Horror Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Bright Pessimism ❯ Chapter 8

Kristopher lay in his own bed now. He curled up and pressed his tear-stained face into the pillow, crying hopelessly. It was morning, but he had not fallen asleep during the night. His stomach gurgled, and he felt dirty, like he had been trampled underfoot.

There was a knock on the door, and three maids entered the room. They silently walked over to him and shook him gingerly. He then sat up abruptly.

"Good morning, Master Kristopher," the three greeted in unison.

Kristopher clutched his stomach as it suddenly lurched. He jumped up and pushed past the maids, racing into the bathroom. He made it to the sink and emptied the contents of his stomach. The maids gasped as they watched. After he finished puking, he glanced up at the maids.

"I'm sick," he whined.

Kristopher was sent back to bed by the maids after they changed the sheets. He casually leafed through his mother's scrapbook as he waited for his breakfast. When the door opened, he expected it to be a couple of maids with it, but instead, Llewellyn entered the room.

He hugged the scrapbook to his chest and pulled the sheets up over himself. She smirked as she walked over to him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked away.

"The maids told me that you are sick," Llewellyn stated.

Kristopher brought his knees up. "I threw up," he answered.

"Aw," she cooed, grabbing his knee and shaking it. "You are just the most miserable little boy ever, are you not?"

"So what if I was?" he grumbled, turning away from her. "I don't want to talk to you. Go away."

"Poor, poor little boy." Llewellyn pinched his cheek. "Why are you mad at me, my sweets?"

Kristopher pushed her away. "I hate you."

"Can't stand a good time, can you?" She kissed his shoulder. "I had fun playing with you last night. I want to do it again and again." A grin lit up her face. "You'll eventually succumb to me."

"Leave me alone." He wiped his eyes. "I hate you. I would never disgrace my mother by giving into the perverted will of a monster." He sniffled.

"Heh." Llewellyn smirked as she turned away.

At that moment, the maids walked in with a tray. They then set it down on Kristopher's lap, and he looked down at it. A bowl of chicken noodle soup was on the tray, and he wrinkled his nose.

"Why do I have to eat this?" he grumbled, crossing his arms.

"Stop whining," Llewellyn returned as she walked to the door. She stopped in the doorway. "Be better by tonight," she remarked, flashing a grin.

Kristopher picked up the bowl and hurled it at Llewellyn. It struck her in the back, splashing the hot soup on her body. The maids gasped as she spun around and caught the bowl as it fell to the floor. Slamming the bowl down onto the dresser next to her, she stomped over to him.

"What was that?!" she growled as she grabbed his chin forcefully.

"I hate you," Kristopher answered shakily while wiping at a stray tear.

Llewellyn curled her lip into a deep frown. It was obvious to Kristopher that she was pondering how to respond. The maids tugged at her, but she stood still, hovering over him. She pulled back on his hair, tilting his chin up painfully. Her frown faded.

"You are a gorgeous little boy," she cooed in his ear. "And you have such sweet blood… I need some more of it."

Kristopher tried to pull away from her grip, but he again could not move. He cried at the maids, but they stared lifelessly at Llewellyn as she bit his neck. The scene grew hazy before it completely disappeared from Kristopher's view.



He awoke a few hours later, his neck stinging again. Kristopher was alone now in his room, and the window had been opened. He weakly stood up and crossed over to it. Staring out the window, it was then that Kristopher realized he was atop the mountain that Llewellyn owned. He knew that his aunt's house was at the foothills, so if he could escape–

That was it.

Kristopher spun around. On the sofa was a pile of clothes the maids had set out. He raced over to the sofa and changed his clothes. Kristopher picked up the scrapbook off the nightstand and sneaked out of the room.

Kristopher walked down to the lower level. The maids were cleaning, so it was hard to find a room they were not in. He finally found one and closed the door tightly behind him.

He saw that the room was a music room and a piano was in the middle of it. He crossed over to it cautiously and saw that the sheet music on it was for Moonlight Sonata. It was old and yellowed, and when he picked it up, he could see something written in the lower-right corner.

Henry May.

"Jacob does have a son!" Kristopher exclaimed.

Kristopher bit his lip as he slipped the sheet music into the scrapbook. He next walked over to the window and slowly opened it. When it was open just enough to allow him to slip through, he closed his eyes as he lowered himself out of the window with one arm. However, he eventually lost his grip and fell to the ground.

Kristopher rubbed his back before jumping up. He walked around the mansion to analyze it. The stucco plastered on the outer walls was an aged gray, and grotesques glared back at him from the roof. He took a mental picture before he ran down the cobblestone road that abruptly ended at the edge of the woods.

He was exhausted by the time he reached the edge of the woods. His stomach screamed at him, but he ignored it. His exhaustion meant nothing to him, and he kept on running. He knew he only had so much time until Llewellyn came after him, and he needed to get as far ahead of her as he could.

Kristopher ran for what seemed to be days. His feet ached, and his legs hurt worse. He also threw up a number of times along the way. His throat was parched, and he was surrounded by vampiric insects he had never seen before.

He eventually stopped next to a stream. He collapsed on his knees beside it and splashed the cool water onto his face. Fatigue had settled in, and he leaned up against a tree and fell asleep.

A couple hours later, he again awoke. Kristopher panicked as he jumped up–he had needed the time he had slept. He picked up the scrapbook beside him and again ran.

He unfortunately knew that Llewellyn had probably noticed his absence by now. After running for just a minute, he keeled over and hurled once more. However, that did not stop him from continuing to flee, despite the fact that he wanted to give up instead of traveling through uncharted land.

