Dust

Lucian picked up the heavy wooden chair as if it weighed nothing. He put it in the centre of the room and wiped the dust off his hands and coat. The circular room was in darkness except for the flickering light from the torch David was holding. He stood at the doorway as Lucian had ordered. Not that he would have dared to take a single step further into the room anyway. What he saw as his eyes followed the column of light was horrific. Lucian had warned him that what he would see was the essence of nightmares.

The chair had an occupant. A carcass, as dry and shrivelled as old parchment. The body had lost all form as it collapsed into itself. It was the husk that remained when all blood, flesh, and bone had turned to dust. But it was not quite the empty vessel that it appeared. David could only assess what he saw as a human, a mortal, who lived in a world ruled by the laws of physics and where magic existed in storybooks.

The wrists and ankles of the relic were bound with chains of silver, turned black with age. The chains were embedded deep into the leathery skin, as they were meant to do. Around the waist and neck, thick bands of iron clamped the body to the chair. The bands were engraved with words of a language no longer spoken. There were no locks. The occupant of the chair was never meant to be released.

It was the sagging sacks of grey desiccated flesh on the chest of the chair’s occupant that identified it as a female. A necklace with a clan seal hung between the crumpled cleavage. Stringy red remnants of hair poked out of the blackened skull and fell over her face. Only patches of faded crimson cloth clung here and there; the rest of the garment she once wore had disintegrated and blown away.

Lucian leaned down and examined what was left of the face, the empty eye sockets, lipless mouth and jagged teeth. He ran a finger along the shoulder blade, then stared at the fingertip covered in black dust that was once flesh. He smiled and looked across the room. He heard David’s sharp intake of breath. Was the boy horrified? He should be, and it will only get worse. That was why he’d agreed to let him come along. Lucian poked his finger into the carcass’s chest, and it crumbled away, leaving a hole.

David turned and ran down the hallway. The room fell into darkness once the torch was gone, but Lucian could see clearly without it. He heard the dry wrenching. He checked his watch. Its brightly lit modern face was out of place in this immutable chamber. Retrieving the tote bag David had been carrying, he took out a small bowl and a vial of murky red liquid and went back to stand before the chair and its silent occupant.

David shuffled back, and once again, there was enough light in the room for him to see what came next. If it did not drive him away, Lucian knew that he would have to fulfil his part of their agreement. They’d been arguing, and he had agreed in the heat of the moment. It had been a mistake.

He turned so that David could watch. Lucian needed to see him as he truly was. To wipe away any romantic illusions he had.

Lucian bit into the fleshy base of his thumb, pulling away a chunk of skin and spitting it out. A viscous red, almost black substance slowly started to flow. It landed with a plop on the floor. It was thicker than human blood and pungent, like freshly turned soil and wet grass. It was earthy but not unpleasant. Again, David heaved, but this time he stood his ground and didn’t run. Lucian let the dripping blood of sorts trickle into the small bowl until it was half full. Then he poured in the contents of the vial and stirred the concoction with his finger.

Lucian looked at his watch.

“Ready?” David nodded and went to stand next to a lever on the other side of the doorway. He placed his hand on it, waiting for Lucian’s command.

The contents of the bowl were pressed to the carcass’s mouth. The mess dribbled down the body. Lucian stood back and watched as the dried flesh began to twitch, the veins squelched and popped as they filled. The bones creaked and snapped back into sockets and joints. Deep red hair sprouted from the dead skull. Black crumpled flesh smoothed out and turned lustrous. The horrible noises of a corpse reanimating filled the chamber. Until, sitting in the chair was a flesh-and-blood woman. By human standards, she was beautiful, somewhere around forty, with long red hair, shrewd brown eyes and a vicious smile.

“Hello, Mother.” Lucian threw the bowl across the floor and took a large white handkerchief from the pocket of his topcoat. He wrapped the handkerchief around his wounded hand and turned to the stupefied boy.

“David, this is my mother, Contessa Catia Braganza. Mother, this is David Farrell, human.” His tone was calm and polite.

The Contessa looked around the room, at the three other chairs up against the wall, and then at David.

“Release me this minute. If I am awake, then our punishment must be at an end. I need to feed.”

“David, unfortunately mother thinks you are a meal.”

Lucian moved to stand a little closer. “Actually, Mother, your sentence ended about a century ago, but I wasn’t ready to wake you up.”

“What? Why didn’t the Elders wake us up? How dare they keep us slumbering a moment longer than necessary?” The first hint of fear entered her eyes.

“Where are they? They should be here to greet us. Where are Father and my brothers?” The Contessa’s face by now had a pink glow, and her lips were full and lush.

There was a small, sly smile on Lucian’s face.

“Sorry to say they won’t be coming,” Lucian spoke in a ho-hum voice as if they were talking about a tea party where the guests hadn’t received their invitations.

“In fact, you and your stepfather have no family left. It took a long time, longer than I thought it would. But they are all gone. You are the last of the clan Braganza.” He pointed at the three empty chairs, where once his stepfather, brother and sister had sat.

“And soon you will be gone too.”

The Contessa tried to struggle, but she was held fast by the iron bands that had a binding spell. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for help.

“I told you I would never forgive you for your betrayal. When the Elders decreed 500 years of sleep, I was outraged at their hypocrisy. Putting an immortal to sleep for a few centuries isn’t a punishment, is it? It’s just a nap. Did you and the Elders truly think that would be enough to appease my anger? Fools, all of you.”

Lucian walked around the chair, enjoying his mother’s useless struggles. “For your information, when you tortured me, the naive boy that I was turned into a monster. There is not an ounce of pity or mercy in me now.” Lucian heard David’s harsh intake of breath. Good, let him be scared witless.

The Contessa’s struggle was futile, but she persisted. The silver chains burned her wrists and ankles. One last time, Lucian looked at his watch.

He walked to the doorway where David stood, his hand clutching the lever.

“This is your last chance. Leave now and go back to your ordinary life.” Lucian’s face was the cold mask that he had perfected over centuries. It kept humans away. Up until he met David, it had always worked.

“I’m staying.” David’s voice was a shaky whisper.

“Goodbye, Mother.” Lucian reached for David’s hand and pulled down the lever.

There was a loud noise, and a crack of light appeared in the ceiling. A single ray of sunlight shot across the room, and it grew bigger as a metal plate started to fall open.

“NO. NO. You can’t do this to me. I’m your mother.” Then the round metal door right above her opened completely, and bright sunlight poured in.

The screaming was shrill, blood-curdling. David covered his nose and mouth with his hands, trying to stop the stench. His eyes were unable to move away from the horror. The Contessa burned from the inside out. Her blood ran from her in thick streams that congealed around the chair. When David’s screams joined in, Lucian grabbed him and pressed his face against his chest.

“Shhhsh. It will be over soon.” He held David firmly against him, stroking his back and trying to shield him from the worst of it. But Lucian watched on with a smile on his face. He wanted to hear, see, and smell her suffering. If he could have made her suffer more, he would have. A mother’s betrayal of her child was unimaginable; torturing him until he went mad was unforgivable.

When the room went silent, all that was left was smoke and ashes. Lucian’s eyes moved to the three chairs in the room.

“Now they are all gone.”

Lucian