The Revenants: Part One (complete)

Christabel wakes the same way she has every morning since she was a child, rising as one of the maids comes into her room and opens the curtains. As the sun falls on her eyes, she takes her choker from the bedside table. All humans have a choker; it marks them as belonging, as loved and guarded. A human with no choker is one who is lost or cast aside in the world. In Salem, all humans are marked this way, the pets and the strays.

As she slips the fine lace around her throat, the maid pours a glass of cold water and drops in a single drop of dark red medicine. It has been this way ever since Christabel’s first blood. The medicine is to help her with her headaches and miseries. Her guardian, Lord Andrew, has made sure she is well cared for and pampered. With him being a witch, and a high-ranking one, Christabel is one of the more pampered pets in Salem. Ever since the death of her mother, Andrew has cared for her like one of his own - although Christabel has long grown tired of and uneasy with his affections. She has known for quite some time that they are not genuine, and that he is expecting payment very soon. She keeps up the act of headaches, pains, and woes so his hands remain still.

After taking her medicine, Christabel goes to the vanity, where she takes her hair down from its braids. The maid, Marleygrin, busies herself cleaning up. Her calico complexion, milky white eyes, and pitch-black fingernails show how her mother had once lain with a creature of the woods. She is one of Andrew’s confidants, and Christabel has learned not to trust her. She cleans to find things and report them to Andrew, and she lingers in the morning to make sure Christabel does not disobey the order to join Andrew for breakfast. 

Christabel brushes out her hair, watching Marleygrin in the mirror as she searches the pockets of Christabel’s skirts. She will find nothing, and if she does find anything, Christabel means for it to be found. Andrew insists that humans should be protected, especially from themselves. Humans do not know what is best, and that is why they are kept as pets by the witches. Christabel hates this train of thought, but she keeps her secrets close to her chest.

As Christabel finishes pinning up her hair, Marleygrin has her clothes ready for her. She dresses in black, like always, the only color coming from the red gemstones on the locket of her choker. Dressing in black is one of the few things Christabel does not mind. Andrew says she is not allowed to wear colors or prints until she is wed, and Christabel knows that means ‘wed to Andrew’.

Christabel goes downstairs to where Andrew is having breakfast in the parlor, as he does every morning. She hesitates on the stairs, preparing herself for the same morning ritual that Andrew puts her through every day. She has long grown out of her childhood adoration of him. Nowadays, her discomfort and disgust reign.

Andrew Penvellyn is one of the grand-nephews to the High Priestess, leader of Salem. As such, he is powerful, a leader almost like royalty. He has been Christabel’s guardian ever since her mother passed away, and Andrew has always claimed it was her mother’s last wish that he raise Christabel as his own. Christabel thinks his head is filled with fairy tales, and he only sees what he wants to see. He can never see Christabel’s discomfort; he only sees her as his. 

“There she is, my morning sun! The day just doesn’t begin until you come down to me, my precious.” Andrew stands to pull out Christabel’s chair. As she sits, he sniffs her hair, moaning deeply at her scent.

Christabel hangs her head, hoping to escape his nostrils and the sounds coming from his throat. “I am merely here, dear guardian,” she replies to him. She glances aside to see Marleygrin whispering into Andrew’s ear before she pours the tea.

Andrew removes his eyes from Marleygrin and turns to Christabel, focusing his gaze on her for a long moment before he smiles. “Yes, but you are here for me.” He lays his hand over his chest, his massive signet ring glimmering in the candlelight. “Did you have good dreams, my precious?”

“I do not recall, my guardian.” Christabel reaches for the honey. “I have told you I do not dream, and if I do, they do not let me remember.”

“Such a shame,” Andrew sighs. “One would think, at your ripe age, your mind would be full of all sorts of… dreams.” His bright blue eyes dart over Christabel in a suggestive fashion. He only says this because his dreams are often quite vivid - either of Christabel, or of her dead mother, at the mercy of his desires. He wants Christabel to have the same thoughts and dreams as he does, only about him.

