Mr. Kirkland's Slow Demise - Chapter I

When was it that Arthur had started feeling sick?  Four months ago, was it?  The night before he woke up feeling rather tired and drained.  It was a warm summer's night in July and another day at the workshop, just like any other, he had made a chest of drawers that had been ordered a few days prior, it was beautiful and well made after all he was very skilled at this craft.  After he went out with some of the other blokes in the workshop, Alfred, Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio.  He hadn't got plastered though as he had work the next day.  He knew some of the others might do, but he was more responsible.  Arthur had drank enough to bring a warmth and a rosy tint to his usually pale cheeks, his step had a slight waver from the ale he'd had but he wasn't stumbling.  Though he did manage to bump into a woman, it was too hazy a memory to recall her features, Arthur knew she was stunning the way the gaslight shone on her lovely long hair, he could remember stopping and apologising with an unsteady bow, asking if she was alright.  He knew she hand an accent but he had forgot what sort, the woman had asked to come with him, she had told him that she was new to London and that she didn't know where her lodgings were.  

If he were in a better state of mind he might have helped her find her residence, but he wasn't and just allowed her to go home with him instead.  After all the streets at midnight were no place for a lady all manner of scoundrel might be lurking.  Not that Arthur thought himself a knight in shining armour but usually when women were in male company it tended to discourage attackers.  He'd learnt that from his farther who'd been an officer in the newly created Police force.  Hopefully no one would notice he was slightly inebriated or they might just take the chance, but also the woman herself might be scared if she caught on to his light sway or the faint smell of alcohol on his breath.  But then the woman had asked to accompany him home, it was a strange request but Arthur didn't think about it.

She walked side of him and they both kept their hands to themselves, they had made some sort of small talk but the details had been forgotten, who she was, where she came from, what she was doing out so late, all of it was gone from his mind.  Soon they arrived at Mr. Kirkland's home in Covent Garden, it was a pleasant residence and certainly conforming to the rest of London, made out of perfectly cut stone.  Arthur fumbled with the door key for a bit before he managed to actually unlock the heavy oak door, he stepped aside and motioned for the woman to enter.  She didn't though, it was strange but she looked at him expectantly like he'd not followed proper protocol, or perhaps she didn't know what his motions meant?  "You can go inside love."  He said to get across what he meant and waved his free arm again, holding the door open for her.  "Thank you Mr. Kirkland"  The woman smiled and stepped inside, Arthur followed and shut the door behind him.  His guest seemed rather taken by the interior of his house, it was filled with all kinds of antiques, some were family heirlooms, others gifts and some he'd bought.  Even then some items came from the British Empire, mainly the Eastern Empire, small trinkets or scrolls of Asian artwork.  From the contents of his house the woman could see this man had a strong interest in culture.  Typical Englishman really.

Arthur was tired now and wanted to sleep but he had to make sure his guest had somewhere to stay first.  He led the woman upstairs to the second bedroom.  "You can sleep here for the night Miss"  He showed her the room and smiled.  "I will probably be gone before you wake up, so thank you so much for letting me stay here"  The woman walked into the room while Mr. Kirkland stood at the doorway. "Will you be able to find your way home?"  He then let out a yawn but at least remembered his manners enough to cover his mouth as he did.  "I'm sure I will manage, it's just everything looks the same in the dark."  The woman smiled at him "You look tired Mr. Kirkland" she observed as he lent on the door frame and yawned, as a guest she couldn't tell him to go to bed.  "Yes I am, I should be off to bed myself too, good night love"  He left her in the room with a wave and she shut the door as he left.

Now his guest was given a temporary bed Arthur could go to his own.  He washed his face and brushed his teeth, then he got changed into his night clothes.  Soon enough he was ready to go to bed and once he had tucked himself under the fluffy white bedsheets, the alcohol induced sleepiness had whisked him away into a deep slumber.  At least he wasn't due at work until ten in the morning so he could still fit in a good night's sleep.

