Post by madascheese on Jul 7, 2007 13:47:53 GMT
Here it is, chapter 9 of Dillan's story! Hope you enjoy 
x
*******************
Dr Murdoch strolled leisurely into his office, his dressing gown swaying gently around him as he walked with slow grace to his desk. He seated himself onto the velvet pad of his mahogany chair and remained still for a moment, marooned in the complexity of his own thoughts. His strong jaw rested on his time-worn hands as he opened the large, leather bound journal in front of him and turned the yellowing parchment until he reached a clear page. Lifting his head slightly, he picked up his beloved antique fountain pen, tentatively dipped the nib in the dark pool of ink and began to write.
“Dr Murdoch,” said a deep, even voice from the darkened corner behind him.
Murdoch did not look towards him; resting his blackened quill and leaving the few words he had written to dry, he looked straight ahead with slight annoyance and impatience of the intrusion.
“Lord Vakaal. I trust this is not a social visit?” he asked, sarcastic yet genial.
“Do you know anything of the girl, Dillan?” Vakaal enquired, leavening each syllable carefully.
Murdoch sighed. “I took her home personally; everything went according to plan – she has no memory of the incident. As I told you two weeks ago, if I recall. Is something wrong?”
“We have reason to suspect that the cure did not work as planned.” he replied.
Murdoch felt the pit of his stomach drop as his blood ran cold. “How could that possibly be, my Lord?” he retorted, feeling distinctly worried about Dillan's fate.
Vakaal walked slowly and steadily across the room, ignoring Murdoch's piercing gaze as it focused intently on him. “Some victims, after they have been bitten, cannot ever recover – even with all the healing methods we know. Sometimes the essence of a vampire has been absorbed so deeply that it cannot be drawn out,” he explained. He paused for a moment, fixing his ice-blue gaze intently on Murdoch's. “We call it a 'slow turning'. We have reason to believe that she may have already completed the transformation.”
“How will you know if she is a vampire then?” Dr Murdoch asked quickly.
“We are always watching over Mansbridge town as well as the academy; very recently, there have been some vampiric killings – two of the victims were her mother and stepfather.” he replied heavily. “We have come to a reasonable decision that it is the girl who, in her confusion, has killed these people.”
Murdoch looked away and fixed his eyes on the parchment before him, tracing the cracked, intermittent skin-lines ever present on each page. He cleared his throat nervously, unsure of what to say or do next. “Where can we find her?” he said quietly, still absorbed in the reality of his failure to save her from her fate. “She could be anywhere by now.”
“We must pay attention to the movements of Karl, her sire. When a vampire sires a mortal, they create the strongest bond that you can possibly imagine,” Vakaal explained. “ A childe and their maker can detest one another – even to the point that they try to kill one another – but the bond never disappears. Young vampires, particularly those rare few who experience a delayed awakening, awake confused, scared and often angry. The sire will feel these intense sensations ingrained on their mind, unable to be ignored until they find their childe and resolve the matter. Most sires cannot ignore this calling.”
“So you think that Karl will have gone to find her?” Murdoch replied, feeling a distinct wave of concern sweep his being.
“As far as I am concerned, I have no doubt,” Vakaal said confidently. “Karl will find her and bring her back here, I'm sure of it. She could jeopardise the entire experiment, so we must evaluate her before we even consider continuing.” He handed Murdoch a small piece of parchment as he walked briskly out of his view. “Alert me at once if she should arrive.”
“What do you want me to - “ he spun around quickly, seeing nothing but thin air behind him. “I wish he would stop doing that,” he muttered to himself. Feeling irritated as well as very concerned, he took a small iron key from his pocket and slotted it into the keyhole of his bottom desk drawer. It unlocked with a slight click that was easily audible in the eerie silence of the room. Murdoch slid the drawer open smoothly and, removing the papers and files within it, lifted up the base panel to reveal a loaded tranquilliser gun. Sighing deeply, he lifted it carefully out of it's hiding place and placed it on the desk as he placed the various files and folders in another drawer, replacing the panel and closing both drawers. Holding the cold, black gun in his strong hands, he turned to face the window and surveyed the dark land before him; a little sooner than he expected, he saw two pale figures approaching the building, one taller than the other. With a determined expression and steeled nerves he turned away from the window and stood leaning on the edge of his desk facing the door, his gun pointing relentlessly at the entrance.
