Title: Theodore Pike: Blood Ties

Author: /NocturnalPoetry (One author with two names)

Author’s website: www. RiddleSphere .com

Parts: 20 and a prologue and epilogue

Status: Completed and posted in parts.

Update: A new chapter will be posted every Tuesday – drop your e-mail to me if wanting to be informed when a new chapter is online.

Ratings: PG-13

Disclaimer: This story was written by /NocturnalPoetry, based on an original idea and with original characters created by /NocturnalPoetry. Any use of this story, its characters, situations or other parts of the story without proper permission is an infringement of /NocturnalPoetry 's copyright. This story may not be posted or used elsewhere without the expressed permission by the author.

Summary: A society resides beneath London, one that pre-dates the city it shelters below and is unknown to the people above – the Asylaum. Governed by its Council of Lords, the Asylaum is home to hundreds of Brethren. Theodore Pike is about to have his loyalty tested towards this society, which has sheltered him for over 300 years.

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Theodore Pike: Blood Ties

Chapter one

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“Theodore Pike. Come forward,” a black-haired underling requests. “The Council is now prepared for your appointment.”

I do not recall having made an appointment. I do however recall a certain Official in black in front of my porch about an hour ago, ordering me to report to the Council immediately. This must be the modern definition of ‘an appoinment’ – forced into a hearing for having defended oneself after being attacked by a vicious blood-crier and then be accused for murder of a fellow vampire. Of course, that last part has not yet occurred, but knowing the Council and my history with them, I find this verdict likely.

I follow the underling through the halls of the Asylaum and into a big circular chamber decorated with seven thrones placed in a half-circle with the Asylaum emblem placed on the farther wall.

“The Council shall be with you shortly,” the underling tells me before leaving the chamber and locking the door behind me.

I hate this chamber. I have been here one too many times – and from every visit I have gained nothing but a bad memory. Though I know many vampires consider it an honour to be in the presence of the Council, I have swiftly learned that when it comes to me, it is an honour that will cost me dearly.

Despite the fact that my memories of this place are nothing but bad, I cannot help myself from being overwhelmed by the sheer magnificance of this structure. Not only does it stretch under vast areas of London, but it is an amazing network of tunnels, halls and chambers that is the home of hundreds of vampires. Of course, a few hundred might not sound too impressing when compared to the humans with their billions of residents in this world. But, if taking into account that we are dependent on human blood to survive, few humans would inhabit this world if our numbers exceeded a couple of hundred. It is all a matter of supply and demand – we need their blood to live, regretfully they need their blood to live too. Thusly we must keep them alive to keep us alive – and the best way to keep them alive is by letting them live without the knowledge of our existence. Human arrogance would not allow the existence of any superior beings. They would try to extinct us. Since we prefer living un-extinct we are better off with them not knowing.

This chamber gives me the creeps. Its chill would send a paralysing shiver down any human’s spine. I may not be a human, but despite my three centuries of life I cannot stand unaffected by its cold. It is as if the past of all dead vampires haunts this very chamber, forcing itself into every living part of my body. It could be a trick by the Council, trying to manipulate their visitors into submission, or perhaps an ancient curse placed on this chamber – as ancient as the Asylaum itself. It matters not, for I have gotten through this before and shall do so once more.

The wall behind the center throne is rumbling and seperating itself brick by brick until it has revealed a doorway. Silent, and cold as shadows, the seven Lords enter the chamber through the doorway and take their seats before me. This is indeed going to be a long night.

“Theodore Pike,” the centered Lord says. “You stand before us due to some worrying news that has reached us. As you know the Council is ancient, as ancient as this very chamber you stand in. As such there is little, if not nothing, that passes it by. It knows everything, we know everything.”

There is a slight case of hybris in his preaching, but like every living vampire I have learned both to respect and even fear the Council when necessary. Therefore I say nothing. In fact, I do not even think. It is common knowledge that during the millenias of the Council’s existence there has always been at least three Readers as members of the Council, and since at least one of them is still a sitting Lord, it would be highly unwise to think something even remotely insulting about them.

