Rodney Edwin

The thunder rumbled, deep and low. The rain slashed across the rivers and the hills. Forked lightning sliced the sky, sending small creatures scurrying away. The wide plains were hidden in darkness, and all that could be seen were several distant lights, small and orange.

As the rain fell harder, the dim lights drew closer. Through the black, the sound of a horse’s hooves, followed by it’s heavy breathing became louder. The creaking wagon in tow was covered in mud, it’s paint all peeled. The door to the wagon opened quickly, and a quick, beady-eyed woman stuck her head out.

In the light of a lantern, she grimaced at the rain. “Awful storm” she exclaimed. The driver, a lanky fellow, peered round, his mouth clamped on a pipe. “Indeed, m’am, but we ain’t got that far to go”. The woman huffed and slammed the door of the wagon closed.

Inside, it’s dull, velvet seats were aged and the glass of the windows had cracks in the corners. The short woman pulled her shawl across her and reached forward for a leather book on the other seat. Shivering, she opened it and put on a small set of spectacles. The rain pounded the wagon on the outside, lightning piercing the gloom. The wagon driver called for the horses to move faster.

Scrawled lines of text covered the book’s pages. Each line crossed out, with a date next to it. Illuminated by the lantern, the woman’s eyes darted across the page, until they came to rest on a name. Rodney Edwin. This single, uncrossed name sat at the very bottom of the page. Placing her finger on the name, she looked outward at the horizon.

The wagon rolled on for a time, the storm calming down just at the first morning light broke. The horizon drew closer, and on it’s edge stood the shadow of a house. The wagon rounded a bend and the house got bigger. It was a great old manor, with a great path laid before it.

The horse drew the wagon all that way up to the front gate, which had icy twisted through it. After it stopped, the driver jumped down, his boots sinking into the gravel. He walked around and opened the door for the miniature woman.

She stepped down and sniffed the air, her small eyes turning a deep shade of black. “The air is sweet tonight. There are many home.” The driver eyed her warily “Shall I bring your wares m’am” The woman waved her hand, she was distracted by the manor, it’s lights making her ravenous.

The driver brought down a large suitcase from the top of the wagon. It was made of red leather and had worn clasps. The small lady began walking towards the house, as if drawn by an invisible scent. The driver followed, heaving the suitcase up.

The woman and the driver arrived at the door of the great manor. The driver put down the case heavily and rang the bell. It chimed, echoing out into the neighbouring fields. The door swung open, it’s polished handle held by a tall, thin butler with a pointed nose.

“May I help you”? Said the butler, eyeing the pair sharply. “Kind sir”, drawled the short woman, “We are looking for Rodney Edwin”. “Mr Edwin is in his study, I’m afraid” said the servant” “This is quite a late time to be visitin-“ before the butler had finished the woman launched herself at him. Her eyes burned black and her mouth became a bed of fangs.

Without a word, she ended the butler. She stepped over him into the front hall. The candles flickered in her presence, pictures fell from the walls. She screamed at the top of her lungs for Rodney Edwin, the shriek tearing the air.

At the top of the stairs, the wooden double doors opened. Through it, came the creature’s wagon driver. He had disappeared when she was killing the butler. Yet something was different, he was not hunched or old. He stood tall, a long leather coat around him, a large hat on his head.

“Creature of the night!” he called. “Look upon me. Your so called Rodney Edwin. I am hunter of the blackened birds of the devil. Tonight, you meet your end”! Drawing a long sword, he charged over the bannister and landed in front of the she-beast.

Rodney plunged his sword deep into the vampire’s chest. Her dark eyes began to fade, and she stumbled back. Rodney grabbed the red suitcase and threw it open. Inside, a thousand desperate voices cried out. The souls of the vampire’s prey. Spinning around, Rodney kicked the vampire and she fell in.

He slammed it shut. The voices were gone. He walked away, sheathing his sword. It was done. The vampire that had killed so many was dead. He walked outside, breathing deeply. As he closed his eyes, the black eyes of the butler appeared behind him.