“I do not mind it,” Christabel says as she drips honey into her tea. “It allows me to sleep without distraction. I can rest completely.”

“It explains why you are so beautiful and unblemished.” Andrew reaches out, touching his knuckles against Christabel’s cheek.

Christabel does her best not to flinch away, but she jerks her head aside and glances at him. “I believe it is more than sleep at work.” She looks back down at her tea, taking a slow sip as Andrew continues to stare at her.

“Is it your time, my precious?” he asks gently. “You seem untoward.”

Grimacing, Christabel sets her cup down. “Just because I may be out of sorts does not mean I am on my blood, my guardian. It can mean a multitude of things. Maybe I slept wrong. Perhaps something is walking on my grave.” She then cuts her dark eyes across the room to Marleygrin. “There could be someone spying on me.”

“Is there something troubling you, my precious?” Andrew asks. 

Christabel shakes her head. “No. I am fine,” she lies gracefully. 

Andrew tilts his head to the side, and begins to drum his fingers against the table. Christabel sucks in a breath as her body tenses at the sound. 

“Perhaps it has been too long since you had an examination.” His fingers continue to rap against the table, and Christabel’s stomach turns into knots. “Your well-being is my main concern, and poor humans have no idea how to properly tend to themselves. It’s my job to watch over you and make sure you’re in good health.”

Christabel turns to him and places her fingers on the locket of her choker. “Please, my guardian,” she gasps with a plastered-on smile. “I assure you, I am well! If there was anything wrong, I would confess to you right away.”

Andrew’s fingers continue to strike against the tabletop. “The Celebration of Trials is coming up soon,” he murmurs. “It is important to me that when you stand by my side at the festival, you are the pride of all, not just me.”

“Yes! I know,” Christabel gasps. “That is why-” she stops as his fingers still. Her dark eyes lock with his bright ones. She drops her hand and nods her head. “Yes, my guardian. If you so wish it.” 

“We’ll go to my study,” Andrew stands. “We will be in private there.”

Christabel stands from the table, walking with Andrew close behind her. His study is at the far end of the house, a windowless room where he sees patients and friends alike. He is a healer, although Christabel has often wondered what a healer so greedy for money is capable of. When they enter the room, she takes up her usual position facing the bookshelf. Her eyes focus on the spines of the books, reading each one in order.

As Andrew closes the door behind himself, he locks it and tucks the key into his pocket. He stands behind Christabel and makes her remove her clothes. All the while, Christabel’s eyes focus on the spines of the books. As Andrew examines her, she keeps reading the titles, over and over. 

“History of Planets. Runes from the Othersides. Churches in Houses. Flies Beyond Glass. Rubies in Empire. Demons That Hide.” 

Andrew’s hands feel dry, and his long nails scrape across her skin. Christabel pushes back against him when he gropes her breast a bit too hard.

“Are you tender, my precious?” he asks innocently.

“Your grip is too strong,” Christabel huffs. “Anyone would be tender.”

Andrew retaliates, groping her rear so hard his sharp nails dig into her hip. “I remember examining your mother,” he says, “back when she was your age.” He chuckles softly. “She was tender as well.”

Christabel takes a step away from him. “How am I?” she asks. “Am I healthy?”

Andrew watches her as she pulls her clothes up to her chest. “How are your headaches?” He tilts his head. “Are they getting any better?”

“For the time being,” Christabel murmurs as she buttons up her blouse. 

Andrew licks his lips, then lets a smile blossom on his face. “Perhaps you need a day out,” he says. “Get a walk, some fresh air. You stay cooped up here, and I suppose that would get to anyone.” He opens his desk and takes out some money, which he offers to Christabel. 

“Take Marleygrin,” he coaxes. “Go buy yourself something nice.”

