The Creator of the Undead

For the Haunted Garden Halloween Hop, I thought I’d post a Halloween Flash Fiction with my characters from Love’s Eternal Embrace and Twilight’s Eternal Embrace. I hope you enjoy the tale!

The Creator of the UN-DEAD by KAREN MICHELLE NUTT

1854 In Clontarf on the north side of Dublin, Ireland.

No matter where they traveled, Adryanna chose a family to befriend. They could not stay long in their lives, but Bram indulged Adryanna’s need to feel human, as this century coined the daywalkers.

Abraham and Charlotte had seven children, a lively bunch. The third child, young Abraham was a sickly boy and had been ill all his life.

Adryanna and Bram would spend hours in front of the fire and tell stories to amuse Abraham and Charlotte’s family. The children enjoyed the tales. Young Abraham, the sickly child especially liked the tales they told about the blood drinkers. Of course the stories were more like legends or faery-tales than of truth. These stories were invented to protect their kind, not to expose them. With so many different tales, no one but fanatics believed blood drinkers existed. In truth, some blood drinkers should be feared, but not all…not Adryanna… and not him. 

“Abraham is my favorite.” Adryanna looked at Bram as they stood outside the home, after one of their visits. “I know I should not choose a favorite, but I sense greatness in the child.”

He lifted one brow. “He probably will not live to adulthood. You do realize this?”

Adryanna stroked his arm then clasped his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. “He is passionate and has an imagination waiting to be born.”

When Adryanna was changed, her ability to read people enhanced to the point she could almost dictate what they would become. She did not need a crystal ball or a tarot card. “Time will tell, aye?” Bram hugged her close.

“Mmm…hmm. We could help him.”

“Help him, how?”

Her gray eyes turned a shade darker. “Our blood could make him well, give him a chance for a future.”

Bram shook his head. “No, we cannot interfere.” As he told her on all the other occasions they stepped in and helped poor souls.

“Our stories stir something in the boy. He likes the stories of the un-dead. He will pen the tales one day—in his own words of course. I want the lad to live.” For a moment, sadness shifted over her features. He knew the look, recognized it as one he had himself. They never had a child and it wasn’t from lack of passion on their part. It just wasn’t meant to be. The vampyre, the un-dead as they were now called often enough, were incapable of producing life from the womb. Creation came from making another adult like them, a hybrid.

“He can never be our son,” he said gently and she gave him a whisper of a smile.

“I know my love, but we can give him life in the only way we know how.”

Bram glanced at the house, his gaze resting on the window where young Abraham slept. “We can only give him enough blood to make him thrive.”

“He is a child. I did not mean for you to change him. That would prove cruel since he would never age. I only meant for you to give him a fighting chance in the world of humans. Heal him…for me.”

He could never deny her, especially when the idea mirrored his own desires. He nodded, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before he left her side and flitted to the window where Abraham slept. The window was cracked just slightly to allow fresh air to drift in. The night was still young and the others of the house had yet to retire. Only Abraham had been tucked into bed. He stepped into the room, surprised that the child was not fast asleep. He sat up in bed, not frightened in the least. Curiosity shaped his features.

“I was right,” the boy said in breathless wonderment.

Bram furrowed his brows. “You were?”

“Aye, you are one of them, are you not? You are one of the un-dead.” He nearly clapped his hands with glee.

Intuitive fellow. Perhaps Adryanna was right.

“Are you and your wife one of the dreach-fhola that guard the Magillycuddy reeks in Kerry?”

Bram’s lips curved. The child’s memory was good if anything. Adryanna had helped to spin the tale of the blood-drinking faeries that lived in the Castle of the Blood Visage. They helped the kings rule and win battles in exchange for blood. Nothing of the sort ever happened like this, but it kept up the myth that nightwalkers were only figments of a creative mind. 

“Something of the sort,” Adryanna said. Both Bram and Abraham turned toward the window where Adryanna now stood. Her warm colored strands glimmering reddish-gold in the candlelight. “But you have no need to fear me or Bram, young Abraham. We are your friends.”

Young Abraham nodded his head too happy to agree. “My blood would not be potent, I think.” His cheery outlook failed for a moment. No doubt thinking about his weaken state.

“No matter. We need you for another reason than blood,” Bram told the boy.

“What is it?” the lad’s childish voice whispered.

“We need you to keep our secret. You must not reveal that you know what we are and for your secrecy, we would like to grant you good health.”

The child’s eyes lit up at the prospect. “Good health.” He nodded his head. “Aye, I shall never reveal your secret. But would it be all right for me to tell other stories about the un-dead? I so do love those stories the best.”

“Aye, as long as you betray the tales as fantasy. We have a deal then. Aye?” Bram held out his hand and the boy took it. His hand felt frail in his grasp, but that would soon change. Bram slit his wrist, letting the blood ooze from the wound. “A small taste and your health will improve. Of this I promise.”

Young Abraham looked to Adryanna. Bram did not need to glance at her to know she encouraged the child with a smile. Young Abraham lowered his lips to Bram’s wrist. He did not flinch or choke, but bravely drank the blood that would change his life.

