Horror Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Bright Pessimism ❯ Chapter 7

Kristopher tiptoed into the dining room. It was lit mainly by the three fireplaces, and Llewellyn again stood before them. She had again changed from wearing patent-leather to wearing a matching black faille corset and what looked to be boy-shorts panties, both with a silver, diagonal crosshatch and roses design and black lace. Instead of ignoring him, Llewellyn turned to him.

"That hurt!" she exclaimed, placing a lace-gloved hand over her breast. "I didn't know that little boys were so rough. I always seem to find the timid ones."

Kristopher crossed over to her. "This is a strange question," he said under his breath, "…but why are you only wearing your underwear?"

"I am not wearing underwear!" Llewellyn crossed her arms. "These are hot-shorts. See?" She spun around, and Kristopher unfortunately saw more of her bare ass than he ever wanted to.

"Yeah, but you're old." He glanced away.

"I'm not old!" She grabbed his shoulders. "Kiss me."

Kristopher looked up at her and pursed his lips. "I didn't spend an hour washing my face and mouth for nothing."

Llewellyn curled her lip into a frown. "How many times have I told you now that you are under my authority?" she spat. "Must I post signs up around my mansion, telling you that one thing? Now kiss me!"

"No, you creepy old woman." Kristopher looked away. "I won't."

"I'm not old!" she growled.

Llewellyn smacked his cheek, and the impact caused him to back up a few steps to keep his balance. Kristopher pressed his hand against his burning cheek, glaring back at her. Although he was taken aback, he turned away and scornfully walked out of the dining room.

Kristopher returned to his room and sat down on the sofa. He lay down and hugged himself. He was in desperate need of sweets to soothe his tension. After he lay there for what seemed to be a thousand years, there was a quiet knock on the door. He sat up, and two maids walked into the room, carrying a tray. They set it down on the coffee table before him.

"The Mistress sent this up," one explained.

Kristopher stared at the tray. In front of him were three platters: a leafy salad on one, bread on another, and a strange, orange soup on the last. He pointed at the soup.

"What is that?" he gasped.

"Butternut squash soup," the other one replied monotonously.

"Um, okay."

Kristopher stared at the soup as the maids left the room. He picked up a spoon and cautiously dipped it in. The soup's consistency was extremely thin and it smelled strange, but he scooped it up in the spoon and tipped it into his mouth. There was no real taste to it other than bitter, but he ate it anyway.

The smell of the food awakened Samhain, and the bat hopped out of its box. He squeaked, flying over to the coffee table. After sniffing the soup, Samhain looked up at Kristopher blankly.

"That's how I feel, too, Samhain," Kristopher muttered.

After he had finished eating, Kristopher paced around the room. He felt unsafe inside the space he had, so he decided to wander around the mansion. Before he did, however, he slipped off his steel-toe boots so his footsteps would not be heard.

As he wandered with Samhain perched on his shoulder, Kristopher heard a piano coming from down the hallway. He immediately recognized the soft and quiet song it played as Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. He followed the song to a large, grand doorway. He stared at the silver knob and debated whether or not to enter, but he went against what common sense told him and entered.

Immediately when he entered the room, the song stopped. He saw the piano ahead of him, but no one sat at it. Kristopher heard the heavy door shut behind him and spun around. He tried to open it again, but it seemed to have locked behind him. He pounded it with his fist, but the door was not hollow, and hitting it was like striking a brick wall.

He shivered as he slowly turned around. The room was lit by a fireplace and candelabras set on end tables beside the large bed that graced the wall next to him. A large window spanned the back wall, and an antique table with two chairs was set in front of the fireplace.

Kristopher crossed over to the fireplace as Samhain squeaked at him. The bat flew off his shoulder and perched on the fireplace. Kristopher saw a portrait above it, and a spotlight shone on it. He shivered when he saw that the subject of the picture was of the little boy with the black curls.

"What are you doing in here?"

Kristopher spun around on his heels quickly. Llewellyn stood in the doorway, and she slowly shut the door behind her. She then glided across the floor toward him.

"I heard the piano," he told her quietly. "But when I walked in, it stopped playing. The door locked behind me."

"Mmm."

Llewellyn held out her hand to Samhain, and he hopped on. She tiptoed over to the window and opened it, letting the bat fly out. She next closed it again before turning back to Kristopher.

"Sit down, would you?" she requested, pointing to a chair at the table.

Kristopher slinked into the chair nervously. He took a deep breath as Llewellyn walked behind him. She peeled off her lace gloves and tossed them down onto the table before she placed her hands on his shoulders. He tensed up at her touch.

"Relax," she whispered in his ear as she rubbed his shoulders. "Just relax."

Kristopher looked up at the portrait again. "Who is that little boy?" he asked.

"Shhh. Be quiet."

Llewellyn ran her fingers through his black locks. Kristopher wanted to intervene, but his arms seemed to be stuck to the arms of the chair. He struggled to raise his arms but to no avail as she kissed the top of his head.

"Don't struggle," she said in his ear.

Kristopher looked up at her fearfully as she walked in front of him. Llewellyn straddled his lap and brushed through his hair. She lightly kissed his cheek.

"What is this?" Kristopher gasped. "Why can't I move?"

Llewellyn smiled as she looked directly into his blue eyes. Her own eyes suddenly gleamed and changed color to a dark crimson. Kristopher quivered as his heart raced.

"I don't have much to hide from you." She licked her lips. "You have a lot of questions, but I can't answer with words."

Llewellyn kissed his lips softly. She then tilted his chin up as she gaped, revealing razor-sharp fangs. Kristopher felt his heart stop beating as he watched her slowly inch toward his neck.

"No!" he pleaded, tears trickling down his cheeks. That was when he realized Kay was right–a vampire was out to get him.




"Wake up now."

Kristopher peeled open his eyes. He was now lying down on the bed, and Llewellyn hovered over him. He sat up abruptly, placing a hand over his neck. It stung violently, but he could not find the bite mark.

"Bites heal over when I kiss them," she explained. "That protects me from getting discovered."

He rubbed his neck. "What now?"

Llewellyn smiled as she gripped the front of his button-up shirt.

"I mean!–will I be… turned into a vampire?" He frowned. "I don't… I don't want to be one."

"No." She stroked his hair. "Nothing. I like your being only a human."

"I want to go back to my room now." He looked away. "Let me go."

"I don't want to." She gripped his chin. "I want to have some fun with you. You can't keep me from you anymore, you know."

"No!"

Kristopher pushed her away from him, but something invisible wrapped around his arms and legs. He fought it, but it was futile. Llewellyn smirked as she unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it off him, pushing him down onto the bed. He cried desperately, but she laughed.

"Please no!" he sobbed. "I don't want to!"

"Shhh, little boy," Llewellyn told him. "You are mine now."

Kristopher screamed, but no one listened.