The Peculiar Aristocrats of Mystic Township

Another beautiful spring evening, another splendid party, and another handsome conquest. Darla Dearborn lifted her head and licked her lips, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror at her headboard. Yes, despite the rumors, they have a reflection. I am quite messy when I’m excited, she thought. Her long sable hair and matching eyes were a stark contrast to her pale, milk-white skin.

Especially now with blood smeared around her mouth. She picked up her black dress from where it had been flung to the side of the pink satin bed and wiped the crimson off her face. Still straddling him, she looked down at… what was his name again? Oh well. What’s his name was lying there on her equally pink satin pillow, his sea blue eyes glazed over, his fair neck stained from the blood that had trickled from the two little punctures, his sinewy body lifeless. What a waste. 

She then sprang off the victim, put on her plush red bathrobe, and rang the little golden bell. A quiet knock was heard moments later. “Come in,” Darla stated. Jaxon, the Dearborn’s attendant, entered. She watched him as he collected the handsome body. She watched Jaxon, a large man in his early 30s, tanned with chocolate eyes and black hair, as he lifted the body. He was human, and the only person (mortal or immortal) who knew the Dearborn’s secret in this town. But his size, strength, quiet demeanor, and (most importantly) his discretion and loyalty meant he was very useful to the family. Of course, these attributes also kept him alive, and this was not lost on him. But Jaxon wanted to be there. He was well taken care of and would forever be grateful to the family, particularly Darla’s ‘father’ (the mayor), for taking him in as a child after his mom had been killed 30 years prior. She wasn’t sure what the story was as neither Jaxon nor her father talked about it. 

But that didn’t matter. Darla was living her best life now as a member of the Dearborn ‘family.’ She was 29 years old (and had been for about 20 years now). Although her memories as a human were slowly fading, she was given the gift of immortal life when her ‘sister,’ Brianna, changed her. And what a life this was. She joined her new family which consisted of Brianna, the matriarch, Vivienne, and the patriarch, John. John wasn’t only the mayor, but a well-known aristocrat and philanthropist in the small town of Mystic Township. Aside from being known as affluent, charitable, and unrealistically beautiful loners who weren’t seen often (except mainly during their monthly lavish parties), the Dearborns were noticeably peculiar. The family was not ignorant to the whispers of the townspeople: they are strange; something is off; something isn’t right; why do we never see them out? But being the mayor’s family, nobody ever dared question or investigate them. 

Darla then came out of her reverie as Jaxon left the room with the body to dispose. The night is still young and there are more unfortunate souls still out there. The Dearborns had the best parties, they had the best foods and drinks catered (for the guests, of course). Along with the other prosperous members of the community, they did the charitable thing and invited the less fortunate young men and women. Those that were wanderers and vagrants, that came from broken homes, or didn’t have a home to go to… those that wouldn’t be missed. Oh, it sounds terrible, but the Dearborns needed to eat too! After closing the door behind Jaxon, she picked out a slinky silver low back dress with matching shoes, double checked her reflection in the mirror, repainted her lips with a perfect red color, and sauntered her way down the winding staircase, back to the party. 

She went about, mingling with partygoers and her family, enjoying the attention she received. She was pretty in her human life, but it did not compare to how she looked now. And this gift made it easy to get her prey, never having to use her superhuman strength and quickness. Just then she looked and saw the most beautiful man she has ever seen. If her heart worked, it would have been beating out of her chest. He was tall with caramel skin, coal black hair, and deep brown eyes. His muscles shown beneath his white long-sleeve shirt and black jeans. She guessed that he was in his late 30s. Unfortunately for him (but lucky for her), he was amongst the charity crowd, as they usually flocked together at these events. As she started toward him, Brianna grabbed her arm. She looked at her sister, standing there in her rose-colored dress and her long curly brown hair cascading down her shoulders. Her dark eyes wide with concern, she whispered, “Be careful of that one. He’s been asking a lot of questions.” Confused, Darla replied, “What kind of questions?” “About the missing drifters! And us!” Brianna barely squeaked out. “Okay, I’ll be careful,” Darla stated. John, looking dapper in his tuxedo, silver hair trimmed neat with a five-o'clock shadow, had joined them by this point. “No, Darla” he said soberly. “You need to take care of him. And quickly.” Comprehending the severity of his directive, Darla nodded silently. As Brianna and John parted ways to continue socializing, Darla slipped into the secluded foyer for a peek in the great gold-framed hanging mirror when the beautiful stranger walked up behind her. 

