At the Devil's Table - Part I

Somewhere in the early 1900's, a story of loyalty, duty and the supernatural takes place. Part I of V.

UN
~

The dinner guests sat down at the long, antique, monster of a table that I could only deduce was built somewhere in the late 1800's. I tossed my hair and turned up my nose as I sat- discontent. It was obviously built by someone who had no taste whatsoever. And it looked as though they had decorated the entire dining room as well. There were large portraits that cluttered the ghastly wallpapered walls; gold trim frames that held imposing faces with eyes that followed your every movement. The fireplace was ancient and gothic, two large stone gargoyles with menacing snarling faces held up the mantelpiece that showcased a collection of stuffed birds of prey, a rather corpse-like weasel and three grand candle stands. The deep colours of the room made it feel thick and suffocating; deep, dark purples and dark browns enclosed the space, draped across the décor and reached out to touch me. Nausea debilitated my body- I could not even think to eat.

My knee brushed against something sharp and I peered down to see that the table was held up by wood-carved gargoyles that snarled into the vacant space of air before them. I had snagged my skirt on a fang and snatched it away angrily, clipping off a thread, trying to contain my distaste.

Von Grimm seemed happy, as I knew he would be; sitting at the head of his banquet and watching as the waiters paced the room and served, and poured, and bowed. He smirked to himself as the guests pretended the whole scenario wasn't the faintest bit alarming to them all. But he could probably smell the fear boiling up in their blood; 8 husbands and 8 wives. At least he would smell no fear from me. I looked at him and briefly caught his eye, hoping he would feel my disgust leaping across the table and slapping him in the face.

He didn’t deserve the respect- out of fear or otherwise- of the men and women who sat at the table. So many self impressed sycophants, I thought about how Von Grimm must know this, after all he wasn’t stupid. He was intelligent, astute as a philosopher, and could read every person in a vast ballroom from the moment he entered. He was also very rich, and without a family or more importantly- a heir to his incalculable estate, everyone knew that making an ally in Von Grimm would mean well funded parties, campaigns and more social benefits than anyone could possibly hope for. Woe betides the man who would be foolish enough to make an enemy of dear Von Grimm. I imagined with the amount of connections and money he had, Von Grimm could choose if he may, to extinguish jobs, assets and lives at the drop of his feathered hat.

I sat next to a fat and repugnant Sergeant whose face was already red with the amount of liquor he had downed in the drawing room alone. On the other side of me was an empty seat, and somehow that disturbed me more than the pig and his wife beside me.

"I see you dine with us alone, dear Gina," Von Grimm's voice sneered from across the grotesque wealth of food that oozed with gravy and twitched with spice and color. "What a sad little tale that someone as beautiful of you should be left abandoned by sworn company-"

"Forgive me," I retorted, managing a small, curl of the side of my lips. "We made no contract forged in blood- I am here by my own account, to dine and to keep company with you and all your guests. I can very well hold my own cutlery and pass my own condiments," I breathed, feeling I had won when I heard some scattered smirks from the other dinner guests- maybe not everyone here were utter imbeciles. "Alike with Farris," I said, "He shall come on his own accord,"

"Ay!" Von Grimm snickered, leaning back casually in his chair, "How painfully this viper strikes," He said melodically, his musical laughter following. Some laughter from his guests erupted. Whose side are you on, Goddamn! "I'm not so much surprised, seeing as how your reputation has been spun so well and so... eloquently," He said, taking a glass of wine from the waiter though his eyes were fixed on mine.

"My reputation?" I nearly choked. Of course, practically everyone I knew outside a very small and trusted circle were gossips and blasphemers- why not then, why shouldn't there be stories to scorn my name. Wasn’t I the perfect target for such exchanges? A daughter of an old minister and a madwoman, sister to a brother who through his well published conquests has probably forgotten her very existence.
"You'll be much shocked to learn this, dear Gina," Von Grimm grinned, "But the world seems to know you as the most exquisite collection of creatures..."

I narrowed my eyes at him, unnerved and hoping not to show it. I felt outnumbered at the table- all eyes were on me now, or at least it felt that way.

"A viper; a venomous snake... a thrifty jackal, a protective and most intoxicating she-wolf..." At this, more laughter filled the air and I sucked in a deep breath to stop from throwing the platter of lamb's knuckles at his face. "And of course a most delicate, ensnaring, dangerously delicious... fox..." The words dripped form his lips like candle wax sliding down the stick of a lit candle. He stroked the headless stole around his neck, his fingers smoothing down the soft, downy, gray fur. For a moment I was mesmerized by the movement his hands made through the delicate pelt.

