Categories > Original > Drama > Karin: The Inquisition

7

by paladin313 0 reviews

7

Category: Drama - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Horror,Humor - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2009-05-28 - Updated: 2009-05-29 - 4436 words - Complete

0Unrated
Chapter 7

All the ladies were still doting over Innocent, although Innocent was still stinging—not just from the spanking, but also from the verbal spanking. Jean-Claude had called her a spoiled brat, essentially telling her that she could not see the forest for the trees. However, she was frustrated that it seemed no one could see things from her point of view. She did not ask to be given the mantle of the fount, she did not ask to be shipped like cargo to God knows where, and then to have some strange boy sneak in and then do…well…she could not really say if he did anything. The fact that he jumped in with her when there was no need was bad enough. Now, here he was, with nothing for himself. Everyone else had their essentials shipped with them, with the promise of their personal goods coming over time. He had nothing. She had to admit, if she did need a protector, he was handy, but she did not ask for this. She did not ask what she considered a lovesick puppy to do the things that he did. Granted, he showed that he was willing to sacrifice everything for her, but was she that special. Hondo was feeling low, and kept his distance from the entourage for two reasons: one, none of the girls really trusted him, and two, because he was so low, he did not want to risk her having a nosebleed. She knew full well that she would not release into him, as Karin had at one time to Kenta. There was still the fertility issue, in that, many were fertilized, but it was not known how far that blood had gone. He had no idea if any of the girls around here had yet been fertilized, and he had a sincere worry that they might drain her, if for no other reason than out of necessity, before she could finish the puzzle, so to speak. Meanwhile, Innocent did not like how they were calling her Psyche, and she kept insisting that they call her Innocent. “Really,” said Innocent, “Is all this necessary?”
“Oh, but Psyche…” said Bridgette, but Innocent cut in and said, “INNOCENT!”
“Sorry,” said Bridgette, “…Innocent…you are our help, our salvation!”
Innocent knew what that meant, because she recalled how Karin had told her about what had happened to her about eight or nine years before. “Look,” she said, “This is real sweet and all, but I know what you mean by what you said. I really do wish to live, you know.”
Bridgette put her hand to her mouth, and then remembered herself. She realized that the girl was scared that she might be drained. Bridgette then said, “Aw!” and gave her a big hug. She then said, “Don’t worry, it’s not like before. The only way we want your blood is if you give it to us when you are ready, and only as much as you can give at that time. We would not think of doing what had happened before. Trust us, you are quite safe!”
Another in the entourage then said, “In the meantime, while you wait for your human prince charming, you can help us!”
“Of course,” said Bridgette, “Japan has benefited, but here, in the states, we have waited. Therefore, until you do wed, you are still valuable to us.”
“I take it we are in the U.S. then?” asked Innocent, “No one told us anything.”
“Well, we intended to,” said Bridgette, “But…” and she looked behind her at Hondo with a dirty look, and he just hung his head even more. Innocent then said, “So, what is all this fuss about me and a human? Why does it have to be a human? Why can’t it be another vampire?”
The entourage all looked at each other, and then Bridgette asked, “How much do you know?”
“All I know is that everyone tells me I have to wed a human, or at least fall in love with him, have a kid, and have that kid join the Marker kids, and that is that.”
All the girls looked at each other, and then began to giggle. Bridgette then said, “It’s more than that, your highness.”
“Your highness!” exclaimed Innocent, “What is that all about!”
“To us,” said another girl, “You are a princess. You are the key to a new era.”
“You see,” said Bridgette, “it’s more than just that child. The whole thing for centuries was the fact that the fount was supposed to fall in love with a human. When that happened, then all the vampires in the world would be fertile forever, with no more need for the fount. The spirit of that fount is supposed to be reborn as the child that would be the blessed one, and that child would bring all vampires and humans into a peaceful era. Thus, it is more than just the child. Think about it: did you ever stop to think why there was so much human about you? That was to make you attractive to the humans. Once you do fall in love with one, your blood will cease to rise, and you would essentially be a human with a nasty overbite, (the fangs don’t go away!) You would live a normal mortal life at that point, your child would be Golconda, like the other kids, and that would be that.”
Innocent now looked sad. It seemed that her life was indeed planned from the beginning. However, this would not have been so if Karin had not dried up. Had not Ryuu stepped in when he did, all that Bridgette had said might have been swept aside, and it could have been another millennium before the fount returned, that is, if there were any vampires left! She was happy that the chance had remained, she just did not like the fact that it fell on her. If there were not a connection to this in her from the Edwards and the Markers somewhere along the family tree, (and probably distant,) this would not be happening. Now she was royalty to these people, and they were treating her as if she was the queen, and they were her ladies in waiting. She just shook her head and let the matter go for that time.

