CONTENT WARNING: ableism, transphobia, mentions of domestic violence and death, violence, scenes of horror (I'd they aren't too bad, but if you're easily spooked then it might be an issue.)
Oskar
Goodness! What's taking him so long? I may have all the time in the world, but that doesn't mean I want to spend it waiting for his dreary speech! And where on Earth is Katlego?
I see her finally make her way down the stairs, whispering in my ear that she had to 'powder her nose'. Why do I need to know that?
A few minutes later, and Annorin arrives. As he reaches the podium he proudly put out, I notice that his features are green and hideous, like an evil witch from a storybook. Katlego's work, no doubt, and the magic she guards so closely...So she wasn't 'powdering her nose' after all. She was giving Annorin a makeover instead- a magical one.
"Ladies and gentleman, I thank you all for joining me in the celebration of my achivements over the years, and the advancements in science, medicine and...Oh, would you stop the raucous laughter? You're all adults!"
"I must say, Father, it's rather an improvement!"
The din of laughter only grows. Owen, especially, is in tears. The thought of such a figure of the community in such a mortifying state seems to override any concern for exactly who or what made him look that way.
"Now, now, everyone, quieten down," Owen says, failing to stifle the last of his giggles. "The pickle is talking."
"Very funny, Owen...It seems there's been an...incident of sorts, but I will not let it get in the way of this wonderful evening. Both as friends and as loyal customers, I must thank you all for your support. If it were not for you and for San Myshuno, then I likely would not have-"
"Oh, don't you start," Katlego chimes in. Everyone glares at her like she's just shot an arrow in his face mid-speech. "If you weren't scamming a whole other country then you'd still have this mansion and your riches. You'd be living off of old dirty money as opposed to new dirty money."
The gasps...some of them have an air of 'how could she?' and others have an air of excitement for the potential drama that could come out of this situation...I'm intrigued. It's like the page before the big twist in a novel.
"Anything else you'd like to say, Katlego?"
"Oh, yes! How kind of you to ask. I have some fun stories for you all. Whether or not you believe me, well..."
She explains what happened in Henford, about Annorin framing Henry to give her contaminated herbs which ended up making many poorer people ill. Alongside the angry mob outside of her door, Annorin only influenced their rage, and as such, she was forced to flee. New to the country, just wanting to share her craft and make a little coin.
The room falls silent, and all eyes are on Annorin, mostly skeptical looks- but I know she's telling the truth.
Now, Katlego- show them the letter.
"You all think I'm lying, don't you? You think I'm a poor woman who's falsely accusing a rich man for his coin, don't you? I don't care for his money. I only care to reveal Annorin for the fraud he truly is!"
She whips the letter out of his pocket. Annorin almost goes to grab it from her, but he realises that he wouldn't be helping his case if he did. At first, even after reading out the letter, people don't seem to believe her- that is, until his son pipes up.
"Katlego? Would you mind if I read the letter?"
At first, she hesitates. "Very well."
Owen saunters forward, carefully taking the paper from her hand. He mumbles to himself as he reads it, narrowing his eyes, and narrowing them again when he gets to the bottom of the page.
"Unbelievable..."
After a pregnant pause, he slams the letter back in Katlego's hand- only his ire isn't directed at her.
"Everyone...This is definitely my father's letter. His wording, his signature... I believe this woman is telling the truth," he explains, with all the theatricals of a player in his first public performance. He turns back to face his father. I do wonder why he's so quick to turn on Samuel like that? His own father? When Eli told me he'd been in San Myshuno for five years healing the sick and wealthy, I would've thought he'd have gone as far as to lie to defend him.
"What do you think our ancestors would think of this folly, Father? Kicking out a woman not even making one percent of your wage because you see her as competition? We didn't earn the symbol of the gryphon by being like this, did we? We earned the symbol of the gryphon for our tenacity and ruthlessness no matter how presitigous our competition was. Wasting time and resources on an expatriate cunningwoman?"
