She sat idly in the centre of the dreary room. Her head drooped forwards gracelessly whilst her matted hair shielded her saddened features from disappointed eyes. Her corset still shone as brilliantly as the day she chose to wear it, gleaming an alluring purple in the filtered light of the new moon.
She let loose her head from it's invisible noose and raised it quickly, apprehension flooding her bloodstream as the sound of heavy oaken doors creaked through the antiquated house.
"Weston?!" she called; though it came as more of a dry whimper, nevertheless the faithful manservant poked his head around the flaky black paint of the door,
"Yes, my Lady?" he asked, a warming, fake smile stretching across his pale face, his Lady smiled back, though the crimson smears across her cheeks gave a vision of insanity rather than of the innocent friendly gesture she had intended,
"Who was that Weston?" She asked anxiously, the fire that had once raged within her irises beginning to smolder again. Weston hesitated for a moment, hoping he could keep her beautiful fire's smoldering a few precious moments more,
"It w- It was- It was the new chef, my Lady," Already her fires dwindled and her head slipped back into it's dead man's noose. Weston exhaled heavily in despair and placed a platter of blood-packs on the floor next to her,
"Eat well, my Lady." He chirped falsely, shutting the golden latticed door behind him.
Jess sat alone on the harsh cold of the marble bridge facing the manor, she often chose to sit here to mock it's inhabitants from afar, after all they were desperate for her presence and she was desperate not to give it. Gazing longingly into the depths of the stars she sighed heavily as the scars of her memories crept up on her: The same terrible event had started resonating through her thoughts ended with the same soul shattering screams and pleas,
"M-Mummy! no please, Jessica! It hurts Jessica! Tell Mummy to stop! No!" Jess drew the portcullis of her eyelids, fastened them tightly and plunged her head into her lap, weeping softly. A butler's hand rested on her shoulder, a warming, familiar hand,
"My lady misses you Jessica," Said the white gloved hand that Jessica had adored since she had learned to walk,
"Weston..." she whimpered, pushing her teary face into the manservant's abdomen,
"How could she do that to me Weston?!" she bawled, her muffled speech barely reaching the ears of the compassionate vampire
,"How?!" She cried, pulling Weston tighter to her. Weston stroked her velvet locks of hair, rocking back and forth gently; For all her years Jess had never truly grown up.
Abel sniffed at the filthy night air,
"Have we still got him chained up, Sis?" he asked, his intentions transparent from the moment he started talking. Cynthia shot him a cold stare and exhaled in an irritated fashion,
"Stay still, you idiot! You've broken your arm in four places and fractured your collar bone... Twice." Abel cocked an eyebrow and pulled his bottom lip over his top lip,
"You mean you did?" he asked, remembering the instant where he'd been thrown from the motorcycle and collided with the granite wall. A quick blow to the back of his head from his ever so caring sister brought back his memories,
"No wait... I jumped didn't I?..." He asked, scratching at the wild hairs growing on his chin, Cynthia bent his arm towards her sharply and suddenly (much to the surprise of Abel whom had felt no pain from this "broken arm") it became much easier to move his arm around,
"Could I always roll my shoulder?!" he asked in excitement, rolling his right shoulder back and forth with an infant grin on his lips,
"Now we can go see him." Said Cynthia, reluctantly gesturing for Abel's hand.