The Faux Vampiri

It was a miserable evening in the Almonde castle. It's tall, handsome turrets silhouetted black against the moody grey sky. The air tingled with a distinct electricity and Count Emmett Almonde pulled his cloak tighter around him as he stepped out into the crisp autumn air. The thick black clouds caused the trees shadows to loom ominously over him; their crooked branches beckoning him into their dark canopies.

Emmett was not usually spooked by such petty matters, It was usually him that spooked others. His appearance was certainly startling. Jet black hair was slicked across his head although it was never quite flat and that made him look a lot younger than his thirty-five years. His broad shoulders were complemented by his black velvet cloak- lined with the finest red Italian silk. He had pale skin and almost placid green eyes which looked at you with interest and only added to his unduly handsome charm. It was his whole persona together, however, that made the villagers of his small Italian town scared of him. He reminded them of a mythical being- Uno Vampiri - An Italian version of the Transylvanian vampire only twice as strong and unlikely to think twice about taking the life of a lowly peasant girl. Emmett disregarded these rumours as silly and disrespectful - after all, he was their Count.

He carried walking along the long gravel drive lined with olive trees. It didn't take long for him to ride down to the village but today he had chosen to walk. Rivero lay at the bottom of the valley below the grand and imposing Almonde mansion. The mansion had been built on a vantage point as it cast shadows on all of the five villages that surrounded it. Emmett liked power. He though of something that you had to be born with, not given. His brother, Chester (who was also a Count over the far side of the country) shared his views and it might have been for this reason that he disapproved of Emmett’s engagement to the local peasant girl, Esme Ellison. Due to her love for Emmett she was to be the next countess of Rivero and would be graced with the honour of living in the Almonde castle.

Esme was also on the mind of Emmett that evening as he walked down towards the village.  Maybe it was for this reason, or the worrying shapes that seemed to loom at him out from the dark, that he was completely oblivious to anything else other than his own imagination. Maybe it was for this reason that he did not quicken or speed up his pace as the cool evening breeze brushed over his shoulders. Maybe it was for this reason that the butlers loud and forlorn cries fell on deaf ears. Footsteps and a steady regular heartbeat was all that Emmett heard as his mind conjured up all the different things that Esme had done to make him smile.

He walked down the mountain slope in a trance, thinking only about the girl that waited for him to arrive.

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"Ah, Lemuel, my dear fellow, how marvellous to see you again!" Greeted Chester Almonde.

The butler nodded his sign of approval.

"Me and Emmeline are here for the wedding. I presume our rooms are ready?"

"Oh," exclaimed the butler. "I am sorry sir but I did not know of your coming here tonight."

"Dear, dear," remarked Chester. "I sent a messenger to you on horseback only a week ago. It seems that the letter explaining the forthcoming visit has not been received."

"Oh sweet Jesus," murmured Lemuel the butler. "I shall awaken some of the maids for they are asleep. They will arrange your rooms. I am so sorry that we did not know of your coming." His lip quivered.

Emmeline reached out to him with an air of feminine grace. She placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry about us," she assured. "We can just sit in the waiting room and you can just come and get us when out rooms have been prepared" He nodded and murmured to himself as he hurried of to the maids quarters.