When Bram knew the boy had enough, he tucked the child back in bed. Adryanna and he left the way they had entered, leaving the child to his dreams.

“You know we can never see the lad again,” he told her as they strode away from the house.

“Aye, I know.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her lips were curved in a smile. He pulled her close to his side. “We could travel abroad, perhaps America.”

She nodded. “I would welcome the change.”

****

It was now 1897 and Bram thought to never think of this incident with young Abraham again, but as time moved on where they touched other lives, their efforts had not gone unnoticed. A couple approached them out of curiosity and they could not refuse meeting with them. They were of their kind, not of the Oiche Sith sept, but nightwalkers.

Bram held the manuscript, a rough copy with corrections and notes from the author. He couldn’t help but smile at the title of the story as it brought back memories of Ireland and a family they befriended in Clontarf so long ago. 

“I do not believe the tale is meant to be humorous.” Liam Cantwell chuckled. “It is about our kind, in a sense…with a demented twist I might add. I rather liked the author’s imagination regarding the un-dead.” They met Liam at theater with his lovely wife, Glamis. Preternatural beings tended to guard each other suspiciously until trust was earned. Liam had insisted they join him at his hotel for dinner and drinks. Adryanna and he rather enjoyed the Cantwells’ company. It had been sometime since they spoke with another blood drinker.

The Cantwells were from the Dearg-due clan near Waterford, not the Oiche Sith near the sea, that much they knew. However, what Liam wanted from them was another story entirely. One Bram was determined to uncover.

Adryanna moved beside Bram to take a closer look at the manuscript. “It is young Abraham’s tale, is it not?” She paused a moment and Bram knew she did the calculation of time in her head. “He would be an old man by now.”

“As you can see the manuscript is titled: The Un-Dead,” Liam informed them. “Actually the printed book has a new title: Dracula. A last minute change perhaps.”

“The story is about the dreach-fhola that guard the Magillycuddy reeks then?” Adryanna asked in surprise, her gaze riveting to Bram. They told young Abraham the story. They thought with time he’d eventually forget about the tales and…of them. He’d been so young when they disappeared from his life.

Liam shook his head and chuckled. “You misunderstand, but I see why since the Irish pronunciation of dreach-fhola sounds the same as the English pronunciation of Dracula.” He spelled the name out for their benefit. “Perhaps there is some hidden meaning behind his choice of the title.” He shrugged with indifference. “The blood drinker of the tale is about a count from Transylvania trying to make his mark in England.”

“We were told the author was a sickly child until the age of seven,” Glamis said, “but after that he grew up without further health issues. He excelled as an athlete at Trinity College.”

“You said you knew him as a child?” Liam asked, curiosity lighting his eyes. “Is he one of us? Did you change him?”

Adryanna shook her head and smiled with warmth worthy of the sun’s rays. “We knew the boy.” Her hand swept over the page handwritten by Abraham with reverence. She met Bram’s gaze with a twinkle in her eye. “He adopted your name of sorts. His author name is: Bram Stoker.”

The End

What did you think of the tale, Creator of the Undead?

TRUE FACTS: Bram Stoker was bed-ridden until he started school at the age of seven, when he made a mysterious full recovery. The original manuscript of Dracula was found in a barn in northwestern Pennsylvania during the early 1980s. The manuscript included corrections and a handwritten title page with the name The UN-DEAD.

Want to know more about Bram and Adryanna? You’ll find their story in Twilight’s Eternal Embrace. Kindle
To know more about Liam and Glamis, you can read their story in Love’s Eternal Embrace E-book
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Here’s a sneak peek at my The Wild Rose Press Garden Tales:

Magic of the Loch Available at: The Wild Rose Press   Kindle   NOOK

Blurb:

Michaela Grant travels to Scotland for a holiday, knowing this vacation is her last. A medical condition threatens her life and any chance of a future—until she meets Alan MacLachlin, a man forced to exist between two worlds.

Alan is the legendary Loch Ness Monster. Once every fifty years he returns to human form in search of his soul mate, the one woman who can break his curse. He believes he has found forever with Michaela, but to claim it he must figure out how to save her life.

Michaela and Alan vow to take what time has to offer, but another threat looms. A sinister shape shifter with a vendetta against Alan is making Loch Ness his personal hunting ground. Now he’s threatening Michaela. Alan must discover who the shifter is and stop him before it’s too late.

Available at Wild Rose Press  * All Romance Ebooks  *  Kindle

It is forbidden for a moon shifter of The Mac Tíre clan to change a human and save them from death. Grayson Quinn, the alpha of the pack ignores the ancient rule when Sydney Carlisle, his fiancée is ravaged by one of his own kind.

Sydney believes she is a monster, a werewolf. She flees before Grayson can help her adjust, but Grayson must find her. Sydney’s body is still changing and the were-lust will drive her crazy if not sated. He has until the full moon to help her tame the wolf inside and convince her she’s his soul mate. If he fails, he loses her forever.

Sydney still craves Grayson’s touch, but can her heart forgive him for making her one of the Mac Tíre?

2012 Fall/ Paranormal Collection

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