been like this for more than two hundred years
now, and I have learned to be careful around those that are normal,” he
answered.
“Oh, please,” I scoffed. “You can’t be more than forty, at the most,
and maybe younger I would say.”
“We age very slowly. You will never appear
much older than you are now. You are ten times more in every way, than before
we met.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
“You are ten times faster, ten times stronger, you will age ten times
slower...” he trailed off.
I began to pace in what little room I had, and my mind was spinning. “So,
what is it about the light? Why was it so important that we had to stay down
here when the sun started coming up?”
“Not just any light,” he corrected me. “Sunlight, and truthfully, I do
not know the answer to that myself. Plus, it is impossible to fight the pull of
the coming dawn, at least until you become an older creature, such as I .”
“Well, what happens when someone, you know, like us goes out when the
sun is up?” I asked.
Martin got up, walked over to the tomb, and leaned against it. “When I
was a new creature, no more than five years turned, I was with a small party in
the catacombs of London. With us was an older man that we all knew was
touched,” he lightly tapped his temple. “We were to search the tunnels for any
slaves that had escaped. You see, those tunnels go on and on for miles, and
there are so many turns that eventually they all begin to look the same. At
times, it seemed we were as lost as the slaves we hunted.” He stopped speaking
to light more candles, and gestured for me to join him in the center of the
room. When I reached him, he lifted me up to sit atop the sarcophagus, then ran his hands down my waist and over my hips.
“Aren’t you going to join me up here?” I asked nervously. He flashed
his famous grin, and slowly moved his hand from my hip to my knee, using the
other to clear a spot to sit. He hopped up beside me, and said, “I think it
will be very difficult not to touch you in the way of a lover. I have dreamed
of the day many times.”
“I don’t know how one minute, I can hate you - I mean, nearly hate you
- then the next, I see something, I can’t explain what, but it makes me feel
drawn to you. I am a good woman, Martin, and I don’t mean to sound so
old-fashioned, but I want to marry first, then give
myself to my husband, just like my Ma did.”
“Then my lady shall have her wish.” Martin said respectfully. “Just
know that it will be hard to not have some part of you, a kiss, a small touch. I would love to see your nude body next to
mine when I wake.” That last statement choked me up, and I was suddenly desperate
to change the subject. Only, I could not for the life of me remember where we
had left off in the conversation.
“O-Oh, yeah, you were saying something about the tunnels of London and
stuff?” I managed to mutter.
“Ah, of course,” he said. “I got off track somewhat.” Somewhat? I
thought to myself. You got about a mile off track. There is no somewhat about
it. “Where was I?” he asked.
“You were lost like the slaves,” I said, speaking very fast.
“Thank you, Renee,” he said, unable to hide his smile. “Our time went
on like that, night after night. It was our last in the Hell Tunnels, as we
learned to call them - I had that job for four years, and I was always told ‘to
go up, you have to start down’. Anyway, as I was saying, it was our last night
in the tunnels, and dawn was at hand. As we were nearing the end of the last
tunnel, the one we would leave to report our findings after nightfall, the old
man approached our exit. ‘Do you hear them?’ he would ask. ‘It’s my mum and my
wife, Amanda. Can’t you hear them?’ We all looked at one another, and we knew
his mind was as weak as his old body. ‘I will, I will come to you, my darling,’
he yelled. ‘Where are you? Mum, can you hear me?’ We heard nothing but him,
now, and I have learned to be careful around those that are normal,” he
answered.
“Oh, please,” I scoffed. “You can’t be more than forty, at the most,
and maybe younger I would say.”
“We age very slowly. You will never appear
much older than you are now. You are ten times more in every way, than before
we met.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
“You are ten times faster, ten times stronger, you will age ten times
slower...” he trailed off.
I began to pace in what little room I had, and my mind was spinning. “So,
what is it about the light? Why was it so important that we had to stay down
here when the sun started coming up?”
“Not just any light,” he corrected me. “Sunlight, and truthfully, I do
not know the answer to that myself. Plus, it is impossible to fight the pull of
the coming dawn, at least until you become an older creature, such as I .”
“Well, what happens when someone, you know, like us goes out when the
sun is up?” I asked.
Martin got up, walked over to the tomb, and leaned against it. “When I
was a new creature, no more than five years turned, I was with a small party in
the catacombs of London. With us was an older man that we all knew was
touched,” he lightly tapped his temple. “We were to search the tunnels for any
slaves that had escaped. You see, those tunnels go on and on for miles, and
there are so many turns that eventually they all begin to look the same. At
times, it seemed we were as lost as the slaves we hunted.” He stopped speaking
to light more candles, and gestured for me to join him in the center of the
room. When I reached him, he lifted me up to sit atop the sarcophagus, then ran his hands down my waist and over my hips.
“Aren’t you going to join me up here?” I asked nervously. He flashed
his famous grin, and slowly moved his hand from my hip to my knee, using the
other to clear a spot to sit. He hopped up beside me, and said, “I think it
will be very difficult not to touch you in the way of a lover. I have dreamed
of the day many times.”
“I don’t know how one minute, I can hate you - I mean, nearly hate you
- then the next, I see something, I can’t explain what, but it makes me feel
drawn to you. I am a good woman, Martin, and I don’t mean to sound so
old-fashioned, but I want to marry first, then give
myself to my husband, just like my Ma did.”
“Then my lady shall have her wish.” Martin said respectfully. “Just
know that it will be hard to not have some part of you, a kiss, a small touch. I would love to see your nude body next to
mine when I wake.” That last statement choked me up, and I was suddenly desperate
to change the subject. Only, I could not for the life of me remember where we
had left off in the conversation.
“O-Oh, yeah, you were saying something about the tunnels of London and
stuff?” I managed to mutter.
“Ah, of course,” he said. “I got off track somewhat.” Somewhat? I
thought to myself. You got about a mile off track. There is no somewhat about
it. “Where was I?” he asked.
“You were lost like the slaves,” I said, speaking very fast.
“Thank you, Renee,” he said, unable to hide his smile. “Our time went
on like that, night after night. It was our last in the Hell Tunnels, as we
learned to call them - I had that job for four years, and I was always told ‘to
go up, you have to start down’. Anyway, as I was saying, it was our last night
in the tunnels, and dawn was at hand. As we were nearing the end of the last
tunnel, the one we would leave to report our findings after nightfall, the old
man approached our exit. ‘Do you hear them?’ he would ask. ‘It’s my mum and my
wife, Amanda. Can’t you hear them?’ We all looked at one another, and we knew
his mind was as weak as his old body. ‘I will, I will come to you, my darling,’
he yelled. ‘Where are you? Mum, can you hear me?’ We heard nothing but him,
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