He raised a leg to rest a foot on the both repulsive and decadent table- the other followed slowly after. The guests did not react- such an action at the table was unbecoming, but this was Von Grimm's house after all. His gaze never left me, and locked in his eye-line I suddenly felt shaken. "I have passed no judgment, dear Gina, no objection- and nay, no disbelief that you may come on your own accord," He licked his lips then, and I nearly felt his tongue lap at my skin- a touch so unwanted and repulsive, I flinched slightly. Our gazes parted ways as he turned his eyes to the table, his index fingertip sliding along the curve of his fork. "But I would much more adore it if you came on my accord," His eyes raised to mine again and a terribly mischievous grin curled upon his pink lips. The guests laughed, the men- and women too, trying hard to muffle it with hands and napkins pressed to their lips. Repulsive oafs!

I stood up at the table suddenly, my chair falling back behind me with a crash. "You are no gentleman, you heartless, reviling pig!" I accused before storming away angrily. But it was no use, the laughter continued and I knew my insults had no bearing. Von Grimm wanted to be many things, but 'a gentleman' was not on his list.

I was so angry I didn't see Farris until I collided with him in the hallway. "Georgina!" He said, alarmed, "Dear God, are you alright?"

I starred up at him, enraged for more than I could bear, "Leave me alone, you cankerous swine!" I snatched my arms from his grasp. “Peace! Peace from this torrent of discontent! Should for a moment I, and the world itself, be granted peace from the- disturbing company of men, perhaps the heavens themselves would cry out a sigh of most well deserved relief! Peace! My heart and home for a moment without men who seem to find it necessary to either be debaucheries or catastrophically late!”

He grabbed my wrists suddenly and our eyes connected. I gasped a little, and allowed myself a soothing breath. I was calmed by the pale blue orbs that observed me apologetically. I saw that he was soaking wet from the rain I could hear beating down on the windows in the long and lavish hallway. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, those innocent eyes watching me and hoping I would offer him forgiveness; my poor wounded puppy. His dark hair was drenched and his fringe hung over his forehead and partially over his eyes, droplets of water dripping down his light brown skin. He always had a way of looking effortlessly war-torn, and yet bug-eyed. He had a rip in the shoulder of his dark brown suede jacket and the shirt underneath was wrinkled and un-tucked. Books spilled out of his leather satchel.

A butler passed us, breaking the silence as he made tracks across the Persian runner beneath us. He threw a glance at what Farris' shoes were doing to the carpet. We looked down in unison and saw that poor Farris had walked in with the most mud-covered shoes I had ever seen. He was never good at paying attention.

I took my wrists from his hands forcefully, smoothing back my hair and my clothes as I looked at his soaking wet jacket. The one I had given him on Christmas last year. Ruined.

"Where were you, Farris?" I demanded.

"I'm sorry," He said, "You know how work gets..."

"I know how you get about your work," I said, the words a verbal slap in the face. I brushed past him and attempted to walk out but he caught up with me.

"I'm sorry, Georgina, I am, really," He pleaded, "What happened, can we not go in for a meal?"

Finally my hurt was catching up with me, "That Von Grimm is a creature beyond the realms of all that is Godly," I snarled, "He deliberately insulted me before an entire audience- deliberately he made me out to be some sort of stupid..." I broke off into an angry groan. "If you think I am going in there to bask in the glory of that repulsive wretch and the newest achievement he has been so lucky to purchase, then you are deeply mistaken," I said, "I have had enough of that fool and all his so-called friends; shallow, depraved men and their fat-sucked wives! I have had enough!"

I stormed out, into the torrential rain outside that drenched me immediately. I felt hapless and disheartened, now all I had was my anger, my resulting pride and a very ruined dinner frock. This day was turning out to be as marvelous as I had envisioned.

"Gina, Gina, please- wait!" Farris ran after me, crashing through puddles. I heard his shoes squelching through the wet ground as he caught up with me. “Look, wait,” He ran up to face me, stopping me in my tracks. The rain beat down hard on us.

I groaned and tried to move away but he pulled me back to face him, his hands on my shoulders. “Farris, stop it!” I shrugged off his grasp. “Can’t you leave me to stew in my own misery?”

He cupped my face and I gave in. I looked up at him and saw him smile with a soft little scoff. “My sweet, you are much too pretty to be stewing in your own misery… alone, that is,” He said, and I felt my heart melt, “At least let me come with you,” We turned to walk off together, his smile to infectious that I was now showing the small hint of one. He slid his arm around me, “You know I am pretty good at this stewing in misery business- perhaps I can give you some pointers,”

“I doubt I’ll need any- after that ordeal I endured at the hands of that-”

“Cankerous swine?” He put in, and we shared a momentary glance of hesitation before bursting into laughter.

