Darkness Dominates - Chapter 1

Alven wasn’t always a city. Centuries before, it was one of the few remaining Saxon’s settlements in Britain. Comprising of over twenty houses, the town was surrounded by a circular wall. It was built from eight foot-high logs. Its purpose was defensive. The ‘Harrying of the North’ wasn’t a distant memory for the inhabitants. It had been less than three years since this part of Britain had been laid to waste. The people living here were still afraid that the new king’s troops would burn this place to the ground. Steps were immediately taken to allay that fear.

The town was named after the man who’d built it, along with every house. The physically demanding task had, however, led to a serious decline in his health. He’d died under a month ago. His passing had left his two children – nineteen year-old Vorlyn and seventeen year-old Leola – parentless. There was no mother. She was one of those killed when William the Conqueror’s men last rode this way.

Leola was, at this moment, in danger of following her parents to the grave. An unknown illness was ravaging her body. Sweat running down from her forehead made her face glisten in the candlelight. Leola’s brown hair was matted and slimy – her blue eyes were bloodshot. Wiping away the perspiration was Nora – the oldest living woman in this community. Every few minutes or so, she dunked a cloth in a wooden bowl full of water. She then wrung out the excess fluid until it was just cold and damp. Suddenly, Leola rolled to the left and was sick on the ground.

Nora examined the orange-coloured vomit. She shook her head sadly. Hearing his sister puking, Vorlyn entered.

“You shouldn’t be in my house” said Nora sternly.

“Will she recover?”

“You must prepare for her passing, Vorlyn – it will be a miracle if she sees another morning”

“So, death is what awaits her”

Nora nodded.

“You would do well to prepare the pyre for your sister”

“That will not be necessary” said a voice coming from the doorway. Vorlyn turned. Not recognising the face of the man stood there, he drew the sword he’d inherited from his father.

“Who are you?” enquired Alven’s son.

“Garalde of Canroth”

Hearing a Saxon name used, Leola’s brother slid his weapon back into its sheath.

“Canroth is many a mile from here – why stray so far there?”

Nora’s question was loaded with suspicion. She only trusted those from her own community.

“News reached me of this poor maiden’s condition – I am here to save her from it!”

“How can you achieve this?” asked Vorlyn. “The remedies Nora has given Leola have not delivered her from death.

“If nothing more can be done by this old woman’s hand, then what harm can there be in putting her fate in mine.”

Vorlyn turned to Nora and said “I shall give him leave to try”

“He is not known to us” Nora replied defiantly.

“I am the chief of this town – it is for me to decide what needs to be done!”

Nora gave Vorlyn a sour look as she agreed to capitulate.

“I must be alone with her” insisted Garalde.

“We will give you the solitude you need” Vorlyn assured him.

He deliberately fixed an authoritative gaze upon Nora as he agreed to this one condition. Vorlyn took hold of her left arm to ensure she wouldn’t challenge his decision as the two of them left. When they’d gone, Garalde put a bag made from cow’s skin on a wooden table. From it, he took various herbs and potions. Behind him, he heard Leola vomit again. Using the water in the wooden bowl, he wiped it away from the corners of her mouth. When her forehead was a little cooler, Leola looked into Garalde’s eyes for the first time.

“Father” she said feebly.

Her disease had taken Leola to the point where even uttering words was tiring. That one had sapped her of some of her energy. She looked exhausted. Leola’s exclamation was due to her fixing on a memory of Alven.

“I can see why your brother wants you to live”

Garalde leaned in closer to her face and added, “I will see to it that you will live as you have never done so before!”

A few minutes later, he walked from Norma’s house. Vorlyn, who’d been pacing, turned and strode towards him.

“Well – has my hope been realised?”

“Death will not claim her!”

Leola’s brother turned to face Alven’s townsfolk. They had all come out of their homes when news of this stranger’s promise spread.

“She will live!”

There was cheering from the men and tears of joy from the women. The jubilant atmosphere only lasted for a day.

When dusk next fell, Alven’s inhabitants were running in various directions. Those men old enough to wield swords and spears were out in force. 3 expectant mothers screamed and wailed aloud as 2 elderly men carried out the bodies of Nora and Vorlyn. They were promptly laid on the ground next to one another.

“There she is” yelled Nora’s nephew, pointing at Leola. Her chin was smeared with blood. It had been his aunt’s and her brother’s that she had taken. A fiery surge of vengeance gave him the courage to draw his sword. His moment of bravery did him no good. Before he could even lunge his weapon at her, Leola’s altered teeth, resembling those of a predatory animal, bore down on the left side of his neck. She only got as far as consuming three pints of blood. Six of Alven’s warriors charged towards her. In her bid to get away, she uprooted three of the logs that formed part of the circular wall. It was as easy an effort as pulling up blades of grass. As she ran, Leola saw the scenery on either side of her fly by at an ever-increasing pace. It only became stationary again when she stopped running. She surveyed the view all around her.

