One

1685. The July heat and humidity were horrible that year in New Orleans or rather the swampy bayou lands just outside of the growing city. But the skies still blessed the land with healthy rains. The cotton crops were good this year. The Jasper family had plenty; not only with wealth, but with a newborn addition to their expanding little family. Caroline had blessed her husband Aiden with a fine, healthy daughter, though she was a little small coming a month or two early. The couple named her Addison Elyse.

But the birthing was hard on Caroline; she was a small and fragile woman. She would produce no more offspring for the Jasper line. This occurrence sent her into a deep depression.  These events forced Aiden to take in one of the slaves from the fields, an elder black woman named Neeta, to help raise the baby girl up. Yes, he was not saddened at the fact his name would not carry further than him, his only concern was for his wife and newborns wellbeing.

Through the years, Caroline overcame her sorrows. But she had a hard time bonding with little Addison, whereas Aiden lavished attention and gifts on the child. He retained the nanny, not subjecting her back into the fields, to help teach Addison how to be a proper young lady.

At five, Addison was full of life. Her flesh was sun-kissed with a nice golden tan from hours spent outdoors. Hours spent playing with the children of the slaves or riding her ponies. Her dark hair was always out through the pain-staking task of curling. And she was always dressed proper in the finest of clothing. Though the hours outside left her proper little outfits in shambles come the end of the day from her rough play.

It was then that she started taking an interest in the goings on of the slaves. The 'religion' they practiced; the dolls and charms and gris-gris. Caroline was against this curiosity in Addison, finding blasphemy in the voodoo culture of the slaves. She demanded Addison to their own 'proper' church services every Sunday morning.

But Addison's nanny, Miss Neeta, began teaching little Addison simple things in secret. The simple doll making, charm making, protection wards of the voodoo religion.

As Addison grew in age, she hungered for more knowledge of the low-country Voodoo. Miss Neeta obliged her growing need, as did some of the other slaves. They had each taught her the differing roots, herbs and blossoms needed for certain things. The candles, anointing oils and the spell baths. Even the secret animal sacrifices. Many of them practiced differing kinds of the voodoo, from low-country to Haitian to African.

When most girls were preparing for extravagant balls, Addison cared little for such things. Though to hide her secrets and protect the slaves, she participated. To please her mother and father, she went to each social gathering, presenting herself as a proper belle of the ball. Participating in these functions helped her family's social standing in the wealthy circles. Though with her coming of age brought suitors.

Many eligible bachelors, both young and old, vied for her hand. Some her father dismissed, some he encouraged Addison to get to know better.

Addison was reluctant. She didn't like any of them. The older wanted her for her nubile young body, and well, so did the younger suitors. But all in all it came down to her father's wealth. Greed was everywhere.

Addison was often warned not to go into New Orleans shipping and slave selling districts alone. But that was where the merchandise she sought was; the secret little shops hidden within other little shops. Miss Neeta had accompanied her with a big strong slave male as protection in the past.

But in 1705, just after her 20th birthday, Addison had slipped from the plantation into the city. There were some herbs and roots coming in from Haiti and Africa on the slave trade ships that she wished to buy for her own collection.

She wore a fine dress, but not over showy, so as to not make herself a target of a pickpocket or swindler. The journey had taken longer than she had anticipated, the skies were darkening. The street lamps were being lit by an elderly man, lighting the oil wicks of the overhead street lanterns with a stick.

She came to the shop she was seeking, only to find it closed. Her crimson lips gave a pout, and she gave a little stomp of her foot. Though not spoiled, when she wanted something, she was usually determined to get it.  And this setback was most disappointing to her. To risk slipping away a second night in a row would bring suspicion from her parents and nanny alike.

By this time, back at the plantation, her mother had already discovered Addison's disappearance from her room. Her father discovered the missing horse and the carriage while searching the property. Addison's father was livid; her mother was distraught.  Poor Neeta, beaten with a belt, suffered for not keeping a better eye on the Jaspers beloved child, though she was a grown woman. The lashing was harsh, Caroline stepping up to berate the elder black woman. She admonished Neeta for teaching Addison in secret the things better left unknown but to the slaves.

With a sigh, she headed back toward the street she had left her horse and carriage tied up. She passed taverns and pubs, not paying much mind to those lingering about.

Not until someone roughly grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into an alley between two brick buildings. He clamped his hand over her mouth roughly. Addison's eyes watered, not just from fear, but from the overwhelming smell of whoever had snatched her up. He smelled foul. He was tall, lean and black with mouth split open into a grin. His yellowed teeth showed bright in the dim light. His voice sent a shiver of pure fear down Addison's spine.

"Lil bird has left da roost...come down dis way for forbidden t'ings, no? I be knowin' all 'bout ya, lil bird. Ya be learnin' t'ings better left alone for da likes of ya..." He said, his accent sharp, his voice rough like someone who'd spent a lifetime smoking and drinking. But he didn't look that old. He ran a long digit down the creamy expanse of Addison's neck. "I teach ya somet'ing no one else can...but it come wit a price..." Addison felt waves of fear coming off of her, and he seemed to notice this as well. He brought his nose in close, smelling the air around her. She shook her head. No, she wanted to go home. She didn’t want to know anything this man had to teach.

