Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Vampire Chronicles – The Interview ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Happy Halloween

 

The idea for this story came to me about a year ago while listening to `Hotel California' by the Eagles. I was too busy to work on it then so I decided to keep it on the backburner and write it this year for Halloween.

 

Hope you enjoy!

 

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Vampire Chronicles - The Interview

Chapter 1

Milliardo squinted as he looked into the distance. Ahead of him, as far as the eye could see, the highway was empty. He hadn't seen another vehicle for hours. Around him was nothing but deserted landscape for miles and miles. What the hell did I get myself into?

He reached for the cell phone that was lying on the seat next to him. One hand on the steering wheel, he pushed the number of the Dailey Gazette and the extension for the editor's office. The phone rung twice then there was a sharp click before a woman's voice announced. “Daily Gazette main office, how may I help you?”

“It's me.”

“Milliardo! Where are you?”

“Where am I?” he snorted. “Somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Tell me Noin, are you sure those driving directions you gave me are correct?”

“Positive,” she told him. “Stay on the I15 and keep driving, and you will eventually reach Victoriaville. It's such a pretty little town and the people there are so laid back; nothing like the big city with all it's hustle and bustle. I wish I could spend my next vacation there….”

“Then why didn't you take this assignment?” Milliardo wanted to know.

Lucrezia Noin had been a reporter, just like him, before she took the job as editor for the small, family owned newspaper. Occasionally, when they were short on personnel, she still went out into the field. Milliardo knew his friend and colleague very much preferred being a reporter over her desk job.

“I would have,” Noin admitted. “But the boss specifically requested you for the job. Besides…look on the bright side.”

“There is a bright side to this?”

“Yeah, this will give you a chance to score a few brownie points with the boss and might make him forget about the towing incident.”

Milliardo huffed. Just being reminded of that so-called incident was enough to make him see red all over again. “The guy is lucky that I only had his car towed. Anyone who doesn't know how to park shouldn't be driving in the first place. I don't care if he is the boss's nephew or the emperor of China; nobody scratches my baby and gets away with it.”

On the other end of the line Noin chuckled. She was well aware that Milliardo could be a little bit overprotective when it came to his sports car; to the point of obsession some people might say.

“So,” he asked. “What's this story about anyway?”

“You mean you haven't yet looked into the envelope I gave you?”

The `envelope' she referred to contained background information about the assignment as well as names and phone numbers of people he was supposed to contact for his interview.

“No, I figured I'd read it tonight in my hotel room. They do have hotel rooms here, don't they?”

“Milliardo!” she admonished. “The place might be a little remote, but it's not the end of the world.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice laced with a mixture of amusement and sarcasm. “I could have sworn I passed a sigh saying `Civilization ends here!' about 20 miles ago.”

Noin huffed. He could almost see her roll her eyes at him.

“Now tell me, what am I out here for?”

“Well, over the past… decades there have been a number of deaths near Victoriaville, mostly at or around Halloween.”

“Hmm…Some crazy serial killer?”

“Who knows; but most of the death appeared to be accidents. However rumor has it that all of the victims had been completely drained of their blood when they were found.”

Now it was Milliardo's turn to roll his eyes. “Oh, come on. You don't believe this kind of crap, do you? Urban legends are usually made up by people with too much time on their hands. And a town in the middle of nowhere, where they turn off the lights and take in the sidewalks at sundown is just the right place for something like that.”

“Urban legend or not,” Noin told him. “It will make a great story for our Halloween Special evening edition. I'll need you to send me the article by noon on the 31st.”

“Alright.” Today was the 29th. A day and a half was more than enough to spend on this nonsense, as far as Milliardo was concerned. “Then I'll talk to you on Thursday.”

“Take care.”

“You too.” He turned off the phone and threw it back onto the seat next to him. A weathered, lonely sign on the road told him that it was still 65 miles to Victoriaville. Milliardo stifled a yawn. Noin, you owe me big time.

#

Milliardo drove for about another thirty minutes; the sun was starting to set, when he finally saw another car in front of him. But once he got closer he realized that the red Honda convertible was sitting at the side of the road with its hood open.

He slowed down even before the passenger, one of two young women, got out of the vehicle and waved at him.

“What's the problem?” he asked as he brought his own car to a stop next to her.

“Actually, we are not even sure. The engine suddenly stalled. And we just filled the tank a little earlier, so we can't be out of gas.”