Leola was glancing at this view again, but from the window of a train carriage. The year was now 2015. The inspector on board it started calling out “tickets” to the passengers. As she fumbled in her left jacket pocket for her wallet, a small object fell to the floor. The ticket collector picked it up and handed it back to her. It was a wooden talisman. Shaped like the diamond on a playing card, it had a Saxon symbol etched into its centre.

“I think I saw this in a school history book when I was a lad” he commented.

“I got it from a museum gift shop” she said quickly. Leola then took out her wallet and handed him the train ticket with the letters RTN on it.

“How long before we reach Alven?”

“Just after 7:30pm, I reckon”

It was starting to get dark outside. Waiting until he’d moved on from her double-seat, Leola got up, reached into her handbag and took out what appeared to be a pencil case. She left the blue leather bag on the seat next to hers as she headed to the toilet nearest to where she was seated. After locking the door, Leola then unzipped the pencil case. Within it, she removed a tiny glass bottle. It was filled near to the brim with human blood. She unfastened the top and gulped its contents down in one go. Outside the door, the individual passengers and railway staff members acted as they normally would during these journeys. None of them were aware that there was a genuine vampire on this train with them.

Platform 5a of Alven’s train station was crammed with commuters coming home late from work. Leola was nestled in amongst of them as they headed to where the return tickets were collected. Like lightning, she dodged out of this crowd. She took out a student travel card from her wallet. It had a photo of her, taken three years ago, and the name Skye Linton underneath. The face in it hadn’t aged as much as a day since the 11^th century. Every two hundred years of her immortal existence, she wished to reclaim the ability to grow old. For her, it was still one of the defining factors of being human. Leola tossed the student travel card into the nearest bin she could find. There was no way she could maintain the illusion she was a college student. She’d held onto that persona for over fifteen years. Each individual she’d become had a maximum shelf life of twenty to thirty years. It was time for her to adopt a new identity.

In the sizeable concourse, she saw a dispenser for disposable cameras. Putting two pound coins in the slot, she placed her right hand under where they usually fell through. She put it in her left coat pocket and continued walking to the entrance. Passing through the automatic doors, she came out opposite Lyndale Road.

Straight across from where she was standing were three cafes, a second-hand record shop and a miniature branch of Sterling’s – Alvenshire’s home-grown supermarket chain. The reason this view had extra significance for her was down to it being in the same spot Nora’s house had been, nine hundred years ago. She fantasised about this old lady being immortal like her. Leola then tried to envisage what Nora would make of the way Alven had expanded to the size it was now. That speculation almost led to a car careering into her. That was the type of accident that would’ve exposed what she is. Luckily, it braked several inches from her. The vehicle’s driver used the F-word and called her a dozy cow in the space of a minute. She gave no response and stepped onto the pavement. At least nine cars had driven by when she briefly glanced behind her. The chance to change her mind over heading this way had gone.

Just one of the trio of cafes was still open – Tanaho’s. It regularly closed its doors at midnight, so Leola opted to spend at few hours there.

It had the interior of an American diner from the Fifties. Leola, when she used the name Mary Ann Williams, had eaten, and danced, in one of those for real. She didn’t think it recreated that period accurately enough.

Leola delved into this memory. It instantly became an immersive experience. Around her, male and female American youths gradually appeared. Through her eyes, a young man wearing a black leather jacket and slicked-back hair was seen to be walking over to her. He had a tiny scar on the upper part of his right cheek. It wasn’t bleeding. He combed his hair a couple more times before talking to her.

“You look like a cool chick! Why don’t we ditch these cats and go out to the alley?”

She was about to give him an answer when two high school jocks got between her and the greaser. They both had sweatshirts on with the first letter of their high school’s name sewn into it. The guy trying to get fresh with her was joined by his pal. He too was a greaser. Both sets of young men were exchanging mean and aggressive glances. Fearing a brawl might occur, the owner of this diner came from behind the counter. He was determined to stop it before it started. Getting the message, they backed away from one another. He then told the greasers to leave. They did, along with two girls who’d been sticking close to them. One of the jocks clicked his fingers at a coloured employee.

“Where’s my soda, boy?” he said in a masculine tone.

The diner’s owner turned to face Leola. Her memory suddenly got weird, when his mouth opened and a female voice came out.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

What was even stranger was that the woman talking was British. Leola blinked twice and found a waitress with black hair staring at her. She repeated the question.

“Just a small Americano, please”

As Skye Linton, she gave that reply whenever she wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to order. That became the standard phrase for that situation. Whilst the waitress headed to the rear of the counter, she spied someone entering that she knew very well.