The woman had been watching from the guest bedroom through a crack between the door and it's frame, Mr. Kirkland didn't know he was being observed at all, but she had been watching him.  She waited ten minutes before emerging from her temporary room and silently approached his bed chambers.  When she opened the door it gave a soft creak, but not enough to disturb the sleeping man.  Her sharp senses could hear his gentle snoring, the woman ghosted over to his bedside.  Mr. Kirkland was laying on his right, a corner of his blankets bunched up him his left hand his arm around it like he was loosely cuddling a small person, while the rest of the sheets fanned out covering him from the middle of his torso and below.  He looked rather angelic, surrounded by light white fabric, both of his bedding and his baggy long night shirt, his blonde hair and light unblemished skin, his face completely calm and relaxed.  While his left arm coiled around his bunched up sheets his right lay outstretched his hand just hanging off the bed.  

The woman could smell something coming from him, it was a sweet smell, she could smell it when he ran into her her sense of smell was just overwhelmed by the scent of an exotic delicacy.  She looked at his arm, the loose cuff of his night shirt, and nibbled her lip, if she exercised some self restraint maybe she could return to sample him again.  The woman didn't know if he were a light sleeper or not but she praised the ale for putting him in such a calm state, at least tonight he wouldn't wake up.  She reached out a pale hand and touched it to his warm one, she could feel a steady pulse through his upturned palm, ever so slowly she traced her hands up his arm, folding back the loose and airy fabric of his night shirt.  Mr. Kirkland continued to sleep peacefully, he didn't move at all which was very convenient as his sleeve was rolled up to just past his elbow, the pasty white skin was soft to touch and the woman was surprised at the firm lean muscle.  When she first saw him she thought he was rather skinny but it seemed he hid a nice physique.  Examining his arm she traced her cool finger tips over the slightly raised veins, his pulse felt much stronger there and she watched his face as she did this, trying to test out how responsive he was.  Mr. Kirkland just continued to snore softly and didn't move at all.  She wanted to make sure he wouldn't wake up and certainly not be alarmed, just like in hunting fear taints the meat as it does the blood.

The woman then parted her lips and placed them over the largest of his veins, still watching him from the corner of her eye, he didn't respond.  Then she grazed her pointed teeth over it, still Mr. Kirkland didn't move.  The warm vein was then pricked by a tooth a few small drops oozed out.  The taste from even those small pearls of blood was divine, and the woman bit into his arm fully puncturing the pulsing vein with her upper canines and a smaller one with her lower ones.  She quietly drank still careful not to wake him, but it was hard not to suck and slurp, the blood from his veins was that good, it made he wonder what would fully oxygenated blood taste like?  If just the liquid from his veins was this good then from his arteries must be heavenly.  It was so sweet and intoxicating that she almost lost track of how much she had drank but soon she peeled herself away.  The bite mark still wept and she held his arm to her lips once again but this time she kissed the wounds, his dark red blood painting her lips as the torn skin began to fuse together.  The woman could see it start to discolour, becoming slightly blue and yellow already, it seemed he would have quite a bruise tomorrow.  Small beads of red still remained on his skin and she gently sucked on them cleaning his new skin of the rich liquid, she licked her lips removing what was left on them.  If all Englishmen were this delectable then she might find herself gaining weight, she wondered if it was just this man in particular or if it were his diet, perhaps all the tea and scones these people ate gave them their sweet taste.  She broke herself from her musings as she looked at the man again.  Mr. Kirkland still hadn't moved at all and the guest praised her luck, before beginning to roll his sleeve back down, letting the light cloth drape over his hand and wrist like it was prior to her disturbing it.  

Standing up, she walked over to his bedroom window, carefully she unlatched it and pushed it open.  The cool summer night's breeze wafted into the room, looking back she could see Mr. Kirkland's blonde hair and crisp nightshirt ruffle in the soft draught.  The woman smiled and climbed up on to the window sill now in a crouch and her skirts bunched up, and she lept out into the night.  Now in free fall she spread her arms and they became soft black leathery wings, her body shrank and her ears grew.  A bat swooped over the front garden and then soared over the houses and empty market of Covent Garden, searching for her roost.