Behind Blue Eyes: The Good The Bad & The Blood

  She began to scream but Vasile slapped his hand across her mouth. Terrified, she gasped for breath as she tried to escape. She punched out wildly, and then tried scratching at his face. It was useless, so she kicked out at him; her shoe went flying through the air. She might as well have been doing nothing, as he didn’t even flinch at her feeble attempts. She felt the blood draining out of her as his mouth moved from her palm and his teeth tore at her wrist. Her strength was waning as she feebly pawed at the hand on her mouth.

  He looked her in the eye as he removed his hand from her mouth and released it. That menacing expression was still present on his face; he enjoyed what he was doing. She loudly sucked in a lungful of air. She didn’t see his fist coming toward her face. It wasn’t long before she couldn’t focus on anything, and as the blows continued, everything went black.

  ***

  Elizabeth was reading in the parlor when the butler showed Ann’s brother in. Elizabeth stood and welcomed her guest. “Donald, you are just in time. This is a fresh pot of tea.”

  Donald embraced her. “No tea, thank you.”

  Elizabeth stood back, a concerned look on her face. “Whatever is the matter? You don’t look well.”

  “I come with grave news.” He took her arm and guided her to a chair.

  Elizabeth held her breath as she sat down, her eyes wide as the color drained from her face.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Ann was found dead two days ago.”

  “Ann’s dead?”

  Donald put his head in his hand. “She was beaten to death.”

  Elizabeth leaned forward, hugging herself. “Who would do such a thing? No, I don’t believe it. Who would want to hurt Ann?”

  “The police have arrested an American GI. She had been seen with him earlier that evening, and he had blood on the sleeve of his uniform.”

  “Are they sure it’s her?” Elizabeth whispered, her voice shaky.

  Donald moved to sit beside her. He leaned over and gently took hold of her shoulders. “It’s Ann. I identified her body this morning.”

  “Oh, Donald, I’m so sorry. What are we going to do without her? She was my only true friend.”

  ***

  Elizabeth was sitting in the library reading when the young maid entered. She looked up from her book. “Hello, Mary.”

  “Begging your pardon, Ma’am, but my mother was wondering if you would be wanting lunch.”

  “No, thank you.”

  She looked back down at her book.

  Mary hesitated. “I don’t want to speak out of turn but you haven’t eaten properly since the funeral.” She looked down at the floor.

  Elizabeth glanced up, surprised.

  “I’m sorry, but we are all worried about you.” Mary twisted her fingers together.

  Elizabeth smiled. “Come, sit with me a moment.”

  Mary slowly lifted her head and shuffled her feet as she walked toward Elizabeth, who patted the seat next to her. Mary sat down. She crossed her arms around her waist and stooped forward a little.

  Elizabeth searched out one of Mary’s hands. “Don’t look so nervous. You are not in trouble.” She smiled as Mary looked up. “I remember the day you were born. I helped your mother deliver you.”

  Mary smiled. “My mother never told me.”

  “I can’t believe that was almost sixteen years ago. You are such a caring girl. Have you started courting yet?”

  Mary blushed, and put her head down. “No, Ma’am.”

  “And still so shy.” Elizabeth gently moved the long black curls that fell in front of Mary’s face. “I won’t embarrass you with more questions. You can tell your mother not to worry about me. I’m sure my appetite will return soon enough.”

  “She and Charles worry about you all the time, not eating, not leaving the house.” Abruptly, Mary put her hand to her mouth.

  Elizabeth leaned back slightly as her chin jutted forward. “So the staff gossip about me, do they?”

  Mary blushed. “No, Ma’am. They are just concerned. Please, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Elizabeth gently squeezed her hand. “I know they worry.” She looked toward the window. “Things will get back to the way they were when Cain returns.” She stroked the side of Mary’s face. “Now you should return to your duties. Your mother will be wondering what’s happened to you.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Will there be anything else, Ma’am?” she asked as she stood.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  As Mary was leaving the butler walked in. He glanced at Mary from the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. She is young.”