In the meantime, they arrived at her room, and it happened to be the best guest room the manor had. Hondo was being forced to carry her goods, as if her were her slave. Bridgette firmly turned around, and said with a frown, “Set those there! Go into that room, and wait. Go nowhere! You must be briefed!”
Hondo did not like how he was being pushed around, but what could he do? He did as he was bidden, and went into the antechamber. It was being used as a storage room, there was not much in the way of room, and there was no bed. He found a stool, sat on it, and waited like a man awaiting execution. Meanwhile, in the main room, everything was being arranged. They constantly asked her questions about the accommodations, if it were well, how she wanted things, where she wanted things, about décor, and how she wanted all her incoming things arranged. Innocent spoke only when she needed to, and just sat on the bed. All the time, Bridgette was being as sweet as saccharine, and was putting her paws all over Innocent, as if she were a doting mother. Innocent found it interesting how her attitude could go from sugar sweet to witch in the blink of an eye. She knew that Jean-Claude could be this way, but she never thought she would meet another that would do this. Innocent was not sure if she really liked how Bridgette was treating her, but it was better than being treated as a prisoner. Bridgette then said, “Christy here is going to be your handmaiden. Anything you need or want, she will tend to it. Please, don’t be sad. This is your new home for now, and you are not our prisoner, you are our guest. Make yourself at home. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to tend to the human.”
Innocent then realized the way she spoke, and did not care too much for it. Although Hondo was a doofus to her, he was still a fellow Clansmen, and she was going to set it straight. “Excuse me…Bridgette, is it? Um…I may not care for him in that way, but that is a friend…in a sense. He is a member of the Clan, as I am, and he is a comrade at the very least. I would appreciate a touch better treatment of him. His feelings may have been misguided, but his sentiment is not off the mark. At the very least, what he did was in line with a good Clansman caring about another member of the family, so I cannot say too much about it.”
Bridgette hung her head a touch and she realized that, because of the bad start to things, some of her old prejudices were sneaking back in. For the sake of Kenta and Fumio, she knew she had to reel it in, or she might say something to one of them, who had only her, and her family’s, best interests at heart. “I apologize,” said Bridgette, “but after today, it’s hard to speak well.”
“What Jean-Claude did was not really out of hate,” she said, “I have known him now for eight years. If he had wanted, he could have killed him.”
“That was a cousin,” said Bridgette, “That hurt to watch.”
“But, he’s a vampire,” said Innocent, “I am sure it still hurt quite a bit, but even then, it was nothing he could not heal up, and I think Jean-Claude understood this, or else he never would have done it. He has his own way of getting his point across, and indeed, when he says that he is walking death to the vampire, he is not kidding! Combine the best traits of the vampire, and the vampire hunter, and you have Jean-Claude. This is why only the eldest of vampires would even stand a chance against him. He is ruthless when it comes to evil. Just be glad that he is on our side! What he did, in his own way, was make a statement: show harm with hatred to anyone he loves, and you sign your own death certificate. He will not tolerate hate or prejudice in any form!”
The color left Bridgette’s face, and she swallowed hard. She now knew that she would have to tread lightly around him. However, Innocent detected this, and she said, “Hey, you get on his good side, and he’s a great big teddy bear! Give him a chance, and you’ll see.”
With that, she went to deal with Hondo.