“Well, let me take a look.” Milliardo pulled up and parked in front of the Honda. He walked to the front of the car and looked under the hood. He checked the usual suspects like oil, sparkplugs and loose cables etc. but from what he could tell without actually taking the engine apart, everything looked like it was in working condition.

“I just had the car in the shop last week.” The other young woman, black-haired and in her late teens or early twenties, said. “You think they messed something up during the check up?”

“Hard to tell.” Milliardo closed the hood and wiped his hands on a piece of cloth he was handed. “But I'm afraid you will need a tow truck.”

“We tried calling one right after we got stuck here, but somehow the phones aren't working. We were beginning to worry that we might have to spend the night out here when you came by.”

“Hmm… Let me see if I can get through.” The young man walked over to his car to get the phone, but as much as he tried he couldn't even get a dial tone. “Odd! Something seems to be blocking the signal; even so we are in a pretty open area.”

“What are we going to do?” the blond girl seemed a little worried.

“Relax. I'm not just going to leave you here by yourselves.” Milliardo told her. “I'm sure they have a repair shop in town that can tow your car in. I'll give you a lift to the nearest hotel where you can spend the night.”

“Thanks, that's really nice of you.” The black haired girl gave him a little smile.

“Think nothing of it.” He made a dismissive gesture. “I'm afraid though, it won't be a luxury ride. One of you will have to take the back seat.” Even though his Ferrari 610 had four seats, it was not exactly a family car.

“That's alright,” she assured him. “By the way I'm Hilde and my friend's name is Sylvia.”

“Nice to meet you, I'm Milliardo. You got anything you need to take?”

“Yeah two small bags; is there enough room?”

“Should be. Let's put them into the trunk.”

As Hilde went to fetch their luggage Milliardo started to move his audio and video gear from the back seat to the trunk as well.

“You need any help with that?” Sylvia asked.

“Well… take this one,” he handed her one of the small bags. “But careful, this is very sensitive equipment. My boss is going to kill me if I break it.”

A few minutes later the trunk was loaded and Sylvia Noventa climbed into the back of the sports car, while her black-haired friend took the seat next to Milliardo. The girls had agreed that they would switch seats later on.

#

“So, you are traveling on business?” Sylvia asked about twenty minutes in do the drive. By now the sun had completely set and darkness had settled over the country side.

Milliardo gave her a surprised look so she added: “You mentioned that your boss was going to kill you if you would break whatever is in those bags.”

“Oh, right. Yes, I have to interview a few people in Victoriaville.”

“You are a journalist? Oh, that's so cool. I don't think I meant a real reporter before. Well, unless you count the guys from the school paper.”

“It's about the vampires, isn't it?” Hilde remarked. “The interviews I mean.”

The young man gave her another look of surprise. “You know about those stories?”

“Of course,” she laughed. “Everybody around here knows. In fact we came here to meet up with some classmates and spend Halloween in town. One of the guys grew up here. He promised to show us the places where they found some of the dead bodies.”

“Creepy, isn't it?” her friend in the backseat added in a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety.

“I suppose.”

“Oh come on, that didn't sound very convincing.” Hilde nudged Milliardo with her elbow. “I for one don't think it's creepy at all, but rather fascinating. Haven't you ever wondered what it must feel like to be immortal… invincible… like a real life vampire?”

“Real life vampire?” the young man echoed. “Isn't that a contradiction in itself?”

“You don't believe in them, do you?” The black haired girl sounded almost disappointed.

“Not really,” Milliardo admitted. “Let's just say I only believe in proven things; things that can be explained and seen, if you know what I mean. In other words, unless I should come across one of them some day there isn't much that could change my mind.”

“You know what they say, don't you?” Sylvia warned. “Be careful what you wish for.”

The young man laughed. But before he could reply his car started to slow down. The engine began to stutter and hack like an asthmatic marathon runner.

“What's wrong?”

“I'm not sure.” Milliardo barely manage of to pull over to the shoulder of the road before the sports car completely stalled. He turned the key in the ignition, cussing silently when the engine didn't restart.

“Come on, this isn't funny.” There was more than just a little hint of panic in Hilde's voice.

“I'm not trying to be.” the young man told her. “Take the driver's seat. I'm going to check the engine. When I tell you to do so, try to start the car.”

“Alright.”

As Milliardo climbed out of the Ferrari and popped the hood open, the black haired girl slipped behind the wheel. For the next 15-minutes or so he went through the name routine he did earlier on the girl's car. In the end the result was the same. He couldn't find anything wrong with the vehicle. Frustration was clearly written across the young man's face as he finally slammed the hood close.