“I’m sorry, love,” I said and rested my head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for being late,” He purred into my ear and kissed the side of my head, “I won’t be ever again, promise,”

“Oh, Farris,” I whined, “At least make a promise you can actually keep…”

*

“Darling, darling, my sad valentine,” I heard him breathe softly, “So sweetly sleeping on your lonesome bed,” He whispered, and I opened my eyes to see him crawling up towards me. My mattress creaked with the added weight, and I smirked when I saw him approach. He looked beautiful, his hair a mess, as always, and his eyes transfixed on me; they gazed, following the curves of my body and tracing each and every inch of me. He had stripped himself of his shirt and his skin was radiating the most intoxicating glow as the sun streamed through my windows and fell upon him. Even the sun could not bear to resist kissing every inch of his tan skin.

As he sneaked up towards me, he slid a hand over the belt on my dress, and over to the other side of me onto the bed. He placed his palm flat on the bed and used it to prop himself up, bringing his face up to meet mine. I closed my eyes as he kissed me on the forehead. I smiled softly.

“Though you tossed and turned all night long, lost in the things you endured whilst waking,” He purred, peppering my face with soft, slow kisses. “But though caged by duty and condition, your youthful heart still beats a yearning,” I felt his finger tenderly tracing a heart-shape on my chest, just above the neckline of my frock. “And I hear it,” He whispered and leant forward to replace his finger with his lips. I breathed in sharply, rapturously, deliciously, my hand reached to hold the back of his head, my fingers raking through his jet black hair. Tearing his lips away, but still hovering inches away from my skin, he said so softly, even I was straining to hear- “And I shall grant you peace,” He leaned up then and kissed me on the lips.

The force and passion of the collision of our lips pulled us up to a sitting position on the bed. I held onto him for balance and as we broke apart I heaved for breath. I opened my eyes and saw the sun streaming in between us, our forms silhouetted against the window. He placed his hands on my shoulders and cradled them, closing his eyes as our foreheads touched.

I slung an arm over his shoulder and smiled, “That was beautiful, Farris,” I said, “I believe that one was the best one yet,” We kissed again. I heard him sigh when we broke apart. I looked up at him and saw he was staring down at the row of hooks that held the front of my bodice together. I pulled my arm off his shoulder slowly, and resting my hand hesitantly against his chest, I said softly, “Do I frustrate you, Farris?”

He looked up at me, a little shocked, and then his expression melted into a scoff and a grin as he shot a glance away, “Immeasurably,” He said. My favourite part about Farris was that he was always honest. But not in the biting way that Von Grimm seemed to be, but in a gallant, nurturing, gentle way. I grinded my teeth at the thought of Von Grimm- how did he managed to suddenly infiltrate my thoughts. Scum! I turned away from Farris, looking to the fireplace in my room and the landscape painting that hung above it. Above the colourful painted French townhouses and shop-lots with stripped awnings, Farris had written: Les cris de ciel pour la ville ne la voit pas! in black. It stained the baby blue sky like undeserved wounds.

“Do you wish to bed me?”

He smirked, shaking his head as he laughed softly, “What man does not,” He said and made me roll my eyes.

I leant forward and rested my hands on his shoulders, close to his neck. “You know I cannot, Farris,” I said and he smiled softly back.

“At least I know it’s not because you don’t want to,” He said. I looked up and saw for the first time, a devious glint in his eyes. I scoffed and shoved him playfully with a giggle.

Suddenly, a scream erupted form downstairs and I turned to the shut door of my room.

“Mama!” I called out as I picked myself up off the bed.

*

“Mama!” I saw her crumpled in a heap by the cupboard, a broken saucer on the floor and her form bent over a hand that she held to herself. I went to her immediately, “Mother, I told you, you cannot do these things yourself. You know that. We have help here don’t we?” A maid entered just then and I snapped my gaze up towards her, “Have you lost your senses completely? Or is your carelessness simply a point of choice?”

“I did not know she was up, madam,” The maid pleaded, “I’m sorry,”

“Do not waste my time!” I scolded, “Get a damp cloth and for God’s sake, do something about this damned mess!” When she scurried away hurriedly I returned my attention to my mother who started to rock back and forth slowly. I quickly recovered from my temper, “I’m sorry mama, I did not mean to shout,” I took her hand gently and saw the small cut was bleeding. I stroked her grey, dishevelled hair that was tied into a haphazard bun and hushed her softly. “Dear mama, it will all be okay,”

The maid returned with the cloth and nursed the wound gently. I felt immediately guilty for the tantrum I had thrown- she didn’t deserve it. My mother was a handful and I knew it, these outbursts were to be expected. “I broke the china,” My mother murmured.