"What on Earth is the matter with you, Owen? You believe her over your own father?!"
"As a matter of fact, I do," he says, proudly, as his pride spirals back into anger. "And did we earn the symbol of the gryphon by beating our children when they criticised us, Father?"
"What are you-"
"I saw what you did to Eli! Don't rule over him with fear as you tried to do with me!"
The spell had worn off, and the crowd gasps, looking around for the witch. Annorin's face is etched with defeat.
"So now both my sons seek to insult me? You believe this woman over me?"
"Owen, why don't you go and read the ledger on your father's desk?"
"The ledger? What are you- how do you know-"
This is the most fun I've had in a while.
"Now, I'm sure that everyone wouldn't be so small-minded to believe-"
"What on Earth do you call this, Father?!"
Owen storms down the stairs, ledger in hand, reading various entries at the top of his voice. A man who had more than enough money pilfering what he could from carriages, boats, anything of the sort...
Kat's expression remains mocking, but I know deep down, she's seething. This man is the reason she's stuck here in dreary Henford. Then again, at least upon a revelation like that, it's counteracted by the revelation of Annorin's own wrongdoings.
Everyone's jeers and yells of criticism feel like a pot-and-kettle situation. The only difference between them and him is that their dark secrets and misdeeds are either under lock and key, or they haven't been found out yet. And what better to point the finger outwards instead of inwards? No, they may feel like they've gotten away with all they've done, but little do they know who's lurking with them tonight.
"My, my, how mortifying," Regan exclaims. "And to think such a pillar of the medical community would go as far as to leech off of small fry. What happened to all of this being your own hard work? All of those speeches over the years..."
The man is a cowering mess on the floor. It may only be these few for now, but news quickly spreads among the wealthy. Of course, they have no sympathy for Katlego or anyone else. They just think of Annorin as a laughing stock. Nevertheless, Katlego got what she wanted...Myself, on the other hand...I'm not finished yet.
The great gryphon, a blubbering mess on the floor whilst his former friends and supporters point and laugh. All empty words- no apologies, no promise to change- just self-pity. Once he's done bawling into the carpet, he retires to his bedroom. The elites chatter and gossip and chuckle amongst each other about the whole ordeal. Katlego decides to take her leave already.
"Going so soon, Katlego?"
"I appreciate your help, Oskar, but I must leave now, before I let my temper get the better of me. I won't forget what you did for me. Thank you."
"If you say so...And thank you also, Katlego. Take care of yourself...I'm going to hang around a little while, whilst the drama is high," I reply, with a laugh.
Strangely, she doesn't give me a distrusting look like I expect her to. She must know why I'm choosing to stay. Then again, she did just find out that Annorin not only had her booted out of Henford, but affectively booted her out from returning home. If I were her, I wouldn't care if my partner-in-crime had a more direct kind of revenge up his sleeve.
* * *
Everyone made the most of the food and drink before they left. The women left first, some accompanied by their partners. The only people left were Owen, Regan, and some other man whose name I don't remember, though I remember his tirades about those from across the seas all too well.
The hunger had become a burning in my veins and my stomach, and an aching in my joints. First, I had to convince Owen to leave.
I don't give him my address to check in on his brother; I didn't trust him enough to do so, though Owen tells me he plans to stay in the mansion and revise his business strategies. Whether or not this is reform or pure damage control, I'm not entirely sure...but I suppose change for the better is change for the better. I encourage him to go and clear his head, that the crisp midnight air is good for the mind.
As he leaves, Regan and the other gentleman cheer behind me.
"Good on you for your part in revealing Annorin to be the embarassment that he is."
"Oh, indeed! To think a man like that could be as parasitic as that...Well, why does it matter? It's a dog-eat-dog world, isn't it? I suppose Annorin just didn't think he'd ever be the dog being eaten!"