Christabel takes the money cautiously. “Thank you. But I would rather go alone, if that is possible. You know I do not care for Marleygrin.”

“You are a human,” Andrew whispers. He stands close to Christabel and brushes his knuckles over her cheek again. “I don’t want any harm to come to you.”

“Everyone knows you are my guardian. They wouldn’t dare harm me.” Christabel steps closer to him, her blouse not fully buttoned and her soft, small breasts still exposed. She doesn’t like it, but she knows how to get what she wants.

Andrew’s eyes linger on her chest, and his fingers brush against her exposed neck and along her clavicle. “I still worry, my precious. What if there was a stray out there and they took advantage?”

“It would make me so happy if I could be alone, even for a moment. It will make me miss you,” she says with a pout.

That would be enough to power all the dreams Andrew would have for weeks. “Just be careful,” he says, in a voice heavy with desire.

“I will, thank you!” Christabel gushes as Andrew takes the key and unlocks the door. Once outside, she finishes buttoning herself up. She knows she is playing with a fire, and eventually she will have to burn herself to get her way. But for the time being it is worth it.

She leaves the house, steps out onto the street and glances back, seeing Andrew wave to her from inside. Christabel waves in return, then makes her way down the street. She takes her first real breath, and relaxes.

She goes to the market first, just to buy something and prove she has been there. As she mingles with the crowd and buys herself a ring, she sees a young man lingering around the buildings, watching her with his dark brown eyes. Christabel feels a bit excited; he is very handsome. As she walks away, he follows, eventually walking beside her on the street.

“Such a fancy thing,” he says. “Who let you out on your own?”

Christabel glances at him, biting her cheek as her eyes sweep over his strong jawline, his thick neck. “You must be new here.”

“I go where I please,” he chuckles. “Although the witches here seem much more averse to me than the ones in other cities I have been.”

Christabel notices the scar around his neck where a choker should be. “You’re a stray.”

The young man chuckles. “A pretty pet like you probably shouldn’t be seen with a stray like me. But I had to know how your voice sounded. I needed to know there was a flaw about you that would make you imperfect.”

Christabel’s heart is fluttering and her stomach is turning to liquid. “And is it as terrible as you had hoped?”

“Worse,” he growls, “it’s just as beautiful as the rest of you.”

Christabel smiles at him. “You’re dangerous.”

“I try to be.” He then offers his strong hand to her. “I’m Moses.”

Christabel happily places her hand in his, enjoying the feeling of his rough palm. “Christabel,” she gives her name with a smile. 

“Of course. The pretty kitten has a fitting name,” Moses sighs. 

She giggles, and her cheeks blossom a soft pink. Moses has found her at the best of times. She is angry with Andrew, disgusted by his touch. Moses looks like the perfect person to make her forget that morning. His smile is charming, his skin is like dark amber, and his brown eyes make her feel warm and excited.

There is a secret Christabel keeps, a place she goes to when she can escape Andrew and his home - the home of Harper, the former executioner. Harper, despite his previous work, is a kind and gentle man, and one of the few who doesn’t fear Andrew and his power. He offers a place of comfort for Christabel and she pays him back in various ways. She takes Moses to Harper’s place, where he is allowed a bath and a warm meal.

“You are playing too closely to the fire, Chrissie,” Harper tells her. “It is one thing to use me, but to play with a stray?”

“Are you jealous, Harper?” Christabel asks.

Harper frowns. His face is young, but his hair is pure white. “You know that is not what I mean.”

Christabel pulls the tall man down towards her, kissing him and biting his lip. Harper leans into her, wrapping his hands around her waist.

“I am angry today,” Christabel snarls. “I am frustrated and I am hateful. I need to get his hands off me, even for a moment. Let me play, and then you can play.” She smiles up at him. “You can watch Moses and I, if you’d like.”

