V-Pec: Meeting the Rapunzels

When I was a baby, my parents seemed to be madly in love and went on many dates, many of which I was left in the care of Aunt Lilith. I don’t recall much about the days, mainly just memories of stories about my early days. There is one distinct thing I remember because my father used to do this trick even when I was older. It’s just a dumb party trick using his vampiric powers to trick the mind into believing that he isn’t holding anything.

He starts by letting his energy trickle over the glass so that it deflects attention and make people look the other way. Pulling it out from under the counter in a dramatic way he holds it in such a way that his hand is visible to everyone and it looks like he is pretending to hold something. Then to startled shouts, he will start tipping a very expensive drink upside down over the ‘invisible’ cup to make people worried that he is wasting the drink.

When they gasp in shock that nothing is hitting the floor he will move on to the ice. Dropping them in from a large height so that when they hit the glass, they just disappear into nothing.

Next, he’ll mix vigorously with a stir stick making sure it chimes against the glass, astounding everyone that they can hear actual glass.

His favorite, the piece de resistance, is when he puts the cap on top and shakes vigorously, and then reveals the wet lid to his audience to shocked gasps. When I was little, I was one of them. Now I just think it’s dumb. Why would even want to waste his time on such a dumb party trick. I guess it is his love for the food and drinks that taste like ash to our mouths now, that makes him want to find some love in what he can no longer have.

“Ta da!” He would always say at the end when he poured the drink out into glasses and served it to his stunned audience. Mother hissing in the background because she had transitioned into being a vampire very poorly. The audience at whatever party my parents had thrown would applaud and take their drinks then the crowd would break up into individual groups; dancing, or conversing; now that the show was over.

Based on the stories I’ve been told over the years, I can only assume that even back then, it was the same performance as the ones that I can recall. What I still don’t understand, is why so many sims flocked to these parties. They knew that my mother couldn’t control her urges. They’d seen her feast on the neck of another party guest over and over, and yet, they kept coming back. What foolish notion made them return? Did they really enjoy the foolish show that much?

Was it Duchess? Our precious cat that wandered the world and explored constantly that brought them in?

Her adorable antics that I found on her ancient simstigram account do seem to indicate that she might have been part of the success of their parties. Perhaps also the free food and free drink that was offered. Hmm… a note to use in the future perhaps. Cute animals, food, and drink to bring in prey.

Heh. I mean drinks.  Darn it, I mean party guests.

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What I don’t know much about, is the shed in the woods that Father owns. I’ve recently found a deed to it buried in a box of paperwork and had to explore it because I was intrigued that they had kept this a secret.

It was small and cozy. I could imagine my father coming here as a retreat from hurting sims, feasting instead on the blood of fish and frogs, reading a book in the worn chairs.

Playing a game of chess at the table, though I couldn’t picture anyone playing against him. Aunt Lilith he would find to competitive to play against because it would take away the fun. Mother wouldn’t play him because she would take away the fun because of how bad she is at the game.

Perhaps there is someone else that he would meet here in these woods instead. I sat at the empty chess table that’s pieces were in the hidden drawer underneath and pulled out the other paperwork that I found in the same box.

My hand brushed the pictures of the child in the bassinet. I knew the pictures were of me, it could be no one else.

The house changed so much when I was little. Mother kept rebuilding and changing things. Like she couldn’t decide why something was wrong and was trying to find what it was, or at least get to a satisfied point where she at least felt like something was right.

I was so sweet and innocent then. I almost don’t want to think back on those times. It makes my lip curl with irritation. I don’t think I’m anything like what I was then. My life has changed drastically since then. Right now, I am just glad that I’m sitting in a cabin alone where no one can see me look over these images and think back on my life.

There is one benefit to being in the location my Aunt and father picked for us. Garlic Gutter has made our own house inconspicuous. Everyone knows that vampires are allergic to garlic. They don’t realize that we can get an immunity to it if we are around it enough. If we like garlic, we must be just an act. We don’t actually drink blood and cause hallucinations, and all the other nasty things are kind is known for. So living on a street that is known for its garlic, makes others see us differently than we act.

I like this rumor. It makes some things much easier.

My hand brushed the last picture. Perhaps I wasn’t as innocent back then as I thought from all the stories I’ve been told. I look like I might have an idea of what has been planned for me. I shuffled the pictures back together and wrapped the ribbon back around them and tied it off before pulling the next stack of photographs to me.

Wondering what emotions would be brought to me this time.

A smiled tweaked the corner of my hardened lips as I looked down upon Duchess. The precious sassy cat from my childhood. She really was clearly a big part of the family when she was still around. I brushed a clawed finger across her golden eyes and wished that the fangs on her lips had been real and that she could have been still around. I have a feeling that she would have been an amazing companion for my life now.