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrow. “So not only do the staff gossip, they also find it fitting to eavesdrop on me as well?”

  Charles bowed slightly. “With your forgiveness, Ma’am, but how else would I find out what was going go around here?”

  Elizabeth laughed. “I should dismiss the lot of you.” Then her face turned serious. “Any news from your nephew?”

  “I’m sorry, but he’s heard nothing of Master Cain since he left Pas de Calais two months ago.”

  Chapter 3

  When Elizabeth opened the window in the dimly lit room, the white rose clutched in her hand, he smiled at the sight. A gentle summer breeze ruffled her hair; he held his breath. You are more beautiful than words can convey. She leaned out of the window, her eyes staring in his direction. He stepped back further into the shadows. I will come visit you soon, my love.

  ***

  A week had passed since Elizabeth had found the flower on her bed. The thought of a stranger in her room had left her nervous. The staff insisted they knew nothing of the flower. She carried her cup of tea out into the garden and it rattled on the saucer with every step. She froze when she saw another white rose lying on the ornate garden table. A voice behind her made her jump and her cup fell to the ground. She looked behind her.

  “Oh, Charles, you gave me a fright.”

  Charles quickly bent down and retrieved the cup from the lawn. “My apologies, ma’am.” He frowned as he looked up at her. “Is everything all right?”

  She walked over to the table and picked up the rose. “Do you know anything about this?”

  Charles shook his head. “No.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Ma’am?”

  Her eyes were transfixed by the delicate flower. “It’s the same as the one that was left on my pillow last week.”

  ***

  Days passed without any further instances. Elizabeth had not been outside the house, but today was a beautiful day, the warm summer breeze enticed her out. She settled down with her pot of tea and her book. Time seemed to run away with itself. Before she knew it the light was failing as dusk approached. Just as she closed her book and was about to go inside a handsome stranger approached. He was of medium height with jet-black hair, a slim build, and the darkest eyes she had ever seen; she guessed he was in his middle thirties.

  Elizabeth got to her feet, her heart thumping. She swallowed hard, her mouth dry. “May I help you?” she inquired, a little shakily.

  In a very strange accent the man replied, “Good evening. My name is Vasile, and I have come to give you a gift.”

  Elizabeth looked puzzled for a second, then her face lit up. “Have you come from France with a message from my son? Do you have a message from Cain?”

  The man said nothing, just stared at her. The silence stretched on in to what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time as the seconds ticked by.

  “Sir, this is getting us nowhere. I really must ask you to state your business or leave,” Elizabeth said in a stern tone, trying to hide the rising panic in her gut.

  Vasile stepped closer and Elizabeth instinctively stepped back. There was something very odd about this man, something that scared her; his dark eyes felt like they were looking into her soul, ready to consume it. She looked behind, toward the house, hoping to see someone, anyone.

  “Charles.” She heard herself call out but it was
barely the shout she had intended.

  He smiled. “Do not be afraid.”

  The color drained from her face and her breath caught in her throat.

  He held his hand out toward her. “Since the moment I first laid eyes on you I knew we were meant to be together.”

  Elizabeth spun around quickly on her heels. “Charles!” she cried out, but then she felt a cold hand on her arm. An icy shiver ran through her entire body. But before she could scream, he appeared in front of her. “What do you want?”

  A gentle smile crossed his face. “You.” He watched her eyes widen, heard her heartbeat pounding in her chest, saw the beads of sweat appear on her forehead.

  She felt his grip loosen and she wrenched her arm from his hand. “You should leave. Charles will be here soon.”

  Vasile laughed. “Not soon enough.”

  Elizabeth turned to run but he pushed her, grabbing her by the arms as she landed on her back. She felt the strength in his hand as he pinned her to the ground. She tried to struggle but his grip was vice-like. She watched in horror as he opened his mouth, as wide as any animal, inches from her face. Saliva dripped from his fangs. She screamed. His breath smelt like death and she twisted her head from side to side, trying to evade his foulness.

