The Vision

"Vespera?" The tall man in the brown coat and leather hat gestured to me with a wan smile. "This is my sister, Adelaide." I approached the pair with caution, taking my long black skirts in my hands in a shallow curtsy. She did the same, and as we both raised our heads in unison and locked our eyes, I instantly recognized her.

She was a tall girl, long blonde hair tied up in an elegant bun, a small hat resting upon her head ornately. Her corset, set in vivid apricot complemented with laces of cloud white, clung to her hourglass figure in sickening perfection. 

She tittered in half nervous laughter. By gods she'd become a bag of skin and bones, timid in her pallid flawlessnes. "Oh, Vespera, yes, Godfrey has told me much about you. Hear you've just taken the train from Liverpool, yes?" Her sapphire eyes gleamed insidiously. The bitch grew more daring with each word she spoke. 

The fire in my eyes blazed like a thousand suns. She was fishing, and I thought Ill be damned if I surrender to such vile, petty games. "Oh yes, I was performing some work for the church. Helping to feed the hungry, take care of the sick."

I beamed at her, hiding my austerity behind the grin plastered about my face. "A very noble charity indeed," Godfrey chimed, ever gallant in his expression. I stifled an eye roll, catching myself. You would think, after centuries of cloaking my identity, blending in to the strange faces ceaselessly surrounding me, that I would've gotten used to this by now. Alas, I was caught off guard.

An awkward silence created an impasse between the three of us. The dreary toll of a nearby church bell diverted the uncomfortable moment, and Godfrey spoke up. "The five-o-clock service has begun, shall we venture to the church?" 

I took a deep breath, shielding my abhorrent inclinations towards the clergy. I'd been fighting them for millenia, two maybe, gods when you're this old you lose count. 

I'd actually not come from liverpool. I had been in the forests nearby, hiding out from a horde of wretched creatures who sensed my blood-and were out to have my head. 

I obliged, careful to heed with caution. He could never find out who I was. Stepping through the doors of the ever hypocritical church always filled me with resentment, yet my appearance remained ever similar to the likes of them-a guise for which I had no scruples. They were always putting on a face, for their clergy, their townspeople....why shouldn't I? 

Our steps on the cobblestone clacked in unison, as we walked arm-in-arm to the chapel, and as we got closer I could feel my blood begin to creep under my skin like a thousand night crawlers. I hid it well, and shielded myself in energy of obsidian before we ventured inside. 

Click, click, click...our heels kissed the stone steps with a cold defiance. As we crossed that unholy threshold, a vision clearer than crystalline waters apprehended me...

It was late in the fifteenth century. We were bound, she and I, by the wrists and ankles, lying helplessly on the cold stone floor of a hateful catacomb. 'How in the hell are we going to escape this time, Vespera!' 

Her voice rang shrill in my mind like a high wind. I could sense the trepidation in her, and I raised my head slowly, meeting her gaze. Gods, her eyes were like a deer caught in lantern light in the night.

A faint echo of voices jolted us both out of our telepathic reverie. We could hear the rhythm of their steps descending the stairs-a terrifying monotone-for we knew just what horrors awaited us the moment they creaked open that door.

The door swung open almost completely silently. There stood the wretch, in all his antideluvian glory. Goddamn pope would condemn us all. Behind him were his patriarchs, with clasped hands, quietly awaiting his orders. My heart dropped from my chest as they marched closer, ever still, ever silent. Would one of them simply speak already!

As if they heard my inaudible prayer, the pope opened his ghastly mouth and spoke. "These are the two, then?" The inquiry assaulted my ears like sharp nails on a chalkboard. His voice was soft, old and worn, but it carried within it a millenia of passed down pestilence and cruelty. 

"Yes, your Holiness, these are the two. And what shall be done about them?" The pope's eyes scanned us once over, twice, thrice. Their movements, so steady and unhurried were enough to make a person shudder in their sleep. 

"They must be disposed of. Do what you will with them, then see to it that it is done." The words filled the room with an ominous presence, yet his voice was light as a feather. The pope glanced to the bishops behind him and nodded. Swiftly, he turned sharp to the right and exited the room, his robes billowing behind him. 

I looked to Adelaide, begging her with my eyes not to do anything hasty. The only way out of this was to melt into the air around me-and if I did that, Adelaide would be left to her own devices. I could not abandon her like that-not now. 

The bishops were eerily the same height. Their white robes hanging lazily about their rotund shapes, seemingly untainted like their own Virgin Mary, fluttered about them as they inched closer. Their eyes were dark and piercing, like the edge of a knife. 

One of them spoke, and as he opened his mouth a thousand etheric flies hovered about their abhorrent voices. "You DARE defy the House of God!" He was two feet from me now, but I swear I could smell his putrid breath. The men were holding large daggers, which were razor-sharp and glinting in the torch light.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adelaide shiver as the bishop approached. She pleaded with her doe eyes, but the man only crept closer. Suddenly the dagger was at her throat, and she cried out in fear. "WAIT!" The word echoed, bouncing across the walls, and the man hesitated. "I-it's not m-my fault," She stammered. "It was she who decided to create the charm, not I! She forced me to help, and proclaimed she would take my life if I refused!"

The bishop in front of her paused, lowering the knife. It dropped to the floor with a loud, hollow clang, and the sharp sound convoluted my senses. He glanced over to his partner, who nodded. My head was reeling-I couldn’t believe the bitch! She lay shivering on the stone floor, in her thin, pathetic dress, mangled hair-same as I-and she decided to betray me. 

Both of the bishops turned towards me. The dagger raised in the air above my head, and in the seconds that followed, it poised to plunge into my waiting, beating heart...

The dagger flew down, but the only sound heard was the hiss of the musty air. When the blade made contact, it was only with cold, hard stone...for I had vanished.

(On the steps of the Town Chapel...)

"Vespera? Vespera!" Adelaide violently shook her shoulders, in a feeble attempt to force her awake. "Miss Adelaide? My dear it appears...it appears she's fainted," Godfrey uttered.