* * *
Karl felt his nerves shred gradually as he walked through the cast iron gates with his childe; he found himself twitching at the slightest whisper of wind through the trees and was constantly monitoring his surroundings carefully. Dillan, on the other hand, simply stared straight ahead at the building, almost accepting the fact that this night could be her last. It was a curious feeling, seeing the building she had known so well as a mortal through a vampire's eyes, almost perplexing as she tried to decipher the world around her; she had changed so much that very little seemed relevant to her now, from the clear sky above her to the very ground that she walked on. How could she ever be a part of the living world again? Either way, given the chance, Karl and the others would hopefully be able to reconnect her with the environment; not that she really knew what this 'experiment' entailed, much less about these 'Elders' who seemed to hold her life in the balance, but there was something about Karl that was easy to trust – distinctive, and yet completely undefinable.
They stopped for a moment as they reached the large, exquisitely carved oak door, which sat heavily in it's frame. With a deep, steadying breath, Karl reached out a softly trembling hand and pushed the door open. They crossed the threshold together, slowly at first, examining the grand hall covered in a swath of shadows.
“Stay close to me,” he whispered, now walking down a hallway where the many eyes of portraits watched, unblinking, his every move. Without pausing to think, he walked straight through the door to Murdoch's office, his childe at his heels. He gasped as he saw the image of his teacher, standing resolutely in a regal red robe, staring straight back at him; Murdoch readied the gun, piercing the silence with a loud clacking noise. As soon as Dillan stumbled in behind him, the gun fired with a soft click.
Dillan felt the whole room melt and bubble around her as her bones weakened and her muscles lost all sense of movement. She sank slowly to the ground, deflated and confused, watching the colours of the room blend into one another in a sickly whirl until her weary eyes closed and she descended into unconsciousness. Murdoch slid another dart into the gun with expert speed and precision.
Karl's hand twitched as he surveyed Dillan's body, looking almost as it had the fateful night he had bitten her. “Don't move until I tell you to Karl,” Murdoch teacher said quickly with a steely stare. “I'll presume she's turned?”
Karl looked back at his teacher morosely, his eyes filled with fear and regret. “Yeah – she's been calling to me all week. I – I wanted to make sure she was okay. What are you going to do with her?” he asked weakly.
“That's for the Elders to decide, not me,” he replied sternly, the gun still rigid in his capable hands. “Don't do anything stupid Karl – I know that, tonight, you did what you had to, but if you want to have any chance of saving her then you really need to co-operate. Understand?”
“Yeah,” Karl replied distantly, his gaze fixed on his helpless childe. He turned his icy stare to Murdoch's face. “I just wanna save her.”
“Okay,” Murdoch sighed, tentatively easing the aim of the gun as he eyed his student carefully until, finally, it rested on the smooth, burgundy wood of his desk. “First of all, we need to get her in the cage downstairs.”
“No problem,” Karl said absently, the tone of his voice flattened and hollow as if he were speaking into stale air.
Murdoch approached Dillan's lifeless body and, with a wary glance at his companion, lifted her by the ankles and Karl hoisted her up at the shoulders. They carefully manoeuvred her down the dusty stone steps leading to the cellar until they reached the crude iron cage and, setting her down onto the cold metal floor, closed the door with a loud clang to which Dillan was completely oblivious. Murdoch took a ring of keys out of his pocket and, singling out a rusting, misshapen key, locked the door with a loud click.
“That should hold her for the time being,” the teacher said quietly, with a deep sadness tingeing his words. “Karl, you will need to wait down here with her until Lord Vakaal is ready to speak with you. I'll be down to collect you shortly.” He hastily put the keys back into his pocket and, with a sympathetic smile at his companion, left the room.
