The Blackheart Estate is more imposing than Blaise thought it would be. The old estate moans and groans in the night. The furniture coverings make the estate look old and unused when by all accounts that’s untrue.
Legend says old Master Baron Blackheart roams these halls with only one butler tending to his needs. Blaise first heard of the old Blackheart legend after he moved here three months ago. Local gossip and stories became too much for Blaise to ignore. He had to come see for himself.
A decision he now regrets. This place is creepy… The high ceilings, minimal to no lighting, and the smell of mothy decay makes his skin crawl with tiny shivers. Every step almost echoes in the emptiness of the house. An old Lilly painting hung cockeyed on the wall above in old fireplace in the next room. spider and cobwebs make his skin crawl.
For a place inhabited by a guy who never dies and a butler, enslaved by the Blackhearts generation after generation, this place looks pretty damn good. The decaying drapery notwithstanding.
“It’s been many years since someone was brave enough to enter here.”
Blaise jumps, his heart damn near breaking from his chest as he hides behind a wall.
“It’s of no use.” The voice taunts. “You’ve already been spotted.”
Blaise swallows and takes a few deep breaths. More than a few but that’s beside the point. Stepping away from the wall, Blaise looks up the tall regal staircase to see a slim man in a sports coat and jeans. Blaise frowns, he’s seen this man in town before.
The man walks down the stairs, his hand on the rail, towards Blaise. The beauty of this man almost knocks Blaise off his feet. He knows he’s not ugly by any means but next to this man he’s feeling a little inadequate.
“Lord Blackheart,” a man’s voice coming from his left has Blaise jumping, “are you in need of assistance, sir?” If Blaise ever saw this man outside of this house he would’ve definitely remembered. A long face, slim nose, and hard eyes don’t help this man’s holier than though attitude.
Lord Blackheart waves this man off, “Leave us.”
The man bows at the waist while still eying Blaine. If at all possible the man’s arrogant attitude as he walked off left a lingering energy in the room. “You must forgive, Brickenham. He’s very protective.”
Blaise blinks at the handsome man. “Uh-huh.”
The man smiles as he holds out a hand. “Despite breaking and entering welcome to The Blackheart Estate. I am Baron Blackheart the VII.”
Blaise shakes hands with Baron without thinking. “The VII?”
Baron laughs, it’s a sweet sound that doesn’t match the feel of the estate. “Did you think I the first? A vampire family are we?”
“Well since you put it that way…” Blaise’s face flushes with embarrassment. “What the- Aw!” Blaise’s lungs immediately seize with fear, the hand clasping his throat isn’t helping anything, either. Baron presses into him and a piece of decretive wood railing gouges his spine.
Baron leans in close, almost sniffing Blaise. “I’ve been very kind in regards to your breaking and entering. Now, honor me with a reason to not snap your neck.”
“You-d, You’d go to jail.” The need to breathe brings tears to Blaise’s eyes.
His captor laughs. This one is darker than before matching the aura of the house. “I’ve gotten away with a lot more. My reason, young Blaise.”
The grip on his neck tightens, if possible. Blaise was sure any tighter and his neck would snap. Good thing he was wrong. “Curious.” Blaise’s eyes blur with tears, his heart beats harder, faster, and his chest hurts. His grip on Baron’s writs weakens and little black things blur the edges of his vision.
“Don’t you know? Curiosity killed the cat.”
The words ‘I’m not a cat’ were on the tip of Blaise’s tongue but a scream rips free instead as Baron bites his neck. Sharp slices of pleasure so intense Blaise creams his pants renders him incapacitated.
“I also lied.” Baron whisper’s as a tongue traces the shell of Blaise’s ear. “You were right. I am the first and the only Baron Blackheart.” Air rushes back into Blaise when Baron lets go and he slides down the wall. “I think I will keep you.”
Blaise blinks up at Baron unsure of what the man means. Something wet slides down his neck to soak his shirt. Reaching and coming away, he frowns at the red wet stuff on his fingers. Another pair of shoes forces Blaise’s gaze up to see Baron and Brickenham talking.
A drained tired feeling drags Blaise into unconsciousness. His last memory is Baron picking him up and tossing him over a shoulder before everything goes black.