She walked in with the resolve to be firm, but not aggressive, in explaining the rules. He had to know his limits, but for the sake of Innocent, she was going to attempt to keep from chastising him. However, when she walked in, it was dark, and he was on a stool, in a corner, staring at the wall. He looked like someone had just shot his puppy. Before she could speak, he spoke, still staring at the wall, not even looking up. “Here to take you licks, too?” he asked, not snidely, but with the heart of a man consigned to some bad fate. Now Bridgette was stuck. She wanted to be firm. This was a mere human, after all, but for some reason, she just could not. She normally did not reason like this, but she began to wonder what it would be like if she were in a house full of humans that despised her. She still spoke Japanese, so she decided that this would be the best approach. “No, hum…Hondo,” she said, catching herself, “I actually came in here to set you straight on some things, but if you were any lower, you would be in the floor.”
“Can you blame me?” he asked, “All I was trying to do was protect her, and this is what happens. I guess no good deed goes unpunished, eh?”
This was making it harder. However, she was so surprised at how he was acting. He really did care about her that much. She weighed her words, and began to approach Hondo slowly, and not in an intimidating fashion. “If I were to speak strictly from a vampire’s perspective,” she said, “your care and willingness to see the Psyche’s well being would be both impressive and quite welcome, considering her worth. However…” she thought some more before continuing. She wanted him to get the right impression on what she was feeling at that moment, and she wanted to get into his head before he turned them all off. She said, “…however, I have never seen another human care for a vampire so much. I saw it in Kenta, and did not understand fully at that time the reasons why. I just wasn’t sure it could happen again. Yet, now, here you are. You really are willing to take a bullet for her?”
“Absolutely,” he said, now looking up at her.
“You like her that much?” she asked.
“It’s more than that she is a fellow Clan member, she is a great girl.”
“No offense, but certainly there are other girls in this world that would…”
“There is no other her.”
“What is so special about her over other girls?”
He pondered for a moment, and then said, “She’s so quiet, and seemingly, so sad. Even though the Psyche traits were recessive in her at one time, because of them, she was still up in the day; separate from her family, not able to associate. I can only think that this is how Karin could have ended up. However, Innocent’s father kept her more reclusive, and thus, Innocent was quiet and sad. She hoped that there could be some answers to things. Then she had the mantle of fount thrust on her, and that made her more introverted. I bled in my heart for her. She’s just to pretty to be sad like that all the time. I wanted to do what I could to make her happy, but she kept pushing me away. That made me sad, and now, because she is the fount, her taste is sorrow, as Karin’s is unhappiness. If I am around her, she may bleed. I don’t want to hurt her: I want her happy. If she were with me, I would never be sad. I don’t know why she keeps rejecting all my care. Yet, I’m going to keep caring, even if no one else cares that I do. The truth is, outside of my ‘special talents,’ I really have nothing. She would complete me, and I could make her happy. Why can’t she see that? She needs to come out and live life. What is she afraid of?”
Now, her mother hen instinct kicked in, and she actually hugged him, saying, “That is the sweetest thing I have ever heard! Let me tell you what: give me a chance to talk to her, and maybe I can get her to open up. In the meantime, just be there for her, and keep proving yourself.”
She then remembered why she was there, and then said, “Now, since you have put yourself at her feet, whatever she needs is your priority. I’ll introduce you to Christy, and between the two of you, you can make sure her needs are met. The manor is yours to roam, but be careful, because there are others that may not yet accept you. Just be careful. There are other things that Richard wants to tell all of you later, and he’ll fill you all in on the rest. Now, you’ll need some things.”
She began to look around and said, “Well, for now, I guess this will have to be your bed.”
She then pulled up a well-lined and well-cushioned coffin. “I’ll talk to Jean-Claude and see if he can help get you some things.”
She began to go, but then she looked back and said, “I suppose I should hate you, but your heart is too big for me to do that. However, if your kind wants a good chance to coexist with vampires, if you do well here, you shall accomplish much. Don’t give up hope.”
With that, she took her leave. Hondo scratched his head about the coffin, but what else could he do. In the meantime, to take his mind off things, he began to rearrange the anteroom, make some room, and to try to make it more hospitable.

In the meantime, Jean-Claude wanted to see how Anjou was settling in. He was not sure of her state of mind. So much had happened so fast since she lost Francois and he felt he needed to encourage her as much as possible. He grabbed an extra Bible, and began to wander the halls. As he walked, all that he encountered was cordial enough, but they kept their distance as well. He went out to the vast courtyard in the back, and began to meditate. He then said, “Lord, I lost it tonight. That a point needed to be made is not at question. What is is how I sent it. It seems that I just had to make it plain that I shall not tolerate prejudice, and if we are to face down this latest threat, we have to be unified. Father, we are so close to a great moment in history, and it cannot go by the wayside.”
It was then he began to feel something stir in his heart. He began to feel as if God was talking to his heart, and he felt as if God was saying, “Son, you’ve begun to take too much on yourself. Your wrath did not work my righteousness tonight. It was good you humbled yourself, but now you will have to work now to gain back the trust you had when you arrived. Before, it was only a few; now, they all fear you. Was that wise?”
He went to his knees, and began to cry. He realized that he was working so hard to see his dreams fulfilled; he seemed to forget the God that was providing it. He was on his face, crying, and praying for forgiveness because he knew that if he were going to do for Anjou what he planned, he had to be right first. Jean-Claude then said, “Holy Ghost, take and do through me what I cannot, and let me put the burden on you. I have to help these people, and I need all the help I can get. You have to be the one, because I cannot do it alone.”
He then was on his knees again, except this time, his hands were in the air, he felt the presence of God, and felt like a weight lifted off him. He felt much better, and went back into the manor. In the drawing room, there was an organ and a piano. He went over to the piano, and began to play Keith Green’s My Eyes are Dry. He poured out his heart in the song, and then went into other of Keith’s tunes. Since he knew his guests were more than likely not believers as he was, he knew they would leave him in peace. Yet, it did get someone’s attention.

