(a sequel to White Gloves)
"The Quiet Garden".
It had been years since I had my own little place when I bought this minute brick house. I'd never really seen the point; I could knock around an inn with whatever money I managed to swindle or pocket from my latest victim. I don't really need to sleep much, so somewhere to clean myself and maybe have a bit of privacy was all I wanted.
Then I met Marigold. It still feels like a fever dream. I'd managed to get enough money together to get into a school for sign languages to help me deal with my condition, and she was just the sweetest, most patient, most understanding attendant there. I was a lousy student at best, but even then she knew how to get the best out of me. A blessed woman.
Even since I was turned, I'd never fully given up on humanity. A lot of what the other vampires say is true - sure, there is truly rot everywhere amongst their ranks. Corrupt, debauched, violent, selfish. Everything they accuse us of being, they are tenfold. But every now and then, one of them makes me remember that spark. Hope, altruism, selflessness, love. Marigold is just the prime example.
It took me a while to work up the courage to reveal to her the tragic truth; that I was a creature of the night, that I lost my voice when my maker ripped my throat to shreds the night he turned me, that I always dress to hide those scars but they are still there and they still hurt. That our classmate who dared hurt her out of frustration never came back because I took care of him.
But... It was coming to an end. I'd learned well enough, my funds ran dry, and it was time to let someone else take my place, they told me. I didn't want to let go of Marigold. So I told her everything, in the way she'd painstakingly taught me how to. Wouldn't I know it... The way she reacted? Empathy. Care, love, sharing my pain. She wasn't afraid - she knew well I would never hurt her. Never.
She embraced me. She cried a little, I think. We kissed - not a kiss of seduction and lust, at least not at first, but of just raw emotion. We had this connection, now... Love, deep care, two sweet beings who didn't want to let go.
So we didn't. She stayed at the school a few more months, but we saw each other almost every day. After I was out, I worked on gathering money again, more motivated than I ever was. And when we had just enough pooled together, she said her goodbyes to the school and we got this place. A home, finally. Something that could sustain us (her, mostly) as well as house us.
So in our little brick house on the corner, in the middle of this tiny town, we opened up "The Quiet Garden". She grows roses and pretty flowers in the greenhouse out back, and we sell them in what was the house's little lounge up front. It gets enough money in that no one's suspicious of our being here, although I still supplement that in my own way. I make sure we never get any trouble. Of course, the two women living together, holding hands and kissing now and then raises eyebrows, but I make sure any hecklers are dealt with.
Marigold knows what I do, and she's at peace with it. I spare her the details, but she insists that I keep her informed. Makes me more pure of heart, she says, though I mostly just do it to keep her happy. I've never had qualms ridding humanity of its ugliest parts, help shape the diamond from the rough in my own little way.
I've fed on her a few times, now. I try not to - it puts her out of action for quite a bit when I do, and it can't be good for her health... She's not a meal for me, she's dessert, a sweet treat, a square of chocolate you allow yourself once in a few months.
A pang of pain... Right. Her health. It haunts me more every day, every week, that one day she'll be gone, she won't be here but I will. I don't know what'll happen of me, I worry I'll break, I'll turn fully feral after losing my anchor. Even if she's gone, I don't want to ruin her memory, everything good she's done for me. She says I need to live in the moment, not let that fear ruin it. I try, I try so much for her, but it's here, it's always here, it's everywhere, it's...
She turns around in bed and embraces me, as if on cue, sensing my distress through her slumber. I hold her dear and close, running my hand through her golden hair. Thank you, my sweet gift, my heart of gold. I lay a little kiss on her forehead and hold her tight.
I quietly broom around the Garden. The last rays of the dying sun stream in through the gaps in the curtains, and I make sure to dance around them as I keep sweeping. We've got six or seven vases full of bouquets ready from whomever wants them. Mostly roses, this time of year. It always fascinated me how much Mary loves them despite her name hinting to a different favourite. She says the thorns and the deep red hues make her think of me. She's just too sweet.
I dust and clean off the chalkboards. We have some just about everywhere, on the walls, counters, at our counter next to our fancy new cash register. I can't talk to the customers, obviously, so I need some way of communicating with them. It does the trick nicely enough, though it does fall flat when our illiterate regulars come in. We still manage to understand each other, tried and true human ingenuity and all that.
The bells above the door ring. A late customer. I make sure to be out of the entrance's blast zone as gracefully as possible, heading for the nearest chalkboard, heading up to greet--
Ah. It's... Her. Here.
Lady White stands there, seemingly as stunned as I am for a moment, though she regains her composure much quicker than I.
"Well... This is a surprise. Afternoon, Crim. You work this place..?"
I still stare at her as she takes it in. "I thought the thick curtains were an odd touch. I suppose it all makes sense now."
She sighs deeply. "Calm, Crim. I'm here for flowers. I have a grave to dress and a funeral to embellish. I'm just here for the roses."
I'm not reassured, but enough to snap out and write on my board - prices per flower, per bouquet. I point out a few of our arrangements that might fit. Then I hear the stairs creaking...
"A late customer! Hello there. I thought I heard someone out here..." Marigold says, entering the room as quietly as she can.
A wolfish grin dawns on the Lady's lips as she pieces things together. "Evening, madam. As I was telling your quiet clerk, I am organizing a funeral and am in need of your services..."
"Oh... Oh, my condolences, truly. Please, come to the counter, we can discuss this..."
Mary doesn't suspect a thing - she doesn't know who or what this person is, yet jumps to apologies and condolences. She's just too sweet for her own good sometimes...
By the look the Lady sends me as she walks to the counter, this isn't the last we've seen of her here...