  He leaned into the side of her face. “You are mine now,” he whispered.

  Her last thoughts were of Cain and tears streamed down her face before a searing pain coursed through her. He clamped his jaws down on her neck.

  Vasile closed his eyes, savoring every drop of Elizabeth’s blood. He slowly released his grip on her throat as her heartbeat became barely noticeable. He kissed her cheek then he sliced open his wrist with one of his fangs. He held his wrist over Elizabeth’s face and watched his blood slowly seep into her mouth and down her throat. A contented smile slowly grew on his face.

  ***

  Vasile was pleased with his new home. The very impressive entrance hall was bigger than most houses he had seen. There were interlinking drawing rooms with decorations inspired by Lord Nelson’s sea voyages and victories, and a long parlor, which was one of the most elegant rooms, decorated in gold, cream, yellow, and white. There was a ballroom that didn’t look like it had been used in a long time, and a lower dining room, for family meals, in which hung large paintings; he presumed they were family portraits, since he recognised Elizabeth in one of them. A great dining room for entertaining was covered in gothic style oak wall panelling, from which large tapestries and paintings hung. He was impressed as he walked through the very large library, which was shelved floor to ceiling with books. Vasile looked forward to exploring the rest of house, but first he had to deal with the staff.

  Vasile found the butler polishing the silver in the great dining room.

  “Good evening, Sir. I was not aware Lady Sutton had a visitor. I am Charles. May I be of service?”

  “I am Vasile, and Lady Sutton will be my companion from now on. How many staff are there working here?”

  “There are just four of us left, Sir.” Charles looked at the man who called himself by this strange name. Lady Elizabeth has not mentioned a foreign visitor, or that she was expecting any visitors at all. Why is this man so interested in the number of staff? Charles knew his place and it was not for him to question Lady Elizabeth’s guests, but he was going to keep his eye on this one.

  “Tell everyone to meet in the parlor in one hour.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Charles was dubious, but he thought Elizabeth would explain.

  ***

  One hour later, Charles entered the parlor and saw Lady Elizabeth lying on the chaise longue. She looked terrible, possibly dead. He hurried over to her. Vasile came up behind him, and with a swift blow knocked him unconscious just as two more of the staff, Tom and Mary, entered the room.

  They stood there open-mouthed. Vasile grabbed the young woman by her hair, and with his other hand grabbed the man’s head. He pulled the man toward him and ripped his throat open with his teeth. Mary screamed and fainted.

  When Charles came to, he found himself tied to a chair with Mary sobbing hysterically next to him. She, too, had been bound.

  Charles desperately tried to free himself. His face grew red under the strain of trying to force his arms up and down and side to side. The chair rocked boisterously but he could not free them. Eventually he stopped struggling. He asked Mary, “What happened?”

  “He killed my father,” she said, and looked over toward the door.

  Charles saw the gardener lying in a pool of blood. “Where’s your mother?”

  “I don’t know, and that monster…. What if he finds her?”

  ***

  “Tell me who you are,” Vasile said when he returned, looking at Mary.

  “I’m Mary. I’m just the maid.” She couldn’t bear to look at the strange man. To her, he was the devil himself.

  Vasile grinned as he looked down at the body. “Who was he to you?”

  “My father,” Mary said in a weak shaky voice.

  “Leave her alone,” Charles snarled.

  “Why is the cook not here?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I will get her myself.”

  “No! Please, leave her alone. Don’t hurt her.” Mary wanted to grab hold of him and stop him from finding her mother, but she was tied to a chair and just a small woman. Even if she were able to grab him, she knew she wouldn’t have the strength to stop him.

  “Why are you so worried about this woman?” Vasile again looked down at the body and then back to Mary. “Is she your mother?”

  “Yes. Please don’t hurt her,” she sobbed.