“You’re a horrible girl,” Harper moans into her ear. “If Andrew knew what you did-”

“He would jerk off to it,” Christabel scoffs. “He is probably pleasuring himself now to the thought of me! His cock was hard when I left.” She looks up in Harper’s pale eyes. “Although sometimes it’s hard to tell.” She lifts her pinky into the air. “Unlike you.” She cups the front of his pants. “It’s very obvious.”

Harper steps away from her. “Go play with your stray,” he snarls. “Then go home.”

“I hate it there,” Christabel says through clenched teeth. “I hate him. I hate myself.” She looks up at Harper with tears in her eyes. “I pray every night that something will come and ruin it all.”

Harper kisses her, slipping his fingers under her chin. “My poor Chrissie,” he whispers. “Maybe one day, your wishes will come true.”

Christabel pulls him back down for another kiss. She knows she needs Harper, but she doesn’t love him. She knows she will never love anyone, not even the stray waiting for her in Harper’s bed, where she will take her customary vengeance against Andrew.

Christabel has done it often with Harper, and now she will do it with Moses. She will allow him inside her, letting him slip into the tight rosebud of her ass, aided with oils that make the experience pleasurable. She touches herself while the young man moves inside her. Andrew can’t touch her, but this stray can, and the disgraced executioner can as well. Her body seizes and twitches as Moses’ body rocks her. He feels warm and powerful inside her. He feels like a man. 

All Christabel’s life, Andrew has felt like a curse. It is a great taboo to take a pet away from a witch. Humans had died because of it, and witches were hanged for a kiss. It is the biggest insult to defile the pet of a powerful witch, and Christabel relishes it. Moses is a feral cat, looking to rut and then leave her alone. Harper is timid and will follow any command, and she can do anything she wants to him.

Christabel makes sure to drink Moses’ seed, another slight against Andrew. Moses tastes bitter, but she takes him on her tongue anyway. She feels rejuvenated, and her hatred seems distant for the moment as she rests on top of Moses’ hard, hairy body.

“Will I see you again, kitten?” Moses chuckles.

Christabel sits up. “Would you want to?”

Moses smirks. “It would be a shame. I fucking hate witches,” he whispers. “So taking a pet is always fun. But you are different somehow.”

Christabel chuckles as she gets up and dresses. “Only because I let you so easily.” She looks down at him in bed. “Stay with Harper for a while and see what happens.” She leaves, heading back home to where Andrew is waiting for her.

“What did you buy? Let me see.” Andrew takes her hand, examining the ring on her finger.

Christabel is smiling and pleasant, relishing the fact that her body is freshly used and has the seed of another man in its belly. “Isn’t it lovely?” she says with a chuckle. “I thought it was far too pretty to pass up, and you know how I adore onyx.”

Andrew dips down, kissing her cheek. His lips then move over hers, and Christabel allows it, but only because she feels so good. Andrew’s tongue slips into her mouth, and he pulls down her blouse to kiss her neck and shoulder.

“Careful,” Christabel warns.

“Yes, forgive me,” Andrew moans as he pulls away. “It is a lovely ring.” He licks his lips. “It makes your hand look very dainty.”

Christabel steps away from him. “I would like to rest before supper,” she says.

Andrew nods. “Of course. I’ll send Marleygrin to wake you later.”

Christabel goes upstairs to her chambers, where she closes the door behind her. She quickly removes her clothes and stands naked before her full length mirror. She touches her body, remembering how Moses’ hands felt on her skin. She slips her fingers down, touching herself where she is still warm and wet. 

She lays down in bed, letting herself melt into the cool sheets. Closing her eyes, Christabel waits for the darkness of sleep to embrace her and wrap around her tightly.

But as she slips into slumber, she sees a face in the darkness.

The neck beneath the face is long and stretched, and the head hangs at an odd angle. Beneath the head and the neck, the figure’s shoulders are slouched, their gut is swollen, and their fingers are tipped with long, black nails. All around them is billowing smoke and ash. 