“Good evening, Councillor Trennell”

“Good evening, Lisa – a Cappuccino, please”

“Coming right up”

Their accents were a mixture of Welsh and Yorkshire, with a bit of Norwegian English mixed in. All three dialects had helped create the Alvenshire lingo.

Once she was on the staff side of the counter, Lisa bent over to straighten a couple of the trays.

“Pissing hell, Kevin – don’t you ever stack them properly” she muttered loudly.

Leola soon realised that Councillor Trennell was staring at her as she was taking off her coat and placing it over the back of one the chairs. She made a sporadic mental note of her complexion and her hair colour, which was between brown and black.

“Shouldn’t you be at home – it’s a school night”

“Is it?”

“It’s no good feigning ignorance – seventeen year-olds are well aware when it’s a school night”

“I could be eighteen, nineteen, or over twenty-three”

“You’re seventeen”

“Why so sure?”

“Because you sit like a seventeen year-old – my daughter Rosie sits the very same way, and she’s about your age”

“I don’t have any parents – haven’t had for a long time”

“Are you a care home kid then?”

Not wanting to be seen to hiding anything, Leola said “Yeah, for as long as I can remember”

“So you were never fostered or adopted?”

“I never was, no”

“That must mean you’re a halfway house girl!”

“I guess so”

“Which one are you from?”

“Sudfield Hall in Canroth”

“You ran away, didn’t you?”

“Guilty as charged”

“Less of the smart arse comments – why did you do a runner”

“I didn’t got on with the manageress”

“Didn’t you try to?”

“Every day”

“Canroth’s a good thirty-odd miles from here – that’s a long way for a teenager to travel just to get away from the woman in charge. Were there any other reasons?”

“Just the one I gave you”

“Were you being interfered with?”

“No, the staff and other residents let me be”

It was plain to Councillor Trennell that her question had been misinterpreted. She chose directness when asking it a second time.

“Did any member of staff or resident sexually abuse you?”

“No, nothing like that happened there.”

“What about the care homes you lived at?”

“What’s the point of asking questions like that?”

“All kids homes and halfway houses in Alvenshire are council property. That’s what entitles me to ask those sorts of questions.”

“No, I wasn’t molested or raped at any of them”

“So, it’s just you not getting along with Sudfield Hall’s manager that made you run away.”

“It’s just that, yeah”

“Right, here’s what’s going to happen – I’m going to contact the manageress of that halfway house tomorrow and get her side of the story”

“I don’t think she’ll be in tomorrow.”

“I’m sure someone will be. You can stay at my house tonight.”

“There might not be any room”

“There is. My eldest daughter, Charlotte is at Herdenham University, so you can have her room, but only until this business is sorted. As soon as I’ve got the full tale and sorted the matter out, you’ll be going back to Sudfield Hall.”

On the journey to Councillor Trennell’s house, Leola asked her what her first name is.

“Pippa...what’s your name?”

Rather than come up with a new one, she answered “Skye Linton”.

Three left turns and two right turns later, Pippa’s car was outside her house. It was situated on Falkirk Drive, a residential area where property prices were on the expensive side. Pippa could afford a place like this because of her and her husband’s professions. The man she was married to – Doug – was the manager of Sterling’s principal branch. He’d opened the front door as his wife emerged from the car.

“Wait in the house” she said to Leola.

As she walked towards the front door, Pippa took out her I-Phone and used the camera function to take a photo of her, in full view of Doug.

“What are you doing? Who is that girl?”

Councillor Trennell replied to those questions in reverse order.

“A temporary house guest; I’m taking a photo to show her.”

“I’m not following you, Pips – who do you mean by her?”

“I’ll explain everything once you’ve made me a cuppa. Where’s Rosie?”

“She’s in her bedroom with her BFF Katy”

“Just Katy – where’s Alicia?”

“Jennifer said she’s got too much homework to do tonight”

“Good, I’ll tell you about her first – then I’ll fill her in on the situation afterwards”

True to her word, Pippa was discussing the matter over the cups of tea Doug had made, a few minutes later.

“And you found her in Tanaho’s”

“Yes”

“I know who runs Sudfield Hall – Diane Farnham. She’s great with all the teenagers living there – I can’t imagine her any of them not getting on with her.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“We’ve been friends since junior school – if anyone knows how good a person she is, it’s me. Where’s Skye now?”

“She says she wanted to use the bathroom”

The woman Doug had spoken so highly of was the person Leola was on the phone to.

“Diane – it’s Skye. Either tomorrow, or in the next two days, someone called Pippa Trennell is going to get in touch with you. Whatever she says I’ve told her, you’re to back me up. You know what’s at stake! No matter what, keep her away from the top floor of Sudfield! Should she dig any deeper about why I left there, repeat to her what I’m about to say to you!”