"Ah..lil bird...tis too late for ya...ya ain't got no say so in da matter..." He said, with the same sickening grin. "AH! But it is a gift! Ya will see. Ya will grow in power and have all dat ya want...and ya know da laws, ain't nothin' for free...a price will be had..." He said, his lips coming close to her ear. Addison gave a struggle, but his grip was strong; much stronger than he appeared.

Addison struggled against the tall lanky man, making him grin even wider. A thin line of saliva left his mouth, making Addison's stomach give a roll.

He dragged her further into the darkness of the alley. What happened next was a blur. A few moments in time that Addison would remember in the barest glimpses of memory, even on the best of evenings.

The man opened his mouth wider, two elongated fangs protruding from his gums. Addison tried to scream behind the hand held over her mouth. He roughly turned her head to the side, biting and tearing in a vicious manner into her neck. She screamed behind his hand, tears falling from her bright blue eyes, her hands coming to struggle and push and punch. But with each passing second, she felt weaker than the last. Her knees gave out from under her, and the man held her in an almost tender fashion, sinking them down onto the dirt below.

Addison couldn't breathe, and she felt weak under his onslaught. She closed her eyes, only to be roughly slapped against the cheek. "Dun ya be goin' now...we ain't finished..." A monstrous man's voice said, and she cracked open her eyes, her lids heavy. "Ya wanna know 'bout life and death...ya t'ink the Iwa will save ya?" He said, a happy chuckle leaving him.

He then forced something into Addison's mouth. It was foul, and she gagged, her weakness not allowing her to escape his grasp. "Drink it down, lil bird..." He intoned, his voice becoming a little gentler than it had been. She resisted all the same for a moment. But he held his wrist to her mouth so tight; she had no choice but to swallow. She wanted to vomit. She felt feverish yet rocked with a chill. Still he insisted she drink the substance down, realization that it was his blood becoming aware to her in a horrific fashion. "Da more ya drink...da better ya will feel, lil bird..." He said in a sing-song tone of voice.

With having little of a choice, she did. She drank down the blood. She drank it down until she was breathless.

He tore his arm free and stood over her, laughing in delight.

She gripped her stomach; she wanted to vomit, but couldn’t. The man knelt down next to her, grabbing her up by the arm, leaning into her ear. "Dis is jus da beginnin' lil bird. Dis is jus my vengeance for my peoples, and ta teach a pretty white rich girl da likes of ya ‘bout da darkness. True darkness…" He sneered at her.

He then gripped her chin, making her look at him. A light flickered to her side, and he forced her to look at it. The light dimmed somewhat and there stood another black man. He was tall, well built, atop his head sat a top hat, and he wore a vest with bones and charms hanging from it. His face, painted white, like a skull. He grinned and gave a bow to Addison. A wave of fear and repulsion washed over her, something inside herself breaking free. Then the man in the top hat beamed a bright smile, holding an orb of purple-blue light in his hand, offering a bow once again.

Addison's eyes widened with disbelief. She knew what that was. The man holding her chin gave a chuckle. "Da Baron...he be keepin' dat soul of yours for now...maybe one day ya can barter wit' 'im, get it back..."

Before she even had time to blink, the Baron...The great Baron Samedi had disappeared, taking her soul with him. Her tormenter kept a firm hold on her chin, making her look at him as he spoke his parting words.

"Death...is da road to awe...lil bird..."

And then he was gone. No lights, no noise...just gone, into the night.

Addison crumpled into a heap in the dirty back alley, sobbing. She then noticed her senses becoming acute. She was aware of everything around her. She could hear people in their homes talking, hushed whispers. She could smell the gulf air. She could hear the sailors nestling down in the bowels of the ships getting ready for slumber. She could hear the mournful cries of the slaves, the rattling of their chains.

She covered her ears to block it all out. She stood on shaky legs, making her way back toward the lit streets. The oil burning lamps overhead burned her eyes, making her squint.

Then there was a pain. Blinding pain like she never imagined. Addison gave a soft yelp, shuffling back off into the darkness of the alley.

Her body screamed in pain though Addison could find no voice to make a noise. She finally did vomit up a foul black substance, as well as her last eaten meal. Her body seemed to be cleansing itself of all unneeded fluids. She felt the damp slickness between her thighs as her bladder gave way, as did her bowels.

Addison sat in a stinking heap in the darkness of the alley. She could hear a gentle rhythm from all around her; pulsing heartbeats.

She rested, listening to these heartbeats. Some were fluttery and fast while others steady and strong.

After a bit, she made her way to standing again. She felt a little stronger than before. But there was a burning within her. Her stomach seemed on fire, as were her veins. And her teeth ached. She ran her tongue over her teeth to find her canines elongated. Not a lot, but enough. Not like those of the horrid man who had done this to her.

She stripped off her dress, using it to clean herself up a bit. The hunger was growing stronger and stronger; the pulsing of the heartbeats beckoning to her.