“It’s okay, mama,” I cooed.

“Do you see my hand,” She said, “The lifeblood,” she said softly.

I ignored her words and hushed her softly, stroking the top of her head as I sat next to her. She wore a black, shapeless dress that was patched up at the hem due to earlier incidents. It was a far cry from the frocks she used to wear when she was my age. I had seen pictures and hear stories of her in her younger years. Back then, she was always in something flamboyant and revealing. She was so pretty too, her bright blonde hair and bright red lips. She used to be a dancer too, but now that was all over.

Farris walked in, his shirt buttoned up wrongly under his now somewhat dry jacket. He clutched the strap of his satchel. “Georgina,” He said his voice unsteady.

I looked up and went to him.

“I’ll take my leave now,” He said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I nodded in reply and smiled when he added; “I won’t be late, I promise,”

“Who is there, Gina?” Mother called out.

“Farris, mama, you’ve met him, remember?”

“Oh, yes,” She said.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said and Farris kissed me on the cheek before taking off. Immediately I yearned for him again. I stepped out to the door and saw him disappear in the crowded street just outside our quiet house. People of all shapes and sizes sailed by, ships passing in the night time; sharing a space and never touching. A motor car honked as it drove past. Soho in the day light. Les cris de ciel pour la ville ne la voit pas.

*

Around the corner of a bustling tavern in Soho, Farris stumbled upon a man who was waiting for him. He looked disgruntled, and Farris took in a deep breath, as if awaiting the full force of a scolding he knew was coming. “What did you get from Von Grimm?” The man demanded immediately, removing a smoking cigar from his chapped lips. His wrinkled brow crumpled further when he saw what Farris was wearing. “God forsaken- what happened to you,”

“It was raining,” Farris said, brushing off the look he was getting from the old man. Farris noticed he looked very toad like, like a compressed bloated figure stuffed into a tweed suit and a red vest. “I didn’t get to Von Grimm’s,” Farris added quickly, realizing he was staring at the man’s horrible looking white alligator skin shoes for far too long.

“What?” The old man spat. “Why not!”

“Something came up, there were too many people at the party anyway,” Farris said quickly, perhaps hoping that if he spoke fast enough, the old man would summate the blur of words into something that pleased him.

He couldn’t be more wrong. He may have been old, but Arthur Demetrious was still as astute as he had ever been. He grabbed Farris’ elbow, yanking his face down into the cloud of smoke that was emitted from his cigar. Farris choked, turning his face away from the yellowing teeth he saw. “You’re wasting my time, Brimshaw, you’d better get your act together or I’ll find myself someone to replace you!” He finally let Farris go, shoving him backwards.  “And don’t you think for a second that I won’t be making sure he takes care of you first!”

Farris had nothing more to say in his defence; he only nodded a greeting at a policeman who walked past. “Look,” he said in a hushed voice, “I’m sorry, but Von Grimm’s not going anywhere for awhile-”

“Just get it done!” Arthur said angrily, “Out of my sight,”

Farris held back the words swarming to get out and trample Arthur to the death. He took a couple of steps backwards, then nodded and turned to leave.

“Farris,” Arthur called out and Farris turned to see the old man watching him sternly. “You’d better not let that girl of yours get in the way,” He said, “You know as well as I do that I don’t like distractions… and I’m very, very good at removing them if need be,” With that, he threw the rest of his cigar down onto the cobblestones beneath him and stamped it out with his foot. It crunched under him, like a bone snapping in two. He retreated into the tavern and Farris watched him, angry and yet afraid enough to hold his tongue.

Head hung in defeat, and his face fixed in a frown from the scorn he felt, Farris made his way out of the alleyway next to the tavern. He brushed past a vagabond on his way into the street. The madman murmured words Farris did not understand, and as he turned he saw that the man of 40 or so years of age was carrying a sign that read: Prenez garde de l'abîme de approche.

Farris smirked and shook his head as he left, his hand tugging on the strap of his satchel.

 

Author's Note

I don't really know where this story is going, I was just inspired to write in this style that fit the characters into a time slot near the early 1900's. Perhaps 1915 or 1920. I'm not sure how many parts this story will take to end, but I envision 3 for now and 5 at maximum. This will definitely not be a book. I hope to hear an comments you might have for me! Good, bad, ugly- one liners! Come one, come all :D

Reviews

[Alexander]

The beginning didn't hook me, so I skipped down a few paragraphs and was immediately grabbed. The writing is beautiful! I only found one mistake when Georgina asks "Do I frustrate you, Farris?" You put frustrated instead. This was wonderful! Can't wait to read the rest :)
Z