Regan's laughter is like the scrape of a chalk against slate. My fingers clench into near-fists. Primal instincts begin to sneak their way in. These people have had their entire futures paved with gold and coddled along the way. They know nothing of true ruthlessness.
"Interesting...And how do you see yourself, then, Regan Ember? Which dog are you?"
I see his eyes widen through his fanciful mask. The masquerade grew so tiring, so quickly. All throughout my life, there was always something to cover up. There won't be any masquerade tonight. Not anymore.
"One moment- do I recognise you? I could've sworn you were the..."
His words fade out. I go from staring at people to staring at sacks of blood and flesh, their heartbeats almost synchronised, grating as the ticking of a timepiece, and yet so irresistible...
"Just because Annorin was found out, you both think you've gotten away with it, don't you? Tell me, how are either of you any different to him?"
Both of them freeze; the voice always makes them stand bolt upright. Their heartbeats begin to pick up in tempo, a duet of indescribable fear. I feel as if I'm back on the battlefield, the werewolves at my side, about to run my sword through another witchfinder.
I grab Regan by the throat. His pulse pounds under my fingertips. The other man cries out, frozen in fear.
The bitterness again, only this time it's almost pleasant to the palate. As much as I want to keep going, to drain him until he's a pale and lifeless sack of skin, bone and giblets, but I don't plan on breaking my promise to Katlego.
Regan's unconscious body drops with a thud to the floor, but I'm not done yet. Regan was still drained from earlier; drinking from him didn't sate me at all.
The other man begins to shift himself from his backside.
He can run, if he likes. He won't outrun me, and it'll get the blood rushing.
His attempts at garnering my nonexistent sympathy are fun for a few seconds, but I ought to drink from him whilst the blood is still rushing.
The taste of his blood is hard to describe. The taste reminds me of the upper-class towns of Henford, the scent of rusted metal and petrichor upon the concrete, with a salty aftertaste.
I haven't drank like this since my days as a soldier. Whilst Henford had bought my emotions out a little, there's an explosion of warmth inside my chest, euphoric and nostalgic. I almost forget to stop. I don't bother to try and stop the bleeding. I toss him to the floor the same way I did to Regan. The two will wake up, at some point. There's a good chance that, after tonight, everyone in Henford will know the truth about me- but it doesn't matter. As they say, those who don't mind matter and so on...and those who do mind can either keep their lips sealed or become tomorrow's supper.
I'm not used to being this sated. The blood itself is refreshing and energising, but the uncomfortable overfull sensation in my stomach is making me a little lethargic and nauseous- but there's little time to rest when the last of the quarry is upstairs. I can't drink his blood, but I can make the rest of his life a living nightmare.
I come out of my vampiric form and haul myself up the stairs, grabbing on tight to the banisters. It'll take a few minutes for my stomach to settle, but that'll give me plenty of time to toy around with Annorin. I can already hear him yelling from his room.
"What's going on down there? Don't come in here!"
"I said don't come in here!"
I enter anyway. His face when he sees it's me...
"Oh, don't look at me like that. You've voiced your suspicions enough about me. Are you at all surprised to see me?"
"What...what happened to your face? What happened downstairs- What- who- what are you?!"
Poor little Annorin. He thought he was safe in his big mansion away from all the working people.
"What do you think I am, Annorin? Other than a nuisance, anyhow?"
He gulps before he responds. "At this point..."
"I'll give you a clue. The little baby who made those 'helpful' dents in all of your Nivelheim furniture? You're talking to him right at this moment."
It's always fun when their eyes look like they're about to pop out of their sockets. I've confirmed his suspicions of my mortality, but part two of this fun quiz- which immortal creature could I possibly be?
"You're a fae, aren't you? The good people, the fair folk, whatever's polite! I saw you earlier, waltzing around in that dress! The lunacy, the way you like to mess with people's minds, the fanciful clothes, the graceful-"
"Goodness, Annorin! Are we listing reasons I'm one of the fae, or are you about to ask me if I want to stay for dinner?"