“What are we going to do now?” Sylvia asked quietly.

“Now,” he replied, trying to sound as confident as possible under the circumstances. “We will try to call a tow truck. Maybe the reception is better around here. Why don't you two do that, while I... well, I'll be right back?”

“Wait,” she stopped him. “Where are you going?”

Milliardo pointed toward the brush by the roadside and with a somewhat sheepish smile answered: “I have to... go for little boys. Don't worry, I won't be far.”

In the glow of the car's interior light he could see the blond girl blush slightly and quickly turn to reach for cell phone. “Okay. I'll make the call.”

#

 

“Any luck?” Milliardo asked as he slipped back into the car and closed the door behind himself.

Both girls shook their heads in unison. “Nothing; not even a dial tone. We tried both of our phones.” Hilde told him.

“Alright, so much for that idea. However, while I was out there I saw some lights in the distance; probably a house or something. I'll go and see if we can find help there. At least they should have a working phone from where I can call a tow truck...”

“Wait a second.” Sylvia interrupted him. “What do you mean `you will go'? You don't expect us to stay here by ourselves, do you?”

“Okay,” Milliard sighed. “We will go all together. But don't start complaining if we have to walk a couple of miles.”

“That's still better than staying here alone.”

“Very well then. If you got something warm to wear in your luggage you'd better put it on, it's really gotten cold.”

As the girls went to grab some jackets from their bags in the trunk, Milliardo pulled the emergency kit out from beneath the passenger seat and removed a flashlight from the case. They'd probably need it trying to find their way through the woods.

“Ready to go?” he asked as he locked the car doors and switched on the light.

“Ready,” Hilde confirmed while her friend just silently nodded.

“Okay then, let's stay together and try to watch where you step. The last thing we need is for one of us to break a leg.”

#

They walked through the woods for a good thirty to forty minutes. Ahead in the distance the shimmering lights were slowly getting closer, and it was obvious now that they were coming from a house, a rather large house it seemed.

The night sky was covered in dark clouds that only occasionally ripped open to reveal a patch of shining stars or the large, nearly full moon. But most of the time the forest was draped in deep darkness. Milliardo was glad that he had bought the flashlight to illuminate the ground in front of their feet.

“What are you doing on my property?”

Milliardo nearly jumped at the sound of the voice and one of the girls, he wasn't sure which, grabbed his left arm for support. His head snapped around and his eyes went wide. In the soft glow of the silvery moon, only a few feet to the right stood a man. He was tall, slender and probably in his late twenties. His tawny hair was short and neatly combed, except for a few stray tendrils that had fallen across his forehead. He made an imposing figure; dressed in an elegant 3-piece, black suit and surrounded by an aura of grace and dignity.

“What are you doing on my property?” the man repeated; his voice deep and smooth as velvet.

Milliardo swallowed. “I'm sorry, we didn't mean to trespass. Our car broke down on the interstate,” he explained. “We saw some lights in the distance and hoped we would find some help.”

“I see,” The stranger studied him for a few moments then smiled politely. “My apologies if I startled you. My groundskeeper saw your light and I thought it would be best to go and check out what was going on. We don't get many visitors out here, you see. You are lucky that I found you. The forest can be a very dangerous place at this time of the night.”

There was something about the way he said it that made the hair stand up in the back of Milliardo's neck, and the grip around his arm tightened slightly. “Perhaps we could use your phone to call a repair shop and a taxi?” he asked.

“I'm afraid that won't be possible. Someone cut the phone line, just the other day. Local teenagers I'm sure...” He shrugged and spread his hands in a gesture of helpless resignation. “They use this time of year as an excuse to sneak around at night and play tricks on the neighbors; not that kids ever need an excuse to be mischievous. However,” he continued. “You are more than welcome to spend the night at my house. Tomorrow morning I can have my chauffeur take a look at your car.”

“Are you sure?” Milliardo asked, somewhat hesitant. “We really don't want to inconvenient you.”

“No inconvenience at all,” the man assured them. “Consider yourselves my guests.”

Milliardo exchanged a quick look with his female `travel companions'. It wasn't like they had many options, not unless they wanted to sleep in his car. No, that idea didn't seem too appealing. “Thank you, that's very kind of you.”

The tawny-haired man gave a curt nod before looking up into the sky. “We should probably hurry; I have a feeling it might start to rain soon. I shall lead the way.”