Karl walked slowly over to his ebony coffin and grazed his hand distractedly over the dark, lacquered wood, devoid of reflection and momentarily devoid of thoughts. He looked into the wood, entranced with the endless emptiness within, captivated by the monotony of his own existence. The only thing different now was Dillan, the one glimmer of change was the pale, slight figure that lay in the cage behind him. When he looked at her, his thoughts came rushing back, the world around him took on a new shape and form and things seemed to make sense again. Perhaps he was as much in need of her help as she was in need of his.
Dillan's neck twitched violently as her eyes sprung open, bright red, angry and confused. She bolted upright in the cage and clasped her hands around the bars; she slowly rose to her feet, her head still slightly dizzy from the after-effects of the tranquilliser and looked around at her new surroundings. Her gaze rested on her sire standing completely still, staring into dead space.
“Karl!” She cried anxiously. He spun round as her shrill voice cracked the silence of the stone room. “What did you do?”
He didn't come any closer. “We're both stuck down here until Dr Murdoch has consulted the Elders. They don't know you, or trust you so you've got to stay in there and stay quiet,” he said assertively.
“Well, I haven't really got much of a choice now, have I?” she said, infuriated by her helpless situation. “So, I guess that our plan B has to be abandoned now? There's not much scope for running away now. Got another plan, genius?”
“I'll convince them, I'll do whatever I can,” he murmured, shaking his head with uncertainty.
“At least give me some blood,” she said, anguish tainting her voice as her throat burned with thirst. “Please, I'm starved.”
“Everything's locked up, there's nothing I can do,” he sighed. “You'll have to go without – you've already had more than you need anyway.”
“How do you know I've already fed?” she asked cautiously.
“You become less pale when you've fed from a human,” he replied quickly. “Look, just sit tight and try not to think about it, or it'll make you feel worse. We all have to fight our cravings at some point.”
“You didn't do such a good job of that when you killed me!” she shouted angrily.
“I made a mistake!” he cried in response, his sadness seeping through his strained voice and bouncing from wall to wall. “I was stupid, inexperienced and inhumane.” He walked briskly up to the cage until he was less than a foot away from the wrought iron bars keeping his childe at bay. “I'm trying to save you from that,” he growled. “But I won't be able to if you don't control yourself!”
“Trust me, this is me being perfectly controlled,” she replied sarcastically. “I am not about to be cooped up in some stupid cage preventing me from getting what I want. If you don't let me out of here, so help me I will break out!” She struck her fists against the cage, growling with rabid fury. She became further infuriated as Karl simply turned his back on her; she rattled the cage door violently in response, filling the dusty air with the sounds of metal striking metal over and over again with furious fervour. She was determined to get her own way, she never lay down for anyone as a mortal, so why should she start now? She had the strength to break out of here if she wanted to, all it would take was a little intelligence.
She ceased her clanging of the cage door and quietened down, acting as if she was sulking like a melodramatic teenager. She sighed loudly and, unbeknownst to Karl, began inspecting her prison. She ran her hands against the cold, uneven surface of the bars and tried to find a weakness to exploit. She came to the door and surveyed it carefully, until her superior vision spotted a small chink at the side of the lock. With a satisfied smile, she stood back a little and, mustering all of her strength, kicked the door with great force. The door shuddered, but did not move. Still undeterred and prepared for persistence, she kicked it again and again, rapidly and with unshakeable force until the door finally swung open with a loud clang.
Karl spun around in shock and, ready to protect Murdoch, ran towards her; just at that moment, Dr Murdoch, still wielding the tranquilliser gun in his steady hands, descended the stairs.
“Dillan,” he said calmly and reassuringly, in stark contrast to his militant stance. “One of the Elders, Lord Vakaal, will speak with you both now.”
Her eyes faded back to her natural vivid green colour as her fangs receded in quiet fear. “Dr Murdoch, who are the Elders?” she replied.