  Vasile smiled at Mary. “I hope your mother is as pretty as you.” He laughed as he left the room.

  “Please, Sir. I beg of you, don’t hurt her. I’ll do anything,” Mary called after him, but he didn’t return or answer her.

  She was inconsolable and Charles could do nothing to help.

  ***

  Vasile found the cook in the kitchen making bread. She was a heavyset woman with voluptuous bosoms. From the gray in her hair he judged her to be around fifty-years old. He thought she was still quite pretty, but in a plain sort of way. She had a kind face with deep laughter lines and milky eyes that he thought looked like they should be a brighter shade of brown.

  “Were you not told to go to the parlor?”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m just finishing up.” She began to feel very uncomfortable under his cold stare. “If you would allow me another few minutes, Sir, I will meet you in the parlor with the rest of the staff.” Goose bumps were appearing on her arms and a shiver went down her spine. She had always been a good judge of character and was certain this man was dangerous.

  Vasile picked up a large carving knife and slashed at the top of the cook’s dress, exposing most of her breasts. She screamed and tried to back away but he grabbed her arm with one hand and a breast with the other, the hand that held the knife. She stared at it horrified at the way he so casually allowed it to nick her skin.

  “These are very nice. You should be proud of them.”

  “Please, let me go. What do you want?” She desperately tried to gather her wits, to find some words that would save her. “Lady Elizabeth will not approve of your behavior.”

  Vasile just laughed at her bravado.

  She began to shake and couldn’t take her eyes off his. They were the blackest eyes she had ever seen. There was definitely something evil in them. The tears that had been building up in hers were now streaming freely down her face.

  “What I want is to play with these, and then watch you die as I take you. Lady Elizabeth will not care.” He started to laugh. “Are you very afraid? Do you want to try and run, to try and fight me?”

  She lashed out with her hands and nails as he began biting her breast and then licking the blood that ran from the wounds. She tried kicking and pushing him away, but he was far too strong.

  After he had finished torturing her, he slashed at her clothes with the knife until she was almost na
ked and covered in blood. As he entered her, he slowly slid the knife into her chest, all the time watching her eyes as she begged him to stop, laughing at her screams, smiling at her pain. He reveled in the power he had over human life, how easy it was for him to take it. He loved to see the life, the fire, go out in his victims’ eyes.

  ***

  When Vasile returned to the parlor he saw how Charles had managed to slide his chair over to where Elizabeth lay. He was calling her name, unable to free his arms to feel for a pulse. He didn’t want to admit that she might be dead, or not far from it.

  Mary noticed the blood on Vasile’s clothes. “Where’s my mother?” she yelled at him.

  “She’s in the kitchen.” He couldn’t help grinning at her. Ah, the thought of having this young girl for himself, to do with as he wished for a few days, pleased him. He wouldn’t kill her, not yet. He had other uses for her first.

  “What did you do to her? And what have you done to Lady Elizabeth?” Charles asked. He was scared for Mary, and he knew in his heart it was too late to help Lady Elizabeth.

  “Lady Elizabeth belongs to me now.”

  “What did you do? Why did you kill her? What had she done to you?” Charles demanded.

  “She’s not dead. When she wakes she will be stronger, faster, and eternally grateful for the gift I have given her.”

  “You should leave. We are expecting visitors,” Charles called out in vain. If what he said was true and Lady Elizabeth was not dead then time was of the essence to get her help. But in truth he was more afraid for Mary, and what this madman was capable of doing to the young girl.

  Vasile walked casually over to Charles. “What I want is for you to be quiet,” he hissed.

  Mary watched in horror as he clamped his hands around Charles’s throat. She could hear Charles gasping for air as his eyes bulged. “Stop, please stop! You’re killing him,” she screamed.

  Vasile lashed out with the back of his hand across her face. Mary’s head swung back as she and the chair were lifted into the air. They crashed to the floor where she lay unmoving, her arms still anchored to the broken pieces of wood she once sat upon.