It was obvious that the man was familiar with the area, so well in fact that he didn't even need a light to find his way around. At times his guests had trouble keeping up with him. After about fifteen minutes the forest thinned and they found themselves in a large garden in front of a huge mansion.
Victorian style… Colonial… Milliardo couldn't tell. It was old, very old, that much he knew.

“This way, please.” Just as their host ushered them up a flight of wide marble stairs it started to rain. Large raindrops painted dark splatters onto the white pavement, as they hurried to make it inside.

#

“Wow,” Sylvia exclaimed in a mixture of wonder and amazement as they stepped through the front door and into a large, lobby-like hall with a wide sweeping staircase that led to the second floor. “What a beautiful house.”

“Well thank you,” the tawny-haired man replied politely. “I like to think so myself.”

Indeed, it was beautiful; richly decorated with marble and expensive woods, and furnished in a way that looked like it came directly out of some old 19th century movie.

“It must have cost a fortune to buy a place like this.”

Their host smiled softly. “I really would not know. The estate has been in my family for generations. My great-great-great-grandfather had the house built. And since I have no intention to ever sell it I never had it appraised.”

“Really? That's impressive. Most people these days don't live at one place for a decade, much less for several generations. But I can see why.” Hilde said. “I wouldn't want to move from here into a modern concrete box either.”

“Most definably not,” he confirmed. “This place has everything I need. But I don't think I have introduced myself yet. How rude of me. It's my name is Khushrenada, Treize Khushrenada.”

“You are on vacation?” the tawny-haired man asked after they shook hands and his guests had introduced themselves as well.

“We are.” Sylvia confined. “He isn't.” She gestured at Milliardo. “We are not traveling together; at least it didn't start out that way. Our car too broke down several miles from here. Luckily Milliardo came by and offered us a ride. Otherwise we would still be sitting on the side of the road.”

“Ah, the knight in shining armor. “Treize gave the younger man a tiny smirk. “I didn't know they still exist these days.”

Milliardo frowned slightly. Did he detect a hint of sarcasm in the other man's voice?

“In any case, you must be exhausted... Trowa?!”

“Yes sir!”

Milliardo's head snapped around. A handsome young man with olive skin and brown hair stood at the top of the stairs. He was clad in a pair of black slacks and a partially unbuttoned, black shirt that accentuated his perfect physic. Part of his face and one eye were hidden beneath long, bangs.

“We are having guests. They will be spending the night.” their host explained. “Please prepare some rooms for them.”

The brunet young man nodded in acknowledgement. “Yes, Sir. Anything else?”

Treize turned toward his guests. “Are you hungry? Can I get you something to eat?”

The girls as well as Milliardo assured him that they had eaten earlier and were fine.

“In that case, have Quatre bring us a carafe of red wine; we will be in the sitting room.”

“Understood.”

“This way please.” Treize once again led the way, leading them into a large, exquisitely furnished room. A fire was burning in the fireplace, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. He gestured for his guests to have a seat “Please, make yourselves comfortable, your rooms should be ready soon.”

In front of the fireplace stood two deep-red velvet loveseats, facing each other, with a low couch table between them. The two young women chose the couch on the left, while Milliardo and their host settled down in the other. Treize shifted to face the younger man, draped one leg over the other and interlaced his fingers in front of his stomach.

“So,” he asked. “Since you are not here on vacation, what exactly did bring you to a remote place like Victoriaville... if you don't mind me asking?”

“Not at all. I'm on an assignment from my newspaper.”

“Ah, I see; a reporter. How interesting.”

“Yes, but only for a very small, family owned newspaper. They want me to write a story for the Halloween edition.”

“About the vampires.” Hilde explained with a little grin.

“Vampires?!” the tawny-haired man echoed, and Milliardo could have sworn he detected a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Well yeah,” he shrugged. “Urban legends… unexplained phenomenon…ghost stories...people love to read about that kind of stuff, especially around Halloween”

Treize nodded, but before he could say anything there was a knock and then the beveled glass doors opened and another young man stepped into the room. His golden-blond hair was tousled, and he was carrying a tray with four glasses and a carafe with a dark-red liquid.

“Your wine, sir.” he declared as he walked to the table and set down the tray. “Would you like me to pour it?”

“Yes, please,” the tawny-haired man answered with a nod.

The young man filled all four of the finely cut crystal glasses and offered the first two to the ladies. Hilde accepted the wine, with a polite nod, but her friend shook her head “Thanks, but no. I really don't drink.”

After serving Milliardo and Treize as well the blond young man retreated and closed the doors behind himself without another word.