“They are the council of ancient vampires who govern those vampires of the Convocation – which consists of those vampires who want to co-exist peacefully with the human race. They are the ones who devised this experiment and have ultimate control over its subjects,” he explained. “You will need to convince them that you are worthy of being included in this.”
“I want to be a part of it,” she said quietly. “Please, I don't want to die.”
Murdoch returned her gaze with one of deep sadness. “I'm sorry I couldn't save you first time Dillan. I want you to be a part of this experiment, but I don't have control over who is accepted from who is not. You must show Lord Vakaal that you are willing to learn and develop, as well as demonstrate determination to succeed. Can you do that?”
“I'm not a good loser,” she replied, half-smiling.
“Come on, we mustn't keep them waiting,” Murdoch said softly. “You both walk ahead and I'll follow you.”
He stood to one side as the young vampires walked past him, surveying each of them with both suspicion and sympathy as, with an intense heaviness filling his heart, he waited for them to confront their uncertain future. He wished he could have saved her from this life; he felt a lump in his throat as he thought about the day that he took her home. Had he noticed anything unusual then? Certainly not – she seemed happy to be away from the Academy for the beautiful summer that lay before her. Now she had an eternity of nights to face, all because of his poor surveillance of Bridget. He should have known that Karl would be so easily corrupted by blood, glory and promises, he was too young to watch over a vampire of Bridget's calibre. Either way, what was done was done. He had to face the consequences of his actions and try to mould Dillan into the civilised vampire he knew she could be. He decided, resolutely, to support his former day student – after all of his mistakes, it was the least he could do. Determined to keep Dillan under his diligent charge, he followed his students up the dark stone steps to his warm, carpeted office and prepared to fight for her place at the Academy.
**************************
Sooooo chapter 10 will be the final chapter in this li'l fic!! I'm writing it as we speak...I can't believe how long I've been writing this for! It seems so good to come to an end and yet such a shame *lolz*
Thanx for reading anyways
x
x*******************
Dr Murdoch strolled leisurely into his office, his dressing gown swaying gently around him as he walked with slow grace to his desk. He seated himself onto the velvet pad of his mahogany chair and remained still for a moment, marooned in the complexity of his own thoughts. His strong jaw rested on his time-worn hands as he opened the large, leather bound journal in front of him and turned the yellowing parchment until he reached a clear page. Lifting his head slightly, he picked up his beloved antique fountain pen, tentatively dipped the nib in the dark pool of ink and began to write.
“Dr Murdoch,” said a deep, even voice from the darkened corner behind him.
Murdoch did not look towards him; resting his blackened quill and leaving the few words he had written to dry, he looked straight ahead with slight annoyance and impatience of the intrusion.
“Lord Vakaal. I trust this is not a social visit?” he asked, sarcastic yet genial.
“Do you know anything of the girl, Dillan?” Vakaal enquired, leavening each syllable carefully.
Murdoch sighed. “I took her home personally; everything went according to plan – she has no memory of the incident. As I told you two weeks ago, if I recall. Is something wrong?”
“We have reason to suspect that the cure did not work as planned.” he replied.
Murdoch felt the pit of his stomach drop as his blood ran cold. “How could that possibly be, my Lord?” he retorted, feeling distinctly worried about Dillan's fate.
Vakaal walked slowly and steadily across the room, ignoring Murdoch's piercing gaze as it focused intently on him. “Some victims, after they have been bitten, cannot ever recover – even with all the healing methods we know. Sometimes the essence of a vampire has been absorbed so deeply that it cannot be drawn out,” he explained. He paused for a moment, fixing his ice-blue gaze intently on Murdoch's. “We call it a 'slow turning'. We have reason to believe that she may have already completed the transformation.”
“How will you know if she is a vampire then?” Dr Murdoch asked quickly.
“We are always watching over Mansbridge town as well as the academy; very recently, there have been some vampiric killings – two of the victims were her mother and stepfather.” he replied heavily. “We have come to a reasonable decision that it is the girl who, in her confusion, has killed these people.”