She turned around to meet his gaze, quicker than she meant to. He was even more lovely up close. “Hello,” she breathed, trying to be cool. Why is it so different with this one? “What’s your name?” He hesitated before stating, “Henry, and you?” “Darla,” she replied sensually. After a pause, he asked, "Can I get you a drink?" Smiling charmingly, she stated, "Cognac neat, please." He returned a few minutes later, she took the drink, and turned around to go outside. Of course he followed. The two stood there for almost an hour, chatting and laughing, him nursing his drink while she didn't touch hers. As they flirted and connected, she noticed that he inconspicuously asked questions, not only about the missing vagrants but also about the family and the parties. Despite how much she was actually enjoying herself, John’s words echoed in her thoughts: You need to take care of him. She then decided it was time. “Would you like to go upstairs?” she asked seductively. He hesitated for just a fraction of a second before replying, “I would love to,” with a mischievous smile. Placing his hand gently on the small of her back, they went inside and climbed the winding stairs to her bedroom. 

Hmmm got him right where I want him, she mused as they slowly entered her bedroom, and she closed the door behind her. She glanced the room. Jaxon had accomplished cleaning up the mess, with a fresh satin ivory comforter and matching pillowcases now covering the bed. I might take my time with this one. They kissed passionately as they descended onto the bed. She felt like she was high as she floated into a state of bliss. And then everything went dark. 

Darla woke up with a start. What.... what happened? She looked around the still room. She was alone, still clothed, the ivory sheets still neat with no blood in sight. She looked at the clock, hours had passed by, it was almost daylight. Panic beginning to set in. What the.... “Okay, calm down, Darla,” she said to herself. I need to find the family, see what is going on. It took a lot of control not to move at superspeed as she wasn’t sure if humans were still at the celebration. But as she climbed down the winding staircase, listening for the humans, she had the sudden realization that there was no sound at all. Absolute silence. And as she reached the bottom, she froze. In front of her lay three dead bodies.

These bodies were not mortal though. John, Brianna, even Vivienne, with her dark curls and ruby dress, lay in front of her with wooden stakes in their hearts. She stood in shock as she looked upon her family, recognizing their decomposed bodies only by their hair and clothes. So, this is what we look like when we die, she thought. Rotted skeletons. Movement near the front door caught her attention, and that’s when she saw the killer. 

Henry, with blood down the front of him, stood looking at Darla. Scared, the only thing she could think to say was, “How did you know?” He began walking back and forth, “I have sources. I too am from a well-known family. You may have heard of us. I am Henry Dovetail.” “Dovetail?!” she exclaimed in shock. I thought they were made up. It is said that they smell like humans but are the strongest of the immortals and can survive off human food or blood. His wicked laugh made her jump. “Yes, that’s right; half mortal and half immortal. That’s why you thought I was a simple human yet couldn’t resist me and why I was able to knock you out so easily.” It was then that her fear turned into anger. She was ready to fight. 

Just then Jaxon entered the room, opposite of where Henry stood, his face like she had never seen, dark with anger. Oh, thank God! “Jaxon! Be careful! He’s a Dovetail!” Jaxon and Henry looked at one another. Just as Darla was ready to run to Jaxon’s side, she instead became more rigid, stunned as the two began to laugh.

The wicked laughter echoed throughout the large room. She was dumbfounded, unable to tell which one was speaking, as the two spoke to each other and laughed like she wasn’t there. Finally, Henry said mockingly, “Oh, didn’t Jaxon tell you that he has an older brother?” More laughter. “Yeah,” Henry continued nonchalantly, “we have the same mortal mom, but different dads. So, Jaxon isn’t technically a Dovetail but he’s family just the same. It’s taken us 30 years, but we finally got revenge.” The bewilderment on her face prompted him to continue. “Oh yeah, John, your fearless leader, forgot to mention to you that he killed our mom before he ‘saved’ Jaxon. Then turned him to your disgusting family’s lackey.” As tears sprang to her eyes, Henry then stated, in a serious tone, “Except that I couldn’t bring myself to kill you.” 

As she looked at him in amazement, his voice softened and he stated sheepishly, “I felt like we actually connected. I was going to ask if you wanted to come with us.” Despite the whole demented situation, she oddly found this endearing. Almost forgetting her surroundings, she gazed at him silently. She believed him as she felt the same connection. Could this lunacy really be a new beginning for me? As her own body softened and she opened her perfectly painted lips to answer yes, Jaxon suddenly appeared beside her, and shoved a wooden stake into her heart.