“One by one,” the figure whispers. They place a finger on their black lips. “One by one, they’ll all be gone until three are given freely.”

Christabel watches, frozen in sleep.

“The blood, the lamb, and the finger,” the figure breathes. They come closer to Christabel, their dark hands reaching out to her. Their fingers slip around her neck, touching the lace of her choker, before grasping the locket and pushing it into her throat.

Christabel wakes in a cold fright. Outside her window, she can hear screaming. Jumping up and throwing open the window, she sees the sky is black. The street fronting the house is smeared with blood.

“The revenant returns!” she hears a woman scream. “The revenant! The revenant!”

Christabel’s door swings open, and Andrew storms into her room. He forces her away from the window and clutches her tight in his arms. 

“What’s going on?” Christabel gasps. “What’s the revenant?”

Andrew grips her tightly, breathing in deeply. “It is nothing you have to worry about, my love. I will protect you.”

Christabel shivers, remembering the dark image from her dream. She ducks her head down on Andrew’s chest, trying to push the vision from her memory. Outside, she can hear more screaming. Eventually, people begin banging on the front door.

“I have to go,” Andrew says. “Stay in here. Keep that window shut! Keep the curtains drawn. No matter what you hear, do not look out and do not open the window again.” He stands, firmly shutting the window before leaving, and closes her door behind him.

Christabel gets up and goes to the window anyway. The blood in the street makes it look as if someone was dragged down its entire length. The air is filled with ash and smoke, and the sky remains dark. 

Christabel lowers herself down to the floor when she hears voices. Their chatter is panicked and hurried, all of them speaking over one another until Andrew shouts for order. Christabel quickly dresses and goes downstairs, concealing herself to listen in on their conversation.

“I saw the black apparition! I saw it as it came from the potter’s field! It dragged its bones along with it, and it took hold of Old Man Littlegrin!” Lady Dorothia cries out.

“There is only one person this creature can be!” another witch roars in anger. “They swore vengeance when we hanged them! Their treason is not yet over.”

“We should move the girl, Andrew,” Lady Dorothia urges. “If she stays here, then they will only grow more powerful. Their blood is alive! I warned you that keeping her was bad fortune! Her blood will doom us all!”

“I will not have any more said on this!” Andrew roars. 

“The revenant will not rest! You will doom us all, you foolish man! Kill the girl! Spread her blood on the gallows! It is the only way to save us from a fate like Old Man Littlegrin’s!”

“Old Man Littlegrin betrayed him, and that is why he died! If you’re free of guilt, you have nothing to fear,” Andrew snaps. “He is angered he was caught in his lies. His vengeance is unjustified, and soon he will wither!”

“Percivell Winthrop’s blood lives!” Dorothia wails. “He will not leave us alone while his child is in your house!”

“I would rather kill you than her, you horrible old hag!” Andrew roars at her. “Christabel is mine! She never knew her father!”

Christabel reels back, cupping her hand over her mouth. She slowly moves away, going back up the stairs and locking herself in her room. She sits down on her bed in a state of shock, staring at the floorboards as she tries to go through everything she just heard.

As she lifts her head, there is a tapping at the window. Turning slightly, she sees ash billowing against the windowpane. The tapping continues, as if someone is throwing pebbles at her window.

“Come out of the house,” a dark voice rumbles. “Escape from your bonds and remove yourself entirely. Come to me if you wish to be free. I am the only one who can save you, but you must leave the house immediately!” The whisper is urgent, and rattles in Christabel’s bones.

“Who-” Christabel’s voice shudders. “Who g-goes there?”

“It is I who sired you, I who am half your life,” the voice rasps. “I am your father, child, and I have returned because I hear your cries.”

Christabel stands up and approaches the window. Shakily, she reaches for the curtain, but as she does her door opens. Turning, she sees Marleygrin standing there with the dinner cart.

“Are you hungry?” Marleygrin asks.

Christabel stares at her, and then she begins to weep.