Anjou’s room was not far from the drawing room, and the music was new to her, but played in such a fashion that let her know who the source was. She grabbed her guitar and went to the drawing room. Jean-Claude looked up, and he said, “Corn Muffin…” but stopped himself. “I’m sorry,” said Jean-Claude, “I keep forgetting that, both to vampires and to the regular world, you’re a grown woman. Considering what we are, this is how we shall look forever anyway, and I should give you the respect you deserve and use your name.”
“Well, I know I have acted like I don’t like that name anymore,” said Anjou, “but, right now, it makes me feel young again—gives me a little peace.”
She smiled her small smile, and felt a little peace for the first time in days since Kannon came in to cheer her up that one night. She looked at him, and said, “Big brother, have you been crying?”
He grinned, and said, “Can’t hide anything from you, Muff! Yes, I was.”
“Why?” she then asked.
“I was in the back with the Lord, eating some crow,” said Jean-Claude, “Every once in a while, He lets some things happen to show me that I am not Him. I could have handled it better.”
“Perhaps,” said Anjou, “I can understand your anger.”
“It made things worse, in reality,” he answered.
“What was that you were playing earlier?” she asked.
“Oh, that was some Gospel,” he answered, “Keith Green: I am surprised that you don’t ever remember me playing any of this back home.”
“I don’t remember him,” she said, “but, yes, I know you would rather play this than the other things.”
“If I can,” he said.
She then began to play some nondescript song, and Jean-Claude could see the ashen look to her face. Her music reflected the blues, and he began to play right behind her. She then stopped, and asked, “Big brother, how were you able to rebound from what happened to you?”
“I think I know where you are going with that,” said Jean-Claude, “and, Anjou, it takes some time. Even my mentors knew this. They kept me occupied enough to help get over things, but there were days when it just hurt to get out of bed. Old Jim then took me aside, and told me a gently as he could that he knew my mother, father, and granddad would not like to see me sad. They would want me to go on. He essentially was telling me that I was not the one who died. That hit hard, but he was right. I could have just rolled over and given up, but who would have won then? I cannot say that every single day since then has been perfect. You know that. There comes the occasional day where I still feel the loss.”
“Will I continue to feel it?” she said, tears now welling up in her eyes. He got up from the piano and sat beside her. He put his arm around her and said, “Its okay, Muff; right now, you have the right to cry as much as you want. It’s better than holding it in.”
She buried her head into his chest, and let it rip. He just held her and rocked her back and forth. Once she had got it out of her system, he said, “Yes, those days will come. They will become fewer and fewer as time goes on. Yet, there are ways to make those days better.”
He patted her on the back to indicate that he wanted up. She let him go, and he retrieved the Bible that he was going to give her when he found her, except that she found him. He then went, “Muff, I don’t expect you to become a believer, or anything like that. However, when I am down, I turn to the Psalms. David could play the blues, because he went through the wars—literally and proverbially. These talk about all the benefits that he had in God, in that, when things seemed bad, he could turn it over to God, and he felt better. Let me at least read you this.”
He then began to read the 3rd Psalm, and he said, “A Psalm of David, when he fled from Absalom his son. LORD, how are they increased that trouble me! many are they that rise up against me. Many there be which say of my soul, There is no help for him in God. Selah. But thou, O LORD, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head. I cried unto the LORD with my voice, and he heard me out of his holy hill. Selah. I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the LORD sustained me. I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people, that have set themselves against me round about. Arise, O LORD; save me, O my God: for thou hast smitten all mine enemies upon the cheek bone; thou hast broken the teeth of the ungodly. Salvation belongeth unto the LORD: thy blessing is upon thy people. Selah.”
He then said, “David’s son wheedled the kingdom out from underneath David’s feet, and split the people against David. He even went as far as to shame his father by having his way with David’s wives and concubines in a tent right there in public. People could have told David that he should curse God, or that God had abandoned him. This psalm was David’s answer. The Psalms are rife with this kind of thing. Even if you don’t get anything religious out it, know that you can still get inspiration from it.”
He thought for a moment, and then said, “You’ve been studying musical theory: look at the structure of the psalm. You have a recitative, and aria, and changes of pace and cadence. Even if you don’t want to believe in God, at least try this. Look at their structure musically, and imagine in your head what you would compose as music underneath it if David asked you to write. It might be fun.”
At first, she wanted politely to refuse, but when he looked at it musically, she was interested. She then said, “Thank you, Big Brother. I have to trust your word that it would make me feel better, because you have not let me down yet.”
She hugged him, and then she said, “It will get better.”
He then said to Anjou, “Now, that’s what I want to hear.”
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