Charlie stood before the ornate gates. Her fingers on the cold metal bars as she looked at the pathway poking out of the overgrown nature.
She rattled the gates, not expecting them to open but they did. Fitting through, she walked to the burnt remains of a manor house.
Wondering what happened, Charlie picked up a piece of half burnt wood and felt a chill on her back. There was no wind and no one else here but she heard a woman’s whispering voice say, ‘you should not have come here.’
The iron gates were open again. The vampire paused before the archway looking through in puzzlement. It had been forced, he could see where someone had bent the metal aside to get in. Grave robbers? No, not in this century. Vandals then. He glanced over his caped shoulder, scanning the close by gloomy headstones of the Victorian cemetery.
Nothing seemed out of place, but now he was aware, he could smell the recent humans. It had been a group of young men with some sharp chemical spray. He had seen the red and blue paintings before, nights ago now, on some of the gravestones at the back. Blurred and run together English letter shapes and faces with crosses over the eyes and a tongue sticking out. He had not been sure what they had meant, expect for death. Crosses always meant that.
He stepped under the gateway, just to be safer and gathered his ground touching black cape about himself. His tall, lean form molded into the darkness as if he was one of the shadows upon the stone brick wall. Instinctively, he knew he should leave the cemetery all together. The humans had returned too many times now and though it seemed impossible that they would get into the crypt, he could not put anything passed this generation.
The vampire looked back with longing. The grounds had been his home for a hundred, possibly even more, years. And where would he now go? There where no safe places left from the ever bright lights and searching footsteps. He lived in fear of discovery like never before. Maybe, it was time he went to sleep again? He could easily entomb himself with the dead here, just like he had done before.
He fought with the idea and the risk of discovery deepened further. No, he finally decided, it would never work. What he needed to do was to become a part of this world in human pretense. Perhaps, it was time he found a companion.
Standing at the gate, Harry thought of what could have been. The long grass and wild flowers swayed in the meadow as the wind picked up again. He rested his bare arms on the paint peeling wood and wished he’d brought a jacket. He heard what sounded like soft childish laughter and quickly looked around.
Not seeing anyone, he returned to his thoughts. Like ghosts rising up, Harry saw an image of his boyhood self running across the field. Behind him, appeared a blonde haired girl in a blue summer dress. They disappeared into the too tall grass, laughing loudly.
Shaking his head, Harry tried to turn away and leave his past alone again, but something held his gaze. In one of the low branching trees close by, a pink ribbon was fluttering. He moved to retrieve it then thought better of it.
Staying at the gate, he thought about that lost childhood love.