"By the Watcher..."
"Ah, the Watcher can't help you now," I chirp. "No, no, many people thought I was a fae when I was a child. Fae this, changeling that. They asked my parents to abandon me. But they didn't. I survived, unfortunately for you."
Annorin narrows his gaze. No wonder his eyebrows are so wrinkled. "Are you done?"
"No. You see, I thought that, as a bloodline caster, you'd be more understanding of the world of the occult, but instead you chose to blend in with the humans. You chose to make yourself palatable for them whilst throwing everyone else with magic in their blood under the horse and carriage."
I feel a momentary sense of calm at knowing retribution is a hair's breadth away.
"No, Annorin, I'm not a fae. Guess again- what other spooky magical creatures can live for a very, very, very long time?"
The gasp seals it.
"...The vampires have been dead for years!"
"Evidently, they haven't, or I wouldn't be standing here, would I, Annorin? Who would've thought a magical bloodline would be so suspicious of a vampire? You think you're so different from us, don't you? Do you think the witchfinders would spare you if they knew your secret ingredient of magic?!"
"So why didn't you tell them, then? Why didn't you just go the whole way?!"
"Because they'd have likely sent witchfinders to come and kill you. I don't want anyone else to have the satisfaction of killing you."
He trembles when he hears the voice.
"Stop talking! It's like six voices at once!"
"Herr Nivelheim, I'll give you anything you want. I have riches beyond-"
"You think I'd care for your riches, Annorin? You're talking to the son of one of the most prestigious woodworkers this side of the ocean!"
The thrill of this new power is exhilarating; it must be the overindulgence that brought on these changes. The claws, and what feels like wings on my back...I almost feel angelic, but not like the ones on the Winterfest cards. Like the angels from the archaic spiritual texts, terrifying bringers of judgment, incomprehensible to mortals.
"You'd have figured all of this out if you'd have kept in touch with your blood. A man of science is too obsessed with observance and reason to consider the very real things that exist outside of what you can see or explain-"
"The 'very real' things that exist outside of observance and explanation are only real to the deeply-mad, Herr Nivelheim! Eli told me everything- your mannerisms, your weaknesses of temperament...I never did manage to find a cure for what ails you. Of course, your parents decided to raise you despite it when you should've been killed or thrown in an asylum!"
I've had enough.
I shove him into the wall, and pull him around so he's facing me. He won't make eye contact with me.
"You can mock me all you like, Annorin, but your fate remains the same- not just for what you did to the children of Henford, but what you did to your own child!"
He's still not looking at me.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, Annorin!"
"In all my years upon this earth, I've raised children whose biological parents ditched them or didn't care for them. Every single one of those times, those responsible were already dead. This is the first time in one hundred and sixty years that I get to give a man like you exactly what he deserves."
"This is all it's about?" he croaks. "What I did to Eli?"
"Not just what you did to Eli. What all those fathers before you did. What you did to the children of Henford, letting them die because you were too tight to part with your cures or your knowledge. Getting the affordable healer removed from town. I could go on forever about the multitude of reasons that I despise you, Annorin, but I'm bored of toying with you."
He should know it's worthless running now, but Annorin always seems to think he's one step ahead, even when he's lost the race entirely.
For everything that he did, he deserves no less than what I'm about to do to him.
When he falls to the carpet, he looks at me almost thankfully, like I'm going to kill him and end his torment.
That's the easy way out.
"You won't die tonight, Annorin- but not by my choice. If you escape this with your throat intact, then thank Katlego Anansi for her mercifulness after all that you did to her."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oskar's little speech is partially based on this quote which I think is from Bram Stoker's Dracula: 'Do you not think that there are things which you cannot understand, and yet which are; that some people see things that others cannot? But there are things old and new which must not be contemplate by men´s eyes, because they know -or think they know- some things which other men have told them. Ah, it is the fault of our science that it wants to explain all; and if it explain not, then it says there is nothing to explain.'