Murdoch looked away and fixed his eyes on the parchment before him, tracing the cracked, intermittent skin-lines ever present on each page. He cleared his throat nervously, unsure of what to say or do next. “Where can we find her?” he said quietly, still absorbed in the reality of his failure to save her from her fate. “She could be anywhere by now.”
“We must pay attention to the movements of Karl, her sire. When a vampire sires a mortal, they create the strongest bond that you can possibly imagine,” Vakaal explained. “ A childe and their maker can detest one another – even to the point that they try to kill one another – but the bond never disappears. Young vampires, particularly those rare few who experience a delayed awakening, awake confused, scared and often angry. The sire will feel these intense sensations ingrained on their mind, unable to be ignored until they find their childe and resolve the matter. Most sires cannot ignore this calling.”
“So you think that Karl will have gone to find her?” Murdoch replied, feeling a distinct wave of concern sweep his being.
“As far as I am concerned, I have no doubt,” Vakaal said confidently. “Karl will find her and bring her back here, I'm sure of it. She could jeopardise the entire experiment, so we must evaluate her before we even consider continuing.” He handed Murdoch a small piece of parchment as he walked briskly out of his view. “Alert me at once if she should arrive.”
“What do you want me to - “ he spun around quickly, seeing nothing but thin air behind him. “I wish he would stop doing that,” he muttered to himself. Feeling irritated as well as very concerned, he took a small iron key from his pocket and slotted it into the keyhole of his bottom desk drawer. It unlocked with a slight click that was easily audible in the eerie silence of the room. Murdoch slid the drawer open smoothly and, removing the papers and files within it, lifted up the base panel to reveal a loaded tranquilliser gun. Sighing deeply, he lifted it carefully out of it's hiding place and placed it on the desk as he placed the various files and folders in another drawer, replacing the panel and closing both drawers. Holding the cold, black gun in his strong hands, he turned to face the window and surveyed the dark land before him; a little sooner than he expected, he saw two pale figures approaching the building, one taller than the other. With a determined expression and steeled nerves he turned away from the window and stood leaning on the edge of his desk facing the door, his gun pointing relentlessly at the entrance.
* * *
Karl felt his nerves shred gradually as he walked through the cast iron gates with his childe; he found himself twitching at the slightest whisper of wind through the trees and was constantly monitoring his surroundings carefully. Dillan, on the other hand, simply stared straight ahead at the building, almost accepting the fact that this night could be her last. It was a curious feeling, seeing the building she had known so well as a mortal through a vampire's eyes, almost perplexing as she tried to decipher the world around her; she had changed so much that very little seemed relevant to her now, from the clear sky above her to the very ground that she walked on. How could she ever be a part of the living world again? Either way, given the chance, Karl and the others would hopefully be able to reconnect her with the environment; not that she really knew what this 'experiment' entailed, much less about these 'Elders' who seemed to hold her life in the balance, but there was something about Karl that was easy to trust – distinctive, and yet completely undefinable.
They stopped for a moment as they reached the large, exquisitely carved oak door, which sat heavily in it's frame. With a deep, steadying breath, Karl reached out a softly trembling hand and pushed the door open. They crossed the threshold together, slowly at first, examining the grand hall covered in a swath of shadows.
“Stay close to me,” he whispered, now walking down a hallway where the many eyes of portraits watched, unblinking, his every move. Without pausing to think, he walked straight through the door to Murdoch's office, his childe at his heels. He gasped as he saw the image of his teacher, standing resolutely in a regal red robe, staring straight back at him; Murdoch readied the gun, piercing the silence with a loud clacking noise. As soon as Dillan stumbled in behind him, the gun fired with a soft click.
Dillan felt the whole room melt and bubble around her as her bones weakened and her muscles lost all sense of movement. She sank slowly to the ground, deflated and confused, watching the colours of the room blend into one another in a sickly whirl until her weary eyes closed and she descended into unconsciousness. Murdoch slid another dart into the gun with expert speed and precision.