“It is due to this,” the Lord continues, “that we have learned of this event. It worries us that your name has come up once more in a situation like this.”

The Lord addressing me is none other than Lord Amaddeuas, one of the oldest vampires in our society, and thusly one of the most feared and respected. He is in good company – on his right side sits Lord Dunstan, a vampire who pre-dates the fall of Western Rome. Records stashed in the Asylaum Archives hold a bit more information about some of the other members, but overall little is known about the Lords and the Council. What we do know is that they are old and like every vampire; age brings wisdom and strength. But most importantly – it brings power.

If there is something in our existence that makes us similiar to humans it would have to be the constant quest for power. Like our weaker cousins, we long to be superior to each other, even our own flesh and blood. Though few of us manage to become so, our Council consists only of the elite – the Lords, vampires that have lived for at least five hundred years and thusly achieved great power and experience, making lesser Brethren fear them.

Lord Amaddeuas is the oldest members of the Council. This is not entirely confirmed by the Archives, but I can feel his will pierce into my very mind and could he easily make me crumple before him. No other vampire can affect me like that, not even the other Lords.

“We understand that you recently had an encounter with a newly reborn. Is this correct?” Lord Amaddeuas asks.

“That is correct.”

“We also understand that this Reborn was something out of the ordinary. Correct?”

“Indeed, my Lord.”

His voice is cold and proper as he speaks. It makes me think that he somehow is connected to the cold that recides in this chamber.

“Now, would you please be so kind and explain to us how it is that this rare specimen of a Reborn is not currently being investigated by our scientists, but is instead spread with the wind over what I would guess to be the majority of London?” he demands.

I somehow think that this is a trick question, but at the moment I fail to see the amusement in the situation and bow my head in respect for him and the other Lords.

“Forgive, my Lord. I had no choice.”

“That’s not the story we heard,” he states. “We heard that even though the Reborn possessed abilities above that which of a common Brethren he was still no match for an Elder such as yourself.”

I am flattered but I know this is not a good night to be named Theodore Pike. They mistake my silence for a lack of an answer. I have an answer – they just would not like it. Instead, they jump straight to the traditional spanking of the hand.

“Due to this great insult, not only to the Council, but to the entire Asylaum, the Council has agreed upon a suitable punishment that will be in the best of all our interests,” Lord Amaddeaus informs.

Somehow I doubt that I am a part of their definition of ‘our interests’. I stand with my head still bowed in respect, while a brace myself for my punishment.

“Normally, as you’re probably aware of, the punishment for slaying of a fellow Brethren is execution by stake, according to the Guidance. However, since the Reborn at hand was not reported to us as a new Brethren until after his death, and since his Sire, whomever it may have been, does not exist in our Archives, we are willing to make an exception,” Lord Amaddeaus says with a serious tone.

He is basically saying is that even though the kid I slew was not an official vampire and therefore not protected by our laws I shall still have to pay a price for having slayed their potential lab rat.

“The Council have agreed,” he continues before adding a dramatic pause that would have made me laugh had it been delivered by any other than him, “that since you, Elder Theodore Pike, have served as a honourable member of our society for almost three centuries and have proven your worth with deeds of great valor in the past, will be granted a pardon from execution.”

I would have sighed in relief had I not sensed that he was not yet finished with his speech.

“Instead, we have agreed that you shall be assigned the honour to hunt down the source of this abnormality,” he informs.

Now he is finished. I cannot believe it. I take care of an obvious problem and not only do they tell me that I did wrong, but they order me to clean up a mess that was probably their’s to begin with.

“But—” I attempt, trying to keep calm in front the most powerful vampire in modern days.

“This is our verdict,” Lord Amaddeaus states. “Go now, and return only when you bring news about the source of this abnormality.”

I clench my fist and grit my teeth at this order. The Lord can clearly see my aggravation but seems not to gloat in it.