“Come to think of it... Since you family has been living here for a long time, I'm sure you have heard many stories about those mysterious deaths, haven't you?” Hilde looked at their host with eager anticipation.

The tawny haired man took a sip from his wine before giving her a polite smile. “I'm afraid my family never cared much for gossiping. One of the reasons why my ancestors built the estate here and not closer to town is that we prefer to have our privacy. In other words, we don't stick our noses in other people's business, and we expect the same courtesy in return.”

“That's too bad.” Milliardo replied. “I suppose that means it's no use asking you for an interview then.”

“I'm afraid not.” Treize gave a little shrug of regret. “I'm sorry I can't be of more help, but from what little I know those `mysterious deaths' visitors like to talk about, have been nothing but tragic accidents.”

“It's not only visitors that call them `mysterious'.” Hilde insisted.

“Of course not.” Their host laughed and took another sip from his glass. “Half of the people in town make their living from tourism these days. Admitting that there is nothing `mysterious' going on here would be like killing your own business, wouldn't it.”

It makes sense, Milliardo admitted. Of course he fully agreed with the older man. There were enough people out there who believed in crazy things like ghosts, vampires and UFOs. And as long as such people excited, there would be others taking advantage of it. Like journalists who make money by spreading those stories, he thought with a touch of sarcasm.

Hilde on the other hand didn't look like she was convinced by Treize's words. But she didn't seem inclined to argue with the man. As she set her half-empty wine glass down on the table she tried to stifle a yawn. “I'm sorry. I'm so tired all of a sudden. Not to be rude, but do you think our room is ready?”

“Oh, I'm sure it is. Let me call someone to show you upstairs. If you would excuse me…” He rose, walked to the door and left only to return a few moments later with the blond young man who had served them the wine earlier.

“This is Quatre,” the tawny haired man introduced. “He is one of my…caretakers. He will take you to your rooms, ladies. If there is anything you need let him know and he will take care of it, won't you Quatre?”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Thank you. We really appreciate your hospitality,” Sylvia said as she and her friend got to their feet. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

The two young woman followed Quatre, and Milliardo was about to rise as well. “I should probably go to bed too. It's been a long day.”

“Oh really?” The older man sounded disappointed. “I was hoping we could sit a little longer and chat. As I mentioned earlier, we don't see many guest here, especially not such interesting ones. Besides…” He gestured at the glass in Milliardo's hand. “You haven't even touched your wine yet.”

“I'm sorry; I guess I'm not much of a wine drinker.”

“Perhaps you just haven't tasted the right wine yet. This is a great vintage, very smooth and very fruity. I had it imported from Spain.”

Milliardo took a cautious sip from his glass and nodded approvingly. “It really is good. A little strong though.”

“Is it, really?”

“Yes, but probably just because I'm not used to it.” The young man took another, bigger, sip. He wasn't lying when he said that he wasn't much of a wine drinker. He preferred a good beer and occasionally a glass of whisky on the rocks.

“How long are you planning on staying in town?” his host wanted to know.

“Just a few days. I hope to have everything wrapped up by Thursday and leave Friday morning... if I can get my car repaired by then that is.”

“Oh yes, your car.” Treize nodded thoughtfully then looked up and suddenly asked. “Do you believe in coincidence?”

“Coincidence?!”

“Well, I mean... two broken down cars, three travelers who might have never met otherwise, a house just in walking distance... doesn't that sound like a series of strange coincidence?”,

“I suppose it does.” Milliardo admitted, as he continued to sip the sweet wine.

“Or perhaps you believe in fate?!”

“Excuse me?” The young man could feel heat creeping into his cheeks. He tried to tell himself that it was from the alcohol not the suggestiveness in Treize's voice. He noticed only now that the older man had slowly moved closer and now was sitting almost directly next to him.

“Do you believe it was fate that brought you here tonight?” The deep, soft voice almost turned into a purr.

Suddenly his vision became blurred and fuzzy. Milliardo shook his head to clear his mind. As he tried to rise to feet he was suddenly overcome by a wave of fatigue. The nearly empty wine glass slipped from his fingers and shattered on the ground.

Treize was on his feet and by his side in one quick, fluid motion. “Oh my, the wine really was a little strong it seems.”

“I'm sorry,” the younger man slurred.

“Don't worry about it. Let me take you to your room.”

Milliardo somehow managed to nod. He could feel a strong arm around his waist steadying him, just before his mind dipped into oblivion.

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T.B.C.

 

Author's Note: