November 1, 1809 - Boston - 4:00 am

Joanna Pritchard tucked her prayer book into her small, blue silk, draw-string hand bag, then pulled her cloak around her and drew the hood over her flame-red hair before stepping out into the pre-dawn chill of November first. Joanna had knelt and prayed in the small chapel, since before sundown on All-Hallow's Eve, under the watchful eyes of the nuns who were cloistered there.

At 18 years of age, Joanna was already used to being viewed with suspicion because of her red hair, and had quickly learned to be overtly pious.  She had arrived at the chapel before sundown and was now leaving near sunrise.  This was a precaution she took every Hallowe'en so that strange occurrences on the most wicked night of the year couldn't be blamed on her. Her friends at the mill teased her for being so "holy", but Joanna knew those same "friends" would be the first to point fingers in her direction if something strange occurred.

Joanna clutched her silk bag in her right hand and drew her cloak more tightly around her.  Her fancy slippers made soft scuffing noises on the stones as she began to make her way home.  Her mind was caught up on Ephraim, the quiet yet handsome son of the mill's owner.  Just the day before, Ephraim had whispered in her ear of marriage, and thoughts of chubby babies dandled on her knee filled her head.

In this happy state, Joanna turned the corner to walk down the street to her boarding house.  Suddenly, she felt a pair of strong hands grabbing her, covering her mouth, and holding her arms tightly against her sides.  A strange voice whispered savagely in her ear, “don't scream, and I will let you live.”  Joanna went limp from fear and was whisked into the cemetery behind the church by the dark stranger.  Later that day, Joanna wouldn't arrive at the mill and Ephraim would go in search of her.  All he would find of her would be her silk handbag, her prayer book, and one of her slippers laying in the gutter of the cobblestone street.

Joanna found herself being forced into an underground crypt, the doors shutting tightly behind her and her captor.  She felt herself lifted roughly into his arms and then being slowly carried down the stone steps into the blackness of the crypt.  “Please... please... why are you doing this?” Joanna mewed pitifully, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Please, let me go.”  The man chuckled, then Joanna cried out as she felt his lips and tongue on her cheek. “Don't worry, little one,” he whispered, and he trailed the tip of his tongue across her lips. “I'll let you go when I've done what I need to...”

Joanna's cloak was ripped from her body, and she felt herself laid on her back on cold, hard stone. A torch flared to life and Joanna blinked, the sudden light hurting her eyes for a moment.  She looked up and found herself staring into the coldly cruel eyes of her captor.  He was handsome, well-dressed, refined... He didn't seem the type to capture and abuse young women, and this fact completely threw Joanna off guard. The man knelt beside Joanna, his gaze roving lustfully over her form then resting on the side of her neck.  He reached out and trailed a finger up and down her neck while speaking lowly, his voice laden with a strange passion, “Such a lovely, neck... so beautiful, sweet, and young...”

The stranger brushed his finger across her lips, and his eyes took on an expression of near tenderness.  He moved his gaze and stared deeply into the bright, green pools of Joanna's eyes.  Joanna gasped as she felt a strange, leaden sensation move through her body, utterly paralyzing her.  She could only watch, her mind filled with horror, as the man leaned forward and began to tenderly kiss her neck, his lips brushing ever so lightly up and down her pale skin.  "I've been discovered," he said, as if he felt he owed her an explanation, "before I could create a childe and achieve Golconda."

His hands began to rove greedily over her body, raising the skirt of her dress, parting her petticoats, gaining access to her most secret places as he began to kiss and lick her neck with more passion. He whispered in her ear, "I only hope you will survive, my beautiful childe."  He locked his lips to her neck and began to suck and, at the same instant she felt herself plundered, he drove his teeth cruelly into her neck.

~~~~~~~~

Joanna woke slowly.  She looked around in confusion, unsure of where she was.  Then, she remembered – she was in the crypt.  She froze, afraid that her captor was still near, but soon realized he had fled.  Joanna sat up slowly.  She could see a dim, golden light streaming down the stairs from the slightly open door of the crypt.  Her body protesting with pain, Joanna stood up, arranged her clothing as best she could, then slowly walked up the stone steps to the doorway.  “Ephraim,” she whispered, “I must get to Ephraim.  He will help me.”

Joanna slipped her hand through the gap in the door to push it open, and then screamed in pain and pulled her hand back.  She looked down in shock.  Her skin looked as if someone had laid a hot iron across it.  She tried again with her other hand, and again screamed as if she had plunged her hand into a roaring furnace.  The pain threw her off balance and she felt herself tumbling down the stone steps, back into the crypt where she fell into grateful unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~

Joanna woke again, her senses telling her that night had fallen.  It was pitch-black in the crypt, but strangely she could see enough to make her way up the steps to the door.  She paused only for a brief moment, then pushed the door open and stepped out into the night.  Mentally numb from her experience, Joanna slowly made her way through the cobblestone streets towards Ephraim's house. She turned down an alley and passed by a “lady of the evening” who had stopped to adjust her stocking.  A strange, overpowering hunger suddenly welled up in Joanna.  

The next thing she knew, Joanna was kneeling next to the woman's dead body, blood dripping from her lips as she smiled with satisfaction.  Joanna's eyes opened in fear and she scrambled backwards, horrifying understanding descending on her.  “No... no... no...” Joanna shook her head disbelievingly and frantically wiped the blood from her mouth onto her dress.  “Must... must get to Ephraim...”

After what seemed an eternity, Joanna found herself standing in Ephraim's bed chamber, staring sadly at his sleeping form.  Sensing someone watching him, Ephraim suddenly woke.  He cried out joyfully as his eyes fell on Joanna, and he rushed to hold her to him.  Joanna fell into his arms, crying without tears, and began to tell him what had happened to her.

The look on Ephraim's face quickly went from joy, to fear, to absolute disgust as he realized what the woman he loved was telling him.  He shook his head and fell backwards, groping for the drawer next to his bed.  Joanna reached out to him, begging, pleading.  Ephraim sneered as he drew forth a crucifix and held it in front of him.  Joanna screamed wildly, holding her hands up in front of her face, and then fled into the night.  The next day Ephraim was found dead, having hanged himself from the rafters of his father's mill.

Page last updated May-18-2010 12:00 AM by Aynia Birdsong