“Is this clear, Elder Pike?” he adds.

I am tempted to give him a look that makes it perfectly clear to him what I currently think of him and the Council. I do not. Foolishness is seldom rewarded around here.

“Yes, my lord,” I confirm, hiding most of the despise in my voice, I hope.

There is little point in fooling myself. The Council is well aware of my mood. I should consider myself lucky that they have chosen not to make me pay for my disrespect. I hate this place. They have everyone whipped with the constant threat of execution if disobeying laws written down on a blasted scroll. Of course, it is that very scroll that has kept the Asylaum intact for this long and it is probably what will keep it together for the next millenia. Without the Guidance, the world would be crawling with murdering vampires and slaughtered humans. We vampires must be kept in line, or our inner monsters would consume us – or so we are told. I have heard those tales for so long that I must admit myself coming to doubt them.

“That will be all,” Lord Amaddeaus finishes.

That is my cue. Time to leave the Lords to whatever business they intend. I leave the chamber with a respectful bow. I head out the doorway to the corridor and turn around to close the door behind me. It closes by itself as if an unknown force had shut it closed. Creepy. I always forget that.

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“So, how did it go?”

The black-haired underling is sitting at his post behind a desk outside the chamber. He is clearly gloating in my misfortune. The professionality that he greeted me with when I arrived is gone with the wind – just as the remains what could have aided me on my recent given quest.

“Mind your own bloody business,” I mutter.

“That well?” he chuckles.

“Sod off,” I sigh.

“Let’s not be like that,” he mocks. “I’d hate having to report you to the Council again.”

It is not until now that I recognize the smug underling sitting before me with a pleased grin.

“You!” I growl.

“What about me?” he asks defiantly.

“I saw you at the bar. You followed us!”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” he says with a giggling shrug.

I stare at him for a second, only to make sure that I will remember his face when the time is right. Then I leave the corridor and head for the Great Hall.

“What, no empty threats of great horrors and pain?” he shouts after me. “I thought that’s what you guys did!”

I slam the corridor door shut behind me. I shall have to leave him to his gloating at the moment. My grievance with the Council would only be made worse if I happened to slip and accidentally stake their secretary, though the thought is awfully tempting.

The Great Hall is the most stunning part of the Asylaum, if you ask me. It reminds me of a ballroom with its shiny black and white tiles on the floor, silver statues decorating the ceiling and art from every century of time hanging in golden frames on the walls. It is truly a work of art. I always was a sucker for extravagance.

When I enter the Great Hall I spot a familiar face in the midst of stressed Brethren – Jackston.

“I came as soon as I heard,” he assures as he moves up to me.

“Things do get around rather fast around here, don’t they?” I say ironically.

“If I had only known earlier—” he begins.

“There would have been nothing for you to do,” I finish his sentence, “unless you’ve magically surpassed the Council in both age and power, which I highly doubt, considering the state of you. You look awful. Go back to bed.”

He really does look awful. His eyes are red and his clothes look as if he slept in them. It is obvious that he did rush here as soon as he heard about my ‘appointment’.

“But—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off again. “Here, I’ll walk you home.”

We walk in silence once more. Jackston is struggling to keep himself awake. He is not the only one who is tired. I feel as if I could sleep for a decade after this night. I must have spent at least an hour and a half inside that chamber. It is strange though, when I entered the chamber I could have sworn that the time was about 4 a.m, but when I left it the time was only about ten minutes later. Odd – but I give it little more thought. I am too tired to think.

When we reach Jackston’s manor he turns to me and sighs. He stretches his arms out and yawns before giving me a serious look.

“What are you going to do?” he asks.

“What else is there to do but follow their orders, as always,” I reply. “But, at the moment I intend to do nothing but have good day’s sleep. Good day, Jackston. Sleep tight. I’ll see you in the evening.”

I leave him before he can say anything else – might as well save him the trouble. There is nothing to say, but a lot to do. I look at the time, it is late – I better hurry or the Council will be the least of my problems.

To be continued.