The Blood Of The Slayer's Daughter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2 (v.1) - Don't Be Scared

Submitted: September 26, 2011

Reads: 105

Comments: 1

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Submitted: September 26, 2011



I took the dagger away from Daniel's throat and got up from my straddle over him. He stood, then picked up his hat and started wiping off the muck from it. I examined my own state and saw that my white blouse had a few tiny drops of dirt here and there but nothing to concerning, I also observed that it had risen high enough to expose my chest a little more than polite for public. I quickly and efficiently fixed my blouse by pulling it down at the hem that just stuck out from under my leather bodice.

Still holding my silver dagger in my hand, I leant to one side with my hands on my hips. I looked Daniel in the eyes sternly, for a minute he held the stare but became frightened by my look and looked to the ground. His mouth twitched uncomfortably. I supposed Daniel was like my Father's apprentice. He was twenty-two, three years older than me. Daniel was very handsome, he had a strong jaw and even wearing his long trench coat you could tell he had supple, defined muscle. He was quite a treat on the eyes, especially when he was chopping wood for the winter and the work became so tiring he became too warm and took off his shirt. But thinking about how good he looked didn't sway how angry I was with him.

"I'm not going to appologise because what you just did was very stupid, especially with what's going on right now." The fury in my voice scared even myself.

Daniel nodded at the ground, "I know, but I was just so worried." His voice was so emotional and honest I was quite taken back. "When I heard, I-I just came as qickly as I could. I'm so sorry, for both your Father and for being so stupid and unthinking in my actions."

"Your appology is accept, but your idiotic actions not forgotten." I gestured toward the door. "Just knock next time,"

Daniel followed me inside to the warm living room, Grandfather hadn't moved an inch; still in his disant thoughts. "Good day, Daniel." Grandfather didn't avert his stare from the fire place.

Fire fascinated me, obsorbed my concentration as if it was fuel to it. I wondered why it interested me so much; I added, 'Why do I love fire so much, as you and Grandfather do; why does it capture my attention, even more than the way an intricatily plotted novel would?' to my list of questions to ask my Father when I found him.

I didn't want to ask Grandfather, I asked Father questions and he gave me the answers, regaurdless of how relevent they were to the predicament at that present time. Whereas, my Grandfather, lived very much in the now, only doing what was necessary at the time it was necessary. I wondered if that came with being of his age, trying to get every problem out of the way as soon as possible, so nothing got in the way of just living, or so that nothing was left half finished when he was gone.

"Not particularly," Daniel spoke respectfully. I heard him shut the door behind him securely. My Grandfather nodded slowly. Daniel took the chair my Mother had sat in before she had retreated to her bedroom.

I could feel Daniel's piercing blue eyes on my face, trying to read my expression. "You're going to go and try find your Father, aren't you." His sigh was long, he hadn't said if as a question, but an evaluation of the look presented on my face.

The entrancement of the flames loosened when I noticed his sad tone. "What else am I supposed to do, there's nothing else I have the desire to do at present."

Daniel narrowed his eyes in thought and sat his leathered booted foot on his opposite knee. Aruptively he stood and paced along the mahogony bookshelves, a habit he had picked up from my Father.

"Your Father was prepared in case this unfortunate event were to occur." Grandfather went to stand infront of the fireplace, he traced his index and middle finger along the dents in the irregularly shaped gray stones. He stopped his hand at one next to the picture I'd drawn as an infant, it was of myself, my Father, Mother, my Grandfather and Grandmother. The smiles were ear to ear and the eyes wide and without eyebrows hovering over them, my Father had claimed it a masterpiece and had had it framed. To my slight suprise my Grandfather pulled the stone from the wall and returned to his chair with it siting on his lap.

Grandfather turned the stone over to reveal that it was hollow. Inside there was nestled two envolpes and a piece of dark blue silk that seemed to glow somehow, I thought it was maybe just the light but part of ms believed that their was something inside the silk that held secrets and magic.

"This is for you, Daniel." Carefully my Grandfather handed Daniel one of the yellowed envolpes, who took it just as carefully. He seemed to ask Grandfather with his eyes wether or not he should open it now. Grandfather nodded briefly.

Daniel broke the wax ceal and pulled out a piece of fine parchment, just as Grandfather handed me an envolpe. Written above the ceal, in my Father's scratchy handwritting was my name, Roxana. At the end of where the final a's tail flick was, a stain of the blue ink lay in an obscure shape. I broke it's ceal and pulled out the letter.

Father's scratchy writing filled the one side of the paper. I read it slowly taking in every sentence, word-for-word.


If you are reading this letter, then your assumptions are correct. I'm in the clutches of Dracula. There is nothing I could say in this letter that would convince you not to come after me, I know how head strong you are. So I decided if I can't change your mind, I could help you by telling you and reminding you of a few things.

Don't trust anyone but your Mother, your Grandfather and Daniel.

Anyone you meet could be one of the vile creatures that are vampires.

Keep your weapons close and remember what I taught you. Constant vigilance.

Trust you instincts.

Let Daniel come with you, he will be a good ally to you.

If by the time you find me I am worse than dead, end me.

I love you; you are my flesh and blood and soul.

Don't worry you'll find me soon, I know you will.

I don't need to tell you not to be scared because you've never been scared entire life, not of anything.

Your Father.

A warm tear threatened to slide down my cheek but I held it back. I folded the letter and placed it back into its envelope then stroked my Father's handwriting on the front.

I thought about something my Father had written in that last sentence before signing off. It wasn't true. I was scared of something, I was scared of losing him.

© Copyright 2020 ashalyn. All rights reserved.


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