Kristopher tried to ignore the sunset overhead. Anxiety took over in his mind and eventually his entire body. He halted and collapsed against a tree, trembling. He tried to keep the panic attack from happening, but his fear of Llewellyn prevailed.

"There you are."

Kristopher was puzzled; it was a man's voice. He turned around and saw a tall man standing behind him. He had medium-length, dark-brown hair and a fuzzy chin. He wore a long, gray cassock, and underneath he wore a simple black suit. Kristopher backed into the tree, hugging his scrapbook.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Alexander," the man replied. A small smile lit up his face. "She was right–you are adorable."

Kristopher pursed his lips. "Llewellyn sent you, didn't she?" he spat.

"Yes, she did," Alexander answered. He put a hand on the scrapbook. "Let me take this for you."

"No!" Kristopher slapped his hand, but it did not move.

"You are just a little boy," the man laughed. He snatched the scrapbook from Kristopher's arms. "I'll take that now," he said, opening his cassock and stuffing it into an inner pocket.

"Give it back!" Kristopher yelled at him, pulling at his coat.

Alexander pushed him back into a tree as he clawed at him. Kristopher growled as the man grabbed both of his hands. Alexander displayed an arrogant smile as he pushed Kristopher again into the tree, his back facing him.

"Guess I'm going to have to make you be nice," he laughed as he took a piece of rope from his coat and tied it around Kristopher's wrists.

"Let me go!" Kristopher demanded, trying to kick backward at him.

"Shhh, little boy." Alexander ran his large hand through Kristopher's hair. "The Mistress told me to have some fun with you."

Kristopher glanced over his shoulder at him. Alexander turned him around to face him and leaned against him. Kristopher flinched as Alexander pinched his cheek.

"You are the cutest thing," he cooed. "I hope you don't mind a grown man checking you out, do you?"

"Let me gooo!" Kristopher whined, trying to wriggle away.

"Mmm, not right now," Alexander laughed as he took a piece of cloth out of his coat.

Kristopher looked up at him. "What are you going to do to me?" he asked fearfully.

"Shhh."

Alexander kissed Kristopher before pressing the cloth against his mouth and tying it in the back. He struggled against the man as Alexander reached down into his jeans. Kristopher cried out for help, but the cloth muffled him. Alexander stroked his hair with his other hand, whispering lewd praises in his ear.

"I'd have fun with you," he whispered crudely. "I want to… I want to get you out of these clothes and fuck you and suck you…" Alexander licked his neck. "Your skin tastes good. I want to taste more of it."

Kristopher was stunned completely. After struggling against Alexander for what seemed forever, he eventually believed there was no way to ever escape the sexual torment he was put through and would be put through. He became numb to Alexander's lustful comments and touch as he drifted off to a neutral state. Alexander noticed Kristopher's lull and grabbed his chin.

"What's wrong with you, boy?" he asked, rubbing his cheek with his thumb.

Kristopher glanced up at him, but he could not see a clear picture of him. He tilted his head to the side and slowly closed his eyes. He could barely feel Alexander shake him before he went unconscious again.



Kristopher awoke soon enough on the sofa in the upstairs parlor room. His entire body was in agony, and he hugged the blanket on him to his chest as he rolled uncomfortably. Just a moment later, however, his famished stomach lurched again, and he rolled over and vomited in the floor.

A few minutes afterward, Llewellyn walked into the room. She glared at the pile of vomit in the floor and called to her maids before walking over to Kristopher. She sat down next to him.

"A pity, is it not?" Llewellyn remarked.

Kristopher looked up at her as the maids entered the room. "What are you talking about?" he croaked.

"I thought you would try escaping through the window," she said. "I wondered how long it would take you to think of it."

Kristopher closed his eyes. "What are you going to do to me now?" he whispered.

"I thought that the greasy, old man was good enough for now," she puffed. "Why? Do you want me to do anything more while you are sick?"

"No." He pulled the blanket up to his neck.

"Well," she remarked, "if you had just stayed in bed today, you would feel better by now."

Kristopher opened his eyes to watch the maids clean up the mess he had made. "I guess." He glanced back at her. "Who was he?"

"Alexander?" Llewellyn raised her eyebrows as she leaned into the sofa. "He was Jacob's only apprentice. However, after Jacob died, he became mine." She ran her fingers up Kristopher's leg. "He is one of my vampiric slaves."

"Why is he your slave?" Kristopher asked, intrigued. "Did he do something bad?"

"He knew my secret." Llewellyn looked down. "He knew the secret of my vampirism."

"Was he always a creepy old man?" he inquired.

"No," she sighed. "I made him that way."

Kristopher watched the maids as they left. He then spotted his scrapbook lying on the coffee table next to him. Llewellyn picked it up and opened it, taking the sheet music out.

"Why did you take this?" she asked, and Kristopher realized her voice was shaky.

"I–I…" Kristopher bit his lip. "I like the song. It's pretty."

Llewellyn stared back at him, and her eyes suddenly colored gray. "You have not an idea how much this means to me," she said under her breath. "I only have so much left of him."

Kristopher never knew that Llewellyn was capable of feeling emotions–of being human.

"Henry May–who is he?" he questioned hesitantly.

"Do not ask me that question!" she snapped tearfully.

Kristopher painfully watched Llewellyn as she gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes shut. He was afraid of her response and for good reason. She sniffled and suddenly cleared her face of any emotion other than anger as she glared back at him.

"You tried to take away a great memory of mine," she growled. "I'll take away yours."

"No!" Kristopher pleaded. "I'm sorry–I didn't know it meant so much to you!"

Llewellyn shook her head as she took the sheet music and the scrapbook up into her arms. Kristopher watched her as she then stomped out of the room. His blue eyes filled with tears.

"You bitch!" he screamed.