Karl's hand twitched as he surveyed Dillan's body, looking almost as it had the fateful night he had bitten her. “Don't move until I tell you to Karl,” Murdoch teacher said quickly with a steely stare. “I'll presume she's turned?”
Karl looked back at his teacher morosely, his eyes filled with fear and regret. “Yeah – she's been calling to me all week. I – I wanted to make sure she was okay. What are you going to do with her?” he asked weakly.
“That's for the Elders to decide, not me,” he replied sternly, the gun still rigid in his capable hands. “Don't do anything stupid Karl – I know that, tonight, you did what you had to, but if you want to have any chance of saving her then you really need to co-operate. Understand?”
“Yeah,” Karl replied distantly, his gaze fixed on his helpless childe. He turned his icy stare to Murdoch's face. “I just wanna save her.”
“Okay,” Murdoch sighed, tentatively easing the aim of the gun as he eyed his student carefully until, finally, it rested on the smooth, burgundy wood of his desk. “First of all, we need to get her in the cage downstairs.”
“No problem,” Karl said absently, the tone of his voice flattened and hollow as if he were speaking into stale air.
Murdoch approached Dillan's lifeless body and, with a wary glance at his companion, lifted her by the ankles and Karl hoisted her up at the shoulders. They carefully manoeuvred her down the dusty stone steps leading to the cellar until they reached the crude iron cage and, setting her down onto the cold metal floor, closed the door with a loud clang to which Dillan was completely oblivious. Murdoch took a ring of keys out of his pocket and, singling out a rusting, misshapen key, locked the door with a loud click.
“That should hold her for the time being,” the teacher said quietly, with a deep sadness tingeing his words. “Karl, you will need to wait down here with her until Lord Vakaal is ready to speak with you. I'll be down to collect you shortly.” He hastily put the keys back into his pocket and, with a sympathetic smile at his companion, left the room.
Karl walked slowly over to his ebony coffin and grazed his hand distractedly over the dark, lacquered wood, devoid of reflection and momentarily devoid of thoughts. He looked into the wood, entranced with the endless emptiness within, captivated by the monotony of his own existence. The only thing different now was Dillan, the one glimmer of change was the pale, slight figure that lay in the cage behind him. When he looked at her, his thoughts came rushing back, the world around him took on a new shape and form and things seemed to make sense again. Perhaps he was as much in need of her help as she was in need of his.
Dillan's neck twitched violently as her eyes sprung open, bright red, angry and confused. She bolted upright in the cage and clasped her hands around the bars; she slowly rose to her feet, her head still slightly dizzy from the after-effects of the tranquilliser and looked around at her new surroundings. Her gaze rested on her sire standing completely still, staring into dead space.
“Karl!” She cried anxiously. He spun round as her shrill voice cracked the silence of the stone room. “What did you do?”
He didn't come any closer. “We're both stuck down here until Dr Murdoch has consulted the Elders. They don't know you, or trust you so you've got to stay in there and stay quiet,” he said assertively.
“Well, I haven't really got much of a choice now, have I?” she said, infuriated by her helpless situation. “So, I guess that our plan B has to be abandoned now? There's not much scope for running away now. Got another plan, genius?”
“I'll convince them, I'll do whatever I can,” he murmured, shaking his head with uncertainty.
“At least give me some blood,” she said, anguish tainting her voice as her throat burned with thirst. “Please, I'm starved.”
“Everything's locked up, there's nothing I can do,” he sighed. “You'll have to go without – you've already had more than you need anyway.”
“How do you know I've already fed?” she asked cautiously.
“You become less pale when you've fed from a human,” he replied quickly. “Look, just sit tight and try not to think about it, or it'll make you feel worse. We all have to fight our cravings at some point.”
“You didn't do such a good job of that when you killed me!” she shouted angrily.
“I made a mistake!” he cried in response, his sadness seeping through his strained voice and bouncing from wall to wall. “I was stupid, inexperienced and inhumane.” He walked briskly up to the cage until he was less than a foot away from the wrought iron bars keeping his childe at bay. “I'm trying to save you from that,” he growled. “But I won't be able to if you don't control yourself!”
