Vampires' Butler

Chapter 1

The moonlight shined dully through the dirt encrusted window.  Dust blew around in the light like flies frenzying around a corpse. In the back of the room lay a dark polished oak coffin.  A sinister aura came from the wooden death box, as dust surrounded the coffin as if it be taboo to touch the beautiful wood. I crept up the old stairs and I felt my knee buckle as I reached out with shaking hands to open it. A voice in the back of my head was quietly nagging at me to turn back. As I lift up the lid, I think back to earlier in the day…

“I heard that place is haunted…” My portly friend Chad said as we drove our bikes past a black weather-worn mansion.

“Ghosts don’t exist dude, so that place can’t be haunted” I said as I pushed my glasses back on my face. Chad skids to a stop and glares at me.

“It is so! My sister told me that she heard from her friends’ sister that heard from her boyfriend, who heard from his friend, who heard from a guy named John, who heard from Eric, who heard from your mom that that house is haunted!” I look at him surprised.

“My mo-…” I didn’t get to finish my sentence because a large hulking figure towered above me.

“Hey Dweebster!” A deep voice crows. I sigh and push my glasses back up again.

“Hello Charles and my name is Dexter… D-E-X-T-E-R.” I say passively looking up at the large hulking chunk of flesh named Charles, He was dressed completely in black usually labelled as the “Tough Biker” look, even though he still only drove a 8-speed bike. Most people say Charles hit puberty at the age of 2, which would explain his hulking size, but both Chad and I know he only started bulking up at the age of 12, since his dad wanted him to be a famous hockey or football or something. Anyway back to the story.

“I go by Spike now, dipstick! And I don’t care what your name is Nerd.” He growls, glaring at me. Chad nudges me with elbow “Ix nay on the alking-tay!”

“Chub-face what are you saying? “ He asks snarling animalistically “Are you taking about me in you stupid fatty language!” He asks. If this were a cartoon I swear smoke would have been billowing from his ears… And his face would be purple.

“N-no Spike!” Chad stutters out “I was j-Just telling D-Dexter to shut u-up in pig-Latin! I s-swear!”

“Shut up Chub-Face. Anyway Nerd, heard you talking to fatty about the mansion NOT being haunted… Well I hear there’s a dead body in the attic… And if you’re feeling brave… You should go in there and steal the skull!”

I glare at him “I in no way wish to be convicted of trespassing, so Charles, go take your faux bravado elsewhere... “

He growls “What about for 50 bucks?”

“Although I know you never intend to pay me, the exploration of the mansion would be quite interesting…” I sigh “Fine, I’ll do it…”

Chad pales “D-Dexter! You don’t have to do this! What if you die!?”

I shrug “I doubt the house is that dilapidated …” I then turned to Charles “will you open the gate for me?”

He snorts tromping up to the highly rusted gate,  then he pushes off the moldy “for sale” sign.  Yanking the fence open it creaks loudly, and as if a spirit embodied the wind blew the several orange, red, yellow and brown leaves around the large acreage. I breathed in the scent of mildew and mud and walked up the cracked cobblestone path. As I climbed the stairs  I remembered an article I read in the Daily Rabble.

‘Although the old Crowe mansion has been in our town for centuries, yet despite its lengthily history none have forgotten the horrid past of this decrepit home… Centuries ago man name James Crowe had charmed many women into his luxurious abode, and none were ever seen again, accused of murder, they say he was killed and laid in coffin in his very home… Fact or Myth? This reporter will never know,’

Inside the house was old dusty furnishing, dusty wooden floors, and artistically carved wooden things everywhere, I looked around the room to find stairs, I clambered up the creaky stairs to find the way to the attic.

I walked along the long corridor, but stopped dead in my tracks in front of a peeling portrait of a young man in his early 20s’. He had raven black hair and chilling crimson eyes, he dressed in the average garb for an 18th Century Nobleman. He wore a black tailcoat and a white dress shirt and a red cravat with red ruby pendant on it. I’m not gay or anything but that man just screamed Elegant and Attractive. Below the picture was a gold engraved plate reading ‘Lord James Crowe 1836-1852’

The disgusting scent of must, mold, and decayed wood was in the air as I walked up to the attics’ pull string, as I reached out to pull it, it snapped and the door and a row of ten stairs snapped down and hit me on the head, there’s was a sharp pain and everything went black.

End of Chapter 1…