Sophie, part 5
Nov. 22nd, 2014 01:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scripsiTitle: Sophie
Disclaimer: The character of Dracula is free, but what I have borrowed from Elizabeth Kostova's "The Historian" is hers.
Rating: PG13
Category: Angst/horror
Summary: Two women meet in a library, but one of them isn't quite who she seems. And Dracula does not take kindly to perceived competition. A sequel to "Clara". The Historian fandom but can be read by anyone who enjoys vampire stories.
It was impossible to tell time in the cellar, especially as Sophie slept in short fits, but she felt it must have been hours before the door opened again. She had expected Dracula to return for her, but to her surprise it was Clara. She was once again dressed in one of her suits, her hair carefully styled and her skin was now completely healed. She went up to Sophie and gathered her into her arms, as if she didn't have more weight than a baby. She carried Sophie out, up into the house, once again walking though long corridors and then more stairs.
"Where are you taking me?"
"To my room."
Sophie sighed and wrapped her arm arms around Clara's neck. She had gradually felt worse while she waited in the cellar and now she felt too ill to even worry anymore.
Clara's room were large and just like Dracula's room it was filled with books, but it was warm and the curtains were drawn from the big French windows and Sophie could see a glimpse of the night sky. The furniture were both old and new, a mix that made the room seem comfortable and inviting. Clara carried her through it, into a bathroom were a steaming bath had already been drawn. Sophie allowed Clara to remove her clothes and bathe her without protests or not even feeling embarrassed over her nakedness naked. The bath finally made her feel warm again and wonderfully clean. There were no bed in Clara's room, but one of the sofas was made up with crisp linen sheets and soft duvets and pillows for Sophie. Clara made her drink a little warm broth and some sweet tea, but Sophie, exhausted by blood loss and worry slipped away into a deep sleep before she could even finish her meal.
Days passed in an oddly dreamlike state for Sophie. She slept a lot and when she was awake she had little energy. Clara was not there during the days, Sophie could not quite bring herself to ask if she really slept and if she really did that in a coffin. A small fridge and a kettle had been provided for Sophie so she could eat something when she was alone. Clara's room was located at the back of the house and faced only high walls that hid it from the other houses that must surround it. There was a small neglected garden several stores down and as evening fell, some kind of flower released its scent, perfuming the air and bringing something into the small world that was alive. There was a small balcony and when Sophie felt better she often say there, trying to catch those few hours when sunlight reached it. Sometimes, when the sun stood high, she cried out, calling for help in the hope that anyone would hear her and come to her help, but she never got any answer.
When she felt better and had more energy she started to read some of the books and when she grew bored with that she asked Clara for something to draw on. Clara returned the next evening laden with art supplies and after that Sophie spent most of her time drawing. She found that to concentrate to what her eyes could see and her hands could draw took away some of the terrible fear that was always nagging away somewhere in the back of her mind. There were also the thoughts of her family and friends that must have missed her by now and who would never find out what had happened to her. Sophie missed them, but somehow not as much as she felt she ought to, but her old life had started to feel even more like a dream than her current one. Perhaps it was her own mind that put in a defense against the pain of everything she had lost by making it seem like it had never been quite real..
And there was Clara. She came after nightfall, bearing food and everything Sophie could need. The first days when Sophie was still weak Clara bathed and fed her like a small child and while Sophie rested, Clara sat with her, reading or writing, when they didn't talk. And the first thing Sophie needed to know, the thing she asked about as soon as could:
"Why am I here? I don't understand, I thought it would be all over now. Why does he let me be with you?"
Clara sighed. "Not out of kindness. You see, he is very old and can get very bored. He is away now anyway and it amuses him to let me have you here with me. Because he knows that it will make it even harder when he do come back and take you away from me. It is just for pleasure, his pleasure.."
So every night that passed was just another reprieve from the end. Sophie lost track of the days and she didn't ask Clara to find out how much time that passed. She just tried to snatch a little happiness And in the end he did come.
