Chapter 15

Mare Adams Diary

March 13

3:15am

I woke in a fright, thinking that I will see Isiah sitting astride his mother’s chest, his face drenched in her blood. I know it is just a dream, but it has left me shaken. The look on the child’s face when it stared at me. Pure evil. I had never seen or felt anything like that. The very thought gave me shudders. As I lay there, attempting to regain my composure, I heard a noise. Very much like the same noise I heard the night poor Sarah died. I dared not move a muscle as I waited for the sound again. Minutes passed. It seemed I was over-tired.

Earlier in the day James Fountain came to the house to repeat his offer of wanting me as a partner. He offered a very generous amount of money for the girls and I to move our belongings, traipse across town, and ensconce ourselves in what he termed a bastion of decadent living!  A place he swore, was worth more than all of us put together. A phrase to which Fountain meant no offense to us working gals of course. When I refused his offer the pleasant light in Fountain’s eyes went out, snuffed like a candle in a storm. His already considerable brows knitted together, and he leaned over me in an intimidating manner.

“Look here whore! I need this building and shall have it! And not you, your dirty, lice-ridden saddle-bag bleeders, or anyone will keep me from it! Understand?”

The shimmery, gentlemanly manner was completely gone now and I saw Fountain for what I knew he was. A brute of a man. His mouth was a jagged slit, displaying crooked teeth and a small tongue which darted snakelike, in and out of his mouth as he spoke. Fountain grabbed hold of my wrist and tried to jerk me forward. Instead of fear, he met the pointed end of my Bowie knife. I pressed the silver blade into his gut; just enough for Fountain to gasp. His eyes widened and he backed away, but I kept the point connected to his belly.

“The last man who threatened me came away with a scar on his face, and er…a somewhat less prodigious southern tip if you take my meaning. So, please take your kind offer, slink from my doorstep, and if I see you, or any of your hired scoundrels lurking nearby, I will call upon my dock friends. Am I clear Mr. Fountain?”

His face turned beet red as he stammered. I could see the curse on his lips, but a quick flick of the knife reminded him of his manners, while also separating him from one of the buttons on his trousers. Fountain half-fell, half-ran down my stairs, holding his pants up, and scurried away into the throng of people going about their daily business.

The thought of this encounter made me smile as I lay in bed.

Then…I heard the sound once more.

I bolted upright, wrapped my robe around my shoulders, grabbed the Bowie from the nightstand, and crept into the hall. We had a slow night earlier so I gave the girls the evening off. After a few fun hours, they went to bed to take advantage of much needed rest. As was my custom, I had stayed up later than them pouring over the ledger books. The house was darker than usual. Did I forget to light the hallway lamps?

The sound! I could not make out if it was furniture being moved, or a body falling. The sound was coming from upstairs, so I willed myself to walk the short flight to the third floor. Sound carried down the hallway toward me; the source: Sarah’s room. Ice-water crawled through my veins and goosebumps lifted on the little exposed skin showing from under my robe. Despite this fear, I moved down the hallway, one foot leading the other. The door stood in stark relief, seeming to beckon me. I moved forward as if carried along on invisible strings, dragging my heavy feet, unable to resist the insidious force on the other side of the door.

I bumped the door with my nose without any memory of having come that far.

I reached my hand out for the knob. Before I could grasp it, the knob turned of its own volition and the door swung open. Darkness seemed to drift from the room, or was it mist? The darkness flowed around my ankles, swirling up near my waist, over my shoulders, and through my hair. The touch of the mist as gentle as a caress. Then it seemed as if someone nudged me from behind. I glanced over my shoulder, but there was no one there. I stumbled over the threshold and stood in the center of the room.

It was empty…

The fog on my mind seemed to lift, but my heart hammered a thundering melody inside my chest. I could think clearly, but try as I might, I could not shake the feeling of being watched. I spun in a slow, torturous circle, and when I completed the evolution Sarah was laying on the bed.