“Trust me, this is me being perfectly controlled,” she replied sarcastically. “I am not about to be cooped up in some stupid cage preventing me from getting what I want. If you don't let me out of here, so help me I will break out!” She struck her fists against the cage, growling with rabid fury. She became further infuriated as Karl simply turned his back on her; she rattled the cage door violently in response, filling the dusty air with the sounds of metal striking metal over and over again with furious fervour. She was determined to get her own way, she never lay down for anyone as a mortal, so why should she start now? She had the strength to break out of here if she wanted to, all it would take was a little intelligence.
She ceased her clanging of the cage door and quietened down, acting as if she was sulking like a melodramatic teenager. She sighed loudly and, unbeknownst to Karl, began inspecting her prison. She ran her hands against the cold, uneven surface of the bars and tried to find a weakness to exploit. She came to the door and surveyed it carefully, until her superior vision spotted a small chink at the side of the lock. With a satisfied smile, she stood back a little and, mustering all of her strength, kicked the door with great force. The door shuddered, but did not move. Still undeterred and prepared for persistence, she kicked it again and again, rapidly and with unshakeable force until the door finally swung open with a loud clang.
Karl spun around in shock and, ready to protect Murdoch, ran towards her; just at that moment, Dr Murdoch, still wielding the tranquilliser gun in his steady hands, descended the stairs.
“Dillan,” he said calmly and reassuringly, in stark contrast to his militant stance. “One of the Elders, Lord Vakaal, will speak with you both now.”
Her eyes faded back to her natural vivid green colour as her fangs receded in quiet fear. “Dr Murdoch, who are the Elders?” she replied.
“They are the council of ancient vampires who govern those vampires of the Convocation – which consists of those vampires who want to co-exist peacefully with the human race. They are the ones who devised this experiment and have ultimate control over its subjects,” he explained. “You will need to convince them that you are worthy of being included in this.”
“I want to be a part of it,” she said quietly. “Please, I don't want to die.”
Murdoch returned her gaze with one of deep sadness. “I'm sorry I couldn't save you first time Dillan. I want you to be a part of this experiment, but I don't have control over who is accepted from who is not. You must show Lord Vakaal that you are willing to learn and develop, as well as demonstrate determination to succeed. Can you do that?”
“I'm not a good loser,” she replied, half-smiling.
“Come on, we mustn't keep them waiting,” Murdoch said softly. “You both walk ahead and I'll follow you.”
He stood to one side as the young vampires walked past him, surveying each of them with both suspicion and sympathy as, with an intense heaviness filling his heart, he waited for them to confront their uncertain future. He wished he could have saved her from this life; he felt a lump in his throat as he thought about the day that he took her home. Had he noticed anything unusual then? Certainly not – she seemed happy to be away from the Academy for the beautiful summer that lay before her. Now she had an eternity of nights to face, all because of his poor surveillance of Bridget. He should have known that Karl would be so easily corrupted by blood, glory and promises, he was too young to watch over a vampire of Bridget's calibre. Either way, what was done was done. He had to face the consequences of his actions and try to mould Dillan into the civilised vampire he knew she could be. He decided, resolutely, to support his former day student – after all of his mistakes, it was the least he could do. Determined to keep Dillan under his diligent charge, he followed his students up the dark stone steps to his warm, carpeted office and prepared to fight for her place at the Academy.
**************************
Sooooo chapter 10 will be the final chapter in this li'l fic!! I'm writing it as we speak...I can't believe how long I've been writing this for! It seems so good to come to an end and yet such a shame *lolz*
Thanx for reading anyways
x
Ohhhh....can't wait for the last chapter, Mad!! As ever, you've managed to effortlessly (well, it looks effortless to the casual observer *wynx*) capture Dillan's fear, frustration and anger at first being turned and now being caged. It seems that cage brings out the worst in a vampire, eh? Hehe!
It's gonna be so strange thinking about writing something other than TST, I've become quite attached to it *lolz*
