The Human Stain

I groan and rub my cheek trying to ease the pain of the slap that I just received. Turns out I’m not as good at staying out of Master Grievence’s way as I thought I was. I got lost in my thoughts while I was polishing the silver and well I didn’t notice him come in. The next thing I know I’m splayed out on the ground with my head spinning and seeing stars floating in front of my eyes. I sit up quickly and clamber clumsily to my feet--the blood rushing to my head even more now--I really don’t want another one of the Grievence’s to catch me being “idle”.

The silver is scattered about the ground like a metallic pathway and I bent down and begin to collect them. Guess I’ll have to start from the beginning again. Sometimes I wonder what the world would be like if it wasn’t ruled by vampires. Would I be free? Would I have a family that loved me? Would I be able to love and live with who I loved rather than what someone else dictated for me? I guess I’ll never know. I’m not even supposed to have thoughts anyway.

I begin the menial task of polishing once again and pray to whatever God is out there that something will change for me. That I’ll be able to live my own life someday. I don’t even believe in God but these last few years I’ve been getting even more desperate for at least something to hold onto. I’m almost eighteen the age when all humans are paired up with their breeding partner. I have one more month. I don’t want that for my life. Honestly I would rather kill myself than lie with someone I have no feelings for. I have a feeling I won’t though; I’m too much of a coward. Sometimes I hate myself.

I actually make a conscience effort to not let my mind drift again while I polish the rest of the silver and do all the rest of my daily tasks around the manor. I try to avoid for the rest of the day, both the Master and the servants, but of course hiding is sadly not one of my specialties.

“Hey Gerard!” I hear Jeremiah yell and I stop dead in my tracks. Jeremiah. He’s Master Grievence’s first born son who has loved to torture me ever since I arrived in the house. He does have other targets— mostly sexually harassing the female servants— but he enjoys picking on me the most I‘m afraid. He’s rather disgusting.

“Yes Master Jeremiah?” I reply timidly turning around making sure to keep my eyes downcast. You never make direct eye contact with a vampire without permission. Never.

“Well it appears that Cynthia is out for the day and well I have nothing to do. Do you know what the problem with that is?” He asks rather menacingly, “Well do you?”

“No Master Jeremiah.”

“Hmmm,” He purrs thoughtfully, “Too bad.”

Suddenly Jeremiah grabs me and throws me to the ground and I wince as my back contacts the compact earth, the gardener is going to want to strangle me more than usual it seems. I squeeze my eyes shut tight as he begins to wail on me throwing punch after punch, slap after slap, and kick after kick. I do not know how long this goes on, nor do I care; I’m used to it at this point. Soon red begins to creep on the edges of my vision and I begin to feel my mind shut itself down, so it does not have to deal with the pain. But, like usual, Jeremiah stops before I can feel the relief of the blackness. He spits on me and leaves without a word. I’m just another one of his toys. It’s better me than him taking it out on one of the girls.

For what seems like the umpteenth time today I groan sit up. That seems to be all I do these days, but I have to get back to work no matter how horrible I feel. I am a machine, or at least I like to think I am. That all I am is an endless perfect mechanism of gears and clockwork. Always ticking, never stopping, never hurting.

Rushing back inside the manor foyer I see how the beginning of the party set up is beginning. I think the Grievence’s are actually hosting the first party of the season, which is a great honor. I would be impressed if I didn’t hate the whole ordeal. Especially since my main job during the season is a waiter to the socialite hordes. I serve them food, blood, and any other things they may require. It’s nerve-wracking. One wrong move and I could be killed instantly.

The worst part is feeling the eyes of the older male vampires in the room. The vampires are the ones who missed finding their mate when they made their debut and are not looking to capitalize sexually with anyone they can find. It’s not unheard of to take humans and use them as your sex slaves. I have to constantly make sure I’m never alone with those cretins. The most likely scenario is that my Master would sell me to them though. I want to hurl just at the thought of being taken by one of those slimy perverts.

I quickly help Bernard, another one of the servants, balance on the ladder as he hangs streamers from the vaulted ceiling. The Season is always our busiest time. Most of the time us servants are up through the whole night and the next day preparing the household for guests, sewing and tailoring gowns and suits, washing old gowns and suits, preparing the food, preparing the grounds. It’s all about preparation. Preparing to slip on a mask of indifference. Preparing to want to tear the skin off my bones to stop the stares. Preparing to grit my teeth and shut my eyes against the glares. Prepare, prepare, prepare.

Notes

I would like to thank my wonderful Beta Blood-Splatter Killjoy for helping me out with this. She's a lifesaver!
-T.K.