In the front room of the grand old Victorian home, Lazarus and Archie were nowhere to be seen. They had disappeared, leaving no trace of their whereabouts.
Wembley and Bulldog, Maria and James were immobile, an odd fog shrouding their brains. They may have stood like that for five minutes, or five hours. There was no concept of time for people in their state.
Shaking his head slightly to rid himself of his mental cobwebs, James asked with thickened speech, “What just happened?”
“I don’t know,” Maria said, feeling equally fuzzy. “Are you okay?”
“I feel funny,” James responded, “and I don’t know why.”
“I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere before,” Phil said. In a few seconds, the fog lifted somewhat, and they were able to move, each of them taking tentative steps.
“Where’s Archie?” Maria asked. “Did Lazarus take him?”
“I’m not sure what’s going on,” Phil said. “I feel like I’m under the influence of something, I just don’t know what.”
“It’s a mental shroud,” Bulldog said. “Vampires use it to cloud people’s minds, confuse them, or influence them to do something they wouldn’t normally do. I’m surprised you don’t know about that stuff Wembley.”
Rubbing his forehead, Phil responded, “I’ve heard of the mental shroud, but I’ve never been lucky enough to receive one. We don’t normally have too much vampire trouble in Arbor Woods.”
“Well, we’ve got to try to fight off the shroud’s effects. For instance, I’m feeling drawn towards the basement, but I know nothing good ever happens in basements.”
“I agree wholeheartedly,” James said. “I don’t wanna go down to the basement.”
“And yet, we’re all looking for a way to get to there, aren’t we?” Maria asked.
“Seems to be the case,” Phil responded as he walked out of the living room and into the hallway. Forces beyond his control pulled him in the direction of an open door at the end of the hall. The others followed. As they neared the door, light flickered to life over a staircase just past the door that led downward.
“I know this is a bad idea, but I don’t seem able to stop myself,” James said.
At the bottom of the stairs, more lights came on. They stood in the middle of a very nicely furnished basement. In the corner was a bar area, a billiard table off to one side. Surrounding them were chairs and sofas, a coffee table, shelves overflowing with books and on one wall a large flat screen TV, a small stereo on a low table beneath that.
Having expected to meet a bloody end in a dank pit, the foursome looked in wonder at all the creature comforts.
“Make yourselves at home.” As if from thin air, Augusta appeared in their midst. “I want you to make yourselves comfortable, but you already know that, or are at least starting to get the idea.” Speaking half to herself, she said, “I’m really liking this mental shroud thing. It’s very cool, and I am so good at it.”
She walked around the large room, pointing out the fully stocked refrigerator, the remote controls for the TV and stereo. “Please, if you use any of the electronic equipment, keep the sound as low as possible, and no billiard playing. Too noisy. We don’t want anyone to know you’re here.”
Bulldog fought through the shroud long enough to ask if Molly was here, if she was safe.
Augusta focused her attention on him, trying extra special hard to make sure he got cloudy again and stayed that way. “Molly is fine,” she said to Bulldog. “She’s in the house and she’s safe.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in cahoots with the evil fat guy?” James asked.
“He’s not fat,” Augusta said, “he’s just big boned. He is evil though.”
“We thought you were leading us to our deaths,” Maria said.
“Yeah, well, that may have been the plan once upon a time,” Augusta responded, “but plans change. Right now, what I want is for all of you to stay here, keep quiet, and do not leave until I tell you it’s safe to do so. Understood?”
Each person nodded, mumbled something affirmative. Then, in the blink of an eye, Augusta was gone.
Wembley and Bulldog, Maria and James were immobile, an odd fog shrouding their brains. They may have stood like that for five minutes, or five hours. There was no concept of time for people in their state.
Shaking his head slightly to rid himself of his mental cobwebs, James asked with thickened speech, “What just happened?”
“I don’t know,” Maria said, feeling equally fuzzy. “Are you okay?”
“I feel funny,” James responded, “and I don’t know why.”
“I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere before,” Phil said. In a few seconds, the fog lifted somewhat, and they were able to move, each of them taking tentative steps.
“Where’s Archie?” Maria asked. “Did Lazarus take him?”
“I’m not sure what’s going on,” Phil said. “I feel like I’m under the influence of something, I just don’t know what.”
“It’s a mental shroud,” Bulldog said. “Vampires use it to cloud people’s minds, confuse them, or influence them to do something they wouldn’t normally do. I’m surprised you don’t know about that stuff Wembley.”
Rubbing his forehead, Phil responded, “I’ve heard of the mental shroud, but I’ve never been lucky enough to receive one. We don’t normally have too much vampire trouble in Arbor Woods.”
“Well, we’ve got to try to fight off the shroud’s effects. For instance, I’m feeling drawn towards the basement, but I know nothing good ever happens in basements.”
“I agree wholeheartedly,” James said. “I don’t wanna go down to the basement.”
“And yet, we’re all looking for a way to get to there, aren’t we?” Maria asked.
“Seems to be the case,” Phil responded as he walked out of the living room and into the hallway. Forces beyond his control pulled him in the direction of an open door at the end of the hall. The others followed. As they neared the door, light flickered to life over a staircase just past the door that led downward.
“I know this is a bad idea, but I don’t seem able to stop myself,” James said.
At the bottom of the stairs, more lights came on. They stood in the middle of a very nicely furnished basement. In the corner was a bar area, a billiard table off to one side. Surrounding them were chairs and sofas, a coffee table, shelves overflowing with books and on one wall a large flat screen TV, a small stereo on a low table beneath that.
Having expected to meet a bloody end in a dank pit, the foursome looked in wonder at all the creature comforts.
“Make yourselves at home.” As if from thin air, Augusta appeared in their midst. “I want you to make yourselves comfortable, but you already know that, or are at least starting to get the idea.” Speaking half to herself, she said, “I’m really liking this mental shroud thing. It’s very cool, and I am so good at it.”
She walked around the large room, pointing out the fully stocked refrigerator, the remote controls for the TV and stereo. “Please, if you use any of the electronic equipment, keep the sound as low as possible, and no billiard playing. Too noisy. We don’t want anyone to know you’re here.”
Bulldog fought through the shroud long enough to ask if Molly was here, if she was safe.
Augusta focused her attention on him, trying extra special hard to make sure he got cloudy again and stayed that way. “Molly is fine,” she said to Bulldog. “She’s in the house and she’s safe.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in cahoots with the evil fat guy?” James asked.
“He’s not fat,” Augusta said, “he’s just big boned. He is evil though.”
“We thought you were leading us to our deaths,” Maria said.
“Yeah, well, that may have been the plan once upon a time,” Augusta responded, “but plans change. Right now, what I want is for all of you to stay here, keep quiet, and do not leave until I tell you it’s safe to do so. Understood?”
Each person nodded, mumbled something affirmative. Then, in the blink of an eye, Augusta was gone.
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