Vincent could help but smile when Anya squealed from the stop of the stairs at his arrival.
“Baron” she grinned bouncing giddily, clearly over the moon to see him. “It’s been so quiet without you”
“I didn’t realise I was so noisy?” he replied, chuckling at the irony “I’m quite sure no-where could ever be quiet with you around”
“Well it was” she grinned, running down the stairs towards him,
Suddenly she lurched seeming to lose her balance, slipping she began to fall. Instinct suddenly took him, leaping forward with inhuman speed he raced to meet her, catching her before she landed.
“Watch yourself” he smiled, holding her in his arms he suddenly hoped she’d not caught on to what had happened.
“You have good reactions” she whispered burying her face into his hair.
“Yes I do” he answered warily. “Are you alright? Did you just trip?”
“I don’t know” she replied seeming confused. “I just felt really dizzy suddenly”
“Are you sick?”
Looking up she smiled “No I’m fine” she replied “I just missed you that’s all”
“I missed you too” he smiled truthfully. “So why aren’t you in bed?” he asked.
“I was waiting to see if you came home?”
“Did you wait up every night?” he asked, surprised how much the thought warmed him.
“Yes” she nodded “But you kept disappointing me”
“Im sorry” he replied, placing her back down on the floor “I would never want to do that, now run along to bed I’ll come to you shortly. I have a few things to do”
Watching as she ran off he could scarcely believe how fond of her he’d become he headed down the stairs to the cellar. Finding Allard outside Marcus’s cellar he tried to smile at his steward but judging from his face he was in no mood to laugh. “How his he?” he dared.
“See for yourself” Allard replied solemnly moving out of the barred window.
Peering inside, he could see Marcus on the floor of the cell, blood streaked the wall’s and lay in dark pools across the tiles. It had clearly been a tough two weeks, he’d taken huge chunk’s of flesh from his legs and wounds festered and oozed, but worst of all he was now missing an arm upto the elbow.
Having cannibalised his own body desperate to retrieve whatever vitae the flesh still held, reason and logic too far gone to realise the more the ate the hungrier he got, as his body expended the vampiric blood to try and heal him.
Looking up he seemed to notice Vincent’s presence, his eye’s wild face streaked with blood he hissed like a zombie raised from its grave and with the same hunger it sensed his blood, skittering closer to the door it eye’d him up hungrily. All sign’s of the once kind, loving young man Vincent once knew long gone… hunger and pain where all that remained.
Shaking his head sadly Vincent tapped the iron door… “Just another three days Marcus… just another three days” he whispered before walking away.