This one must have been from one of her wanderings around town. I am pretty sure the bench is one that is in the courtyard in front of Grand Master Vlad’s mansion.

Heh. I felt the sneer cross my face when I wrote his name. He is a huge smear on our history and has been around far too long. It is high time for the man to go. I guess that’s is why I’ve come out here to the hidden cabin that we own a deed to. I know I am the one that is going to have to face him… and soon. I’m not prepared for the day.

I’m… I’m actually scared. He’s pure evil and cruel, and just a bit of an idiot. But he’s been around for so long that he has far to much power. I haven’t even been around for even a quarter of his lifetime. How can I possibly be the one to take him down. To complete the wishes of Aunt Lilith.

Will I be strong enough?

What happens after I complete my task? Am I just to be a figurehead? A pawn for my Aunt to control and rule with? Will I now have the power to rule everyone else? Will she realize that she has placed me in a position of absolute power and bow down to my own wishes for once?

But, what happens if I fail? Will the revolt against the Grand Master my family has been plotting turn into an all-out war? Will I be killed? Will my family be killed in revenge? Will they be spared?

I shove the thoughts aside for the moment and look at the next picture and shake my head with a chuckle. Duchess is playing with that gaudy duster again. She’s broken many of them from what I can tell. There was a whole collection of them sitting in the box I found. Stuffed inside a plastic bag.

I have no idea why mother kept them. It’s just a ridiculous feather toy for a cat, what possible reason did she have to keep them?

Seeing the sassy smile on Duchess I think I might have an idea. Perhaps it is just out of love for her precious cat, and she didn’t have the heart to throw any of them away.

Or perhaps she was hoping to turn them into a fluffy feather filled bed for Duchess. I’d ask, but I don’t want them to realize I’ve been digging through old boxes and getting sentimental.

Looking at these photos confirms that the house certainly wasn’t very finished back then. I’m glad mother finally settled on something though and stopped changing the house so drastically all the time. Too much has happened in my life to have to worry about construction work on top of it all.

I let my mind wander as I looked at the rest of the pictures of Duchess in the stack.

I wanted to find comfort in my mother petting her, and that little smile as she turned up her head appreciatively. I could imagine stroking her little head myself, but it just doesn’t calm your nerves like it would if she was really here, purring against my hand and sending the vibration through my blood stream.

Heh, it’s funny calling it my bloodstream when it is so tainted by the blood of others. My heart didn’t stop working properly until my teenage years. It’s when I had to start relying on filling my veins with the thirst of a vampire. The act of drinking blood seals an ancient magical pact that allows our hearts to move the blood through our bodies so that we can still function. So that we still have control over our own bodies. . .

If our hearts are struggling from the lack of drinking blood, we hit bloodlust.

Bloodlust activates are primal side. We go into a blind hunt in the desperation to stay alive. If it happens to a vampire to many times they can go insane… or they can go feral.

There have been more ferals lately under the Grand Master’s control. He’s been in power so long, the vampires in his control have stopped being able to feed as often as they used to. His needs come first. Not to mention the requirement to keep our lives secret from the world, so we’ve secluded ourselves from other sims that we could feed from.

I’m talking in the vampiric history sense of course. It’s obvious my family has not secluded themselves. Now the world is modernized and is beginning to notice our existence. We’re not a fairy tale. We need to get control of the ferals. We need to strengthen our community. We need to convince the uncursed sims to donate their blood to us regularly so that we may survive.

One way or another.

I absently realized that I had finished the pictures and was stacking them and tying them back off with their ribbon. I picked up the next, still deep in thought. The ribbon slipped to the table top as I untied it and I looked down at the next picture.

“Father?!” The word slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I was surprised seeing the picture with that look on his face.

I quickly flipped to the next picture and saw my mother smiling. I had a feeling I knew what this stack of pictures held. It felt like breaking their privacy since they had never shown these to me. But I couldn’t help myself, I was curious.

The next picture showed what the living room used to look like. Mother didn’t like the shape and changed it up multiple times as I’ve mentioned before. This must have been an early moment in their relationship. Father looks surprised that mother is kissing him. I don’t think they mentioned that she approached him first. Perhaps he was even thinking about the plot he and Aunt Lilith had, that it was clearly going to be easier than they expected.

I flipped to the next photo, and there was Mother in all her glory in the exact pose of a painting that hung on our walls. I looked closer, this must have been the reference that Father used. Why didn’t he just hang the picture? It honestly looked better than the painting did.

They were really happy together… I shook as I flipped to the next picture.

Yes… this is what I thought it was going to be. Their wedding… I don’t think they wanted me to see these pictures, and I don’t know why. It looked like a beautiful small wedding. Wait. I leaned closer trying to see the woman in the red dress in the back row. Crossing my fingers I flipped to the next photo.

Curses, it’s from the back. But… Is that Bella Goth?