Disclaimer: The character of Dracula is free, but what I have borrowed from Elizabeth Kostova's "The Historian" is hers.
Rating: PG13
Category: Angst/horror
Summary: Two women meet in a library, but one of them isn't quite who she seems. And Dracula does not take kindly to perceived competition. A sequel to "Clara". The Historian fandom but can be read by anyone who enjoys vampire stories.
It was impossible to tell time in the cellar, especially as Sophie slept in short fits, but she felt it must have been hours before the door opened again. She had expected Dracula to return for her, but to her surprise it was Clara. She was once again dressed in one of her suits, her hair carefully styled and her skin was now completely healed. She went up to Sophie and gathered her into her arms, as if she didn't have more weight than a baby. She carried Sophie out, up into the house, once again walking though long corridors and then more stairs.
"Where are you taking me?"
"To my room."
Sophie sighed and wrapped her arm arms around Clara's neck. She had gradually felt worse while she waited in the cellar and now she felt too ill to even worry anymore.
Clara's room were large and just like Dracula's room it was filled with books, but it was warm and the curtains were drawn from the big French windows and Sophie could see a glimpse of the night sky. The furniture were both old and new, a mix that made the room seem comfortable and inviting. Clara carried her through it, into a bathroom were a steaming bath had already been drawn. Sophie allowed Clara to remove her clothes and bathe her without protests or not even feeling embarrassed over her nakedness naked. The bath finally made her feel warm again and wonderfully clean. There were no bed in Clara's room, but one of the sofas was made up with crisp linen sheets and soft duvets and pillows for Sophie. Clara made her drink a little warm broth and some sweet tea, but Sophie, exhausted by blood loss and worry slipped away into a deep sleep before she could even finish her meal.
Days passed in an oddly dreamlike state for Sophie. She slept a lot and when she was awake she had little energy. Clara was not there during the days, Sophie could not quite bring herself to ask if she really slept and if she really did that in a coffin. A small fridge and a kettle had been provided for Sophie so she could eat something when she was alone. Clara's room was located at the back of the house and faced only high walls that hid it from the other houses that must surround it. There was a small neglected garden several stores down and as evening fell, some kind of flower released its scent, perfuming the air and bringing something into the small world that was alive. There was a small balcony and when Sophie felt better she often say there, trying to catch those few hours when sunlight reached it. Sometimes, when the sun stood high, she cried out, calling for help in the hope that anyone would hear her and come to her help, but she never got any answer.
When she felt better and had more energy she started to read some of the books and when she grew bored with that she asked Clara for something to draw on. Clara returned the next evening laden with art supplies and after that Sophie spent most of her time drawing. She found that to concentrate to what her eyes could see and her hands could draw took away some of the terrible fear that was always nagging away somewhere in the back of her mind. There were also the thoughts of her family and friends that must have missed her by now and who would never find out what had happened to her. Sophie missed them, but somehow not as much as she felt she ought to, but her old life had started to feel even more like a dream than her current one. Perhaps it was her own mind that put in a defense against the pain of everything she had lost by making it seem like it had never been quite real..
And there was Clara. She came after nightfall, bearing food and everything Sophie could need. The first days when Sophie was still weak Clara bathed and fed her like a small child and while Sophie rested, Clara sat with her, reading or writing, when they didn't talk. And the first thing Sophie needed to know, the thing she asked about as soon as could:
"Why am I here? I don't understand, I thought it would be all over now. Why does he let me be with you?"
Clara sighed. "Not out of kindness. You see, he is very old and can get very bored. He is away now anyway and it amuses him to let me have you here with me. Because he knows that it will make it even harder when he do come back and take you away from me. It is just for pleasure, his pleasure.."
So every night that passed was just another reprieve from the end. Sophie lost track of the days and she didn't ask Clara to find out how much time that passed. She just tried to snatch a little happiness And in the end he did come.