I clamped my hand to my mouth to stop the nerve-shredding scream threatening to erupt from deep within me. Sarah smiled and I noticed the long, sharp canine teeth in her mouth. I also noticed her red lips. Full and moist. A pressure built in my stomach and I felt both revulsion and something else.

My Bowie knife tumbled from my nerveless fingers, burying itself into the floor.

“Come here Mare. Let me look on you.”

I willed my feet to stay rooted where I was, but curse them! I walked the three short steps to the bed before I could stop myself. She sat up in bed and purred, laying her head on my breast.

“You were the only one willing to search for my boy. The only one who wanted to help us. He’s gone now, but I want you to know how much I love you for that Mare! You, who always took care of us, or me; even before my sweet boy was born! Yes, I’ll be forever grateful, and that’s why I’m here Mare. To give you a gift!”

I trembled as she spoke. Each tone was sweet, but with the cloying quality of sickness given corporeal life. I tried to speak but instead of my voice, a croaking sound trickled out. Sarah laughed, made some motion with her hand, then I was able to speak.

“I never understood how weak we all are. Weak of mind. Weak of body. So much potential locked away, waiting to be unsealed. That is what I give to you Mare. A chance at being MORE than this world has to offer you! The chance to change your station in life forever!”

“What gift?” I asked, fear sliding through me.

Sarah cupped my face in her hands. I could feel power coursing through her cold hands. So much power that I was certain Sarah could rip my face apart if she wished.

“I’m a part of something greater now Mare. The Master liberated me and showed me what life truly is! But not all can be as we are. Only a few who are turned can enjoy the full gift. The rest are drones sent out to do her bidding; carrion birds taking flight on the meat that is all around us. I spoke to her about you Mare. I told her of your uncompromising will. Of your heart for women! If you agree, I can show you a better path and we can rule together as women!”

I was stunned, horrified…and curious.

As a woman, I had always been told I was less than men. Always shown I was less than. Everything I had achieved in my perilous life I had accomplished in spite of men. And yet, I still served at the pleasure of men; as did my girls. Sarah smiled. But not the gloating smile of conquest I was expecting but a tender smile of friendship; of kinship.

“I know you’re afraid of what you don’t understand Mare…so I’ll give you a sample of this life.”

Before I could react, Sarah grabbed my wrist and brought it to her lips. A sting and then I slid into a state of bliss and euphoria I have never experienced. Not even during any pleasurable activity. I felt Sarah’s lifeforce flow into and through me. The room shifted and blurred around me. Sounds were muffled. Every hair on my body stood on end. I heard the branches whispering their silent song outside the house. All my senses were heightened even as the pain lessened until it diminished altogether. I sensed the swirling mist flowing around me, then I was alone in the room. Sarah’s voice echoed in my mind though.

“I’ll come back and take you to see the Master soon! Till then sweet Mare!”

Her presence was gone. However, I still felt her with me in that small room. And now, the dread was gone. It was replaced by wonder and something more powerful…excitement.

3:30am

I walked back down the stairs, heading to my room when I noticed one of the girl’s doors open. I must have not have paid any attention before. I walked over with the intention of closing it, peeked inside and saw Olga laying half on, half off her bed. I assumed the poor dear had been sleep-walking, so I entered the room and tiptoed over to her bed.

Something wet underfoot made me slip.

I fell onto my back, crashed down, knocking over a small table and chair. The sound surely woke the entire house. A few minutes later voices sounded in the hall. I clambered to my knees trying to find the source of the water. But, to my horror I realized it was not water I had slipped in.

It was blood.

Olga’s throat and wrists had been pierced. Two small punctures leaked her life’s blood onto the wooden floorboards. Her long-dead eyes stared into mine, accusing me of allowing a monster into our house. Several of the girls came in the room and screamed, but I did not turn or acknowledge them. I continued to stare into Olga’s eyes.

She was right. It was my fault. I had allowed a monster inside our house, not once, but twice. What had I done?