tamas slipped three fingers
       into the waistband of his pants and hauled him backwards like an
       errant child, grasping him with the other hand at the throat.
       He towed the young man out onto the street, holding him at the
       biceps, and when Rudolph continued to struggle, literally
       dragged him up the darkened, **** steps of the building.  The
       coach rolled away, its driver either blissfully unaware or
       uncaring of what was transpiring.
       Down the dim, dingy hallway the two went, the mortal man’s shoes
       scraping ineffectively against the boards.  Quickly they arrived
       at apartment kept at the back end of the building.  Opening the
       door with one hand, Tamas forcefully hurled Rudolph inside with
       the other, sending the man rolling across the floor in a rough
       tumble.  He closed the door behind them, and reached to turn up
       one of the lanterns.
       The interior of the living space was strikingly different than
       the rest of the building.  The floor looked to be made of
       polished slate tiles, the walls were covered in a finely-pressed
       plaster, and the furnishings were fashionable and opulent;
       everything upholstered with velvet or silk.  In short, it looked
       more like the bedroom of a sultan than a hovel.
       Rudolph pushed himself up, scrabbling backwards until he was
       against a plush, overstuffed chair.  “You’re really going to
       kill me.”
       Tamas shed his overcoat, hanging it on a hook near the door.
       “Yes.”
       “Why?” Rudy asked, unable to keep the slightest whine from
       reaching his tone.
       “Why not?” came the indifferent reply.  “Why do you pick
       people’s pockets?  Why do you con them out of fortunes?  Why
       pretend to be a doctor, a shaman, a - this one was my personal
       favorite - circus elephant trainer?  Why cavort with
       prostitutes, why drink, and waste away hours in some Chinese
       opium den?”  Tamas shrugged.  “Because *you can*.  That’s what
       freedom is.  Doing what you want, to or with whomever you want,
       whenever you want.  Resisting the yolks of control others try to
       lay upon you.”
       “But you’re trying to control me right now.  You’re trying to
       end my freedoms.”
       “In a fashion, perhaps.  Death isn’t always the end, though.
       Sometimes it’s just the start.  How do you feel right now?
       Probably terrified, though you’re doing a decent job of
       controlling it.  Angry, frustrated; because you think you are
       about to lose everything - all the opportunities.  I can
       preserve that youthfulness - that vitality - forever.  I can
       give you decades.  I can cure you from the myriad diseases
       you’ve probably picked up in your frolicking.  I’m giving you a
       gift.”
       Rudolph shot a breath of air through his teeth.  “Hah.  You’re
       lying.  Not the words themselves, really.  No, you’re lying
       about your sentiment.  You sound like I do when I’m running a
       con.  So eager to help, but really just trying to take.  All the
       upsides, all the favors!  How marvelous!  Until the bill comes.
       Until the curtain pulls back to an empty stage.”
       ---
       Tamas smiled.  “There’s a price, certainly.  Did you see the sun
       set tonight?”  At the other man’s nod, Tamas’ smile turned
       rueful.  “I’d wager the smoke gave it a beautiful cast.  I hope
       you enjoyed it.  But I’m sure you didn’t.  Simply took it for
       granted; perhaps were even irritated by its shine in your eyes.
       “And I have an ulterior motive, no doubt.  Only the most naive -
       only the greatest fools - do anything from the goodness of their
       heart.  I want to leave a message, and you will be my ink.
       Immortality is monstrous, and that monster is always hungry.  If
       you don’t get yourself destroyed immediately, you’ll have to
       find ways to distract it.  I already know you have no problem
       preying on your fellow man, but you have no idea what that truly
       means.”
       Rising to his feet, Rudolph continued backing away; past the
       chair to the wall of the room.  “I’m just trying to survive.”
       “You weren’t trying to survive when you infiltrated that
       birthday soiree.  The only pressing need you felt then was lust,
       and you pursued it with single-minded diligence.  You left her
       in quite a quandary while you leapt out a window.”  He laughed,
       then, seemingly at some kind of inside joke.  “Don’t start
       moralizing with me, we both know better.”
       “Fine.”  He pushed away from the wall.  He had resigned himself
       to whatever fate awaited, and was going to say something to that
       effect.  He never got the chance, though.  In the blink of an
       eye, Tamas moved across the room and grabbed his shoulder with
       one hand, leaning his head down to savagely bite him with the
       other.
       As before, the bliss of the bite overtook him, causing his limbs
       to go limp.  The vampire held him up as the seconds passed and
       his heartbeat slowed.  The last thought he had was a half-formed
       mishmash of feelings; anxiety over what - if anything would come
       next - and a sort of relief that he could die feeling so damned
       good.  His vision went dim, then entirely dark, and then he was
       gone.
       
       After draining the young man entirely, Tamas bit his own lip
       open, tearing a deep gash into the soft tissue.  Then, just as
       his own sire had done to him, he leaned down and kissed Rudolph,
       making sure that his own vitae - transformed by the curse -
       flowed down the man’s throat.  Licking his lips, he sealed the
       wound and hefted the dead body up like a sack of flour.  The
       vampire twisted the knob to a second room; one with no windows
       and no other exit.
       He lit a lantern and dumped Rudolph’s corpse onto the rickety
       floorboards.  The man’s open, lifeless eyes stared into the
       corner of the small room.  Huddled there were two familiar
       figures, each gagged and bound by rope at hands and feet.
       “Lieutenant Cardell, Miss de Charette - excuse me, Mrs.
       Cardell,” Tamas greeted them.  They squinted into the dim light,
       having been held captive for over a day and never seen their
       captor until now.  “I understand congratulations are in order!
       What a blessed event.  I’m sorry I won’t be around to see how
       things turn out.  I’m sure Rudolph here will give you my
       regards.”
       He closed the door behind him, and the knob let out a solid
       ‘click’ as it locked from the outside.  In the flickering, dim
       light of the cloistered room, the two of them were left to wait,
       staring at the dead body and wondering what would happen next.
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