She kept to the shadows, dressed only in her snug white corset and petticoat under-dress. She went into the shipyard, sneaking onto a ship.

She allowed the steady pulsing of heartbeats to lead her feet. She found herself in the bunk room of the ship's lower hull. A few men sat up, looking at her, perplexed.

And in just a few seconds, Addison ceased to exist, and the slaughter began.

Two

Addison moved among the men, grabbing them up with strength unknown to her. Some new instinct seemed to drive her now. Her consciousness took a backseat to this newfound creature she'd become. She tore into their throats, drinking deep of their crimson blood, gorging herself. She would stop, vomit, and then begin anew. This newfound never ending hunger driving her into a virtual bloodbath.

Nothing the men did could stop her. Some tried to fight back, only to have limbs torn asunder. Their bodies twisted and ripped apart in Addison's onslaught.

The screaming and shouting stopped, and Addison stood there, panting, as though she needed to breathe. She wasn't yet aware that her body no longer needed such a thing as air to survive.

Addison, covered head to foot in blood and gore, felt the darkness consume her.

She wanted more.

She crept to where the slaves and prisoners were kept by the handlers in chains and cells. She pulled the chains and locks from the doors and bars with ease. Entering inside, she did much the same as before. She drank and killed everyone; men, woman and even the little children.

When finished, her hunger seemed to have abated for now. Her endeavors had exhausted her, it would seem. Sleep beckoned to her. She crept through the ship, to exit. Dawn had come. She could hear the gulls and the people outside the ship. She stepped past a portal in the hull to the greeting of the fresh risen sun. A sunbeam touched upon her arm, smoldering and sparking in flame. Addison gave a yelp, jumping back into the shadows, using her petticoat to douse the flame. The pain was immense. She looked at her arm; it still glowed with burning embers, scorched. But the pain was leaving the wounded area. She watched in rapt fascination as the flesh and muscle began to heal itself, albeit in a slow manner. But it was healing and regenerating much faster than it would have before the events of the previous evening.

Lesson one. She had to keep away from the sun.

She ran through the ship, into the storage compartments, looking for a place to hide herself. She found a large truck full of various items. She upended the trunk, clearing it out and slipping herself inside. She prayed to whatever deity who may offer pity for her to protect her slumber.

When next she woke, opening the crate with care, she had found it was once again nightfall. She exited the ship, her hunger as great as it was the past night. She moved on to the next ship. She continued with moving from ship to ship before the authorities began guarding them more. And so, this was her first lesson in the need to be discreet in her actions. She would climb overboard, swimming out into the waters to a safe distance before coming ashore to begin her night anew. It did little to wash away the filth and blood clinging to her.

She had been missing for more than a week. Her father and the local sheriff found her horse and carriage. Upon further investigation, they found her soiled, torn and bloodied dress in the dirty alleyway. Her coin purse, still full of money as well as her shoes where there beneath the mess, too. They feared the worst. The case closed as a murder, as no one could survive what the evidence had shown to be such a brutal attack.

Aiden and Caroline mourned the loss of their one and only child. They held a funeral service at the family cemetery on the northern part of their property, far from the swamp and bayous.

Addison remained within the city. She would feed on the less fortunate, the homeless, and the slaves chained to posts in the square. Sometimes she would even break into a home. She would entertain herself feeding on an entire family for the night and then take refuge in the home during the daylight hours. That was when she got the first glimpse of herself and what she had become.

She looked into the tall dressing mirror. Her once neat and tidy curled hair was long and straight, messy and disheveled. Dirt and dried blood stained her now porcelain skin, no longer holding that sun kissed glow.

The sight of her eyes haunted her. No longer were they a vivid blue, but now a pale blue, other-worldly pale. In the light of a single candle she had lit, they reflected back at her, like a cat's eyes.

She sobbed at her appearance. She wanted to go home. She wanted her mother and her father.

What would they think of her? Do they miss her? She had so many questions. Addison had no one to answer those questions for her. She was alone.

She stayed within the city for another week. She gorged herself nightly before moving toward the outskirts. She had to move to the less populated areas; back toward home.

She walked the dirt road leading to the front of the plantation home. One of the slaves holding a torch for light came running in a quick jog.  "Miss Addison...dat be you?" He asked in a hesitant manner upon seeing the pale girl, her corset and petticoat stained in blood and dirty. Her petticoat torn and ripped, ragged at the ends above her slim ankles and muddy bare feet.

"Master! Master!" He yelled, waking everyone on the property. "It be Miss Addison...I think..." He said, not wanting to get too close. She smelled. She smelled something horrible, of blood and rot and death.

Aiden rushed out of the home, Caroline in tow, wrapping her robe around herself. Aiden took the torch from the slave, ordering him for more light, lanterns and torches.

He stood before Addison, who stood like a statue, just staring. She could taste their fear in the air. She looked to her mother, who stood gripping her husband's arm. "Aiden...is it Addison...what's wrong with her?" She asked of her husband.

As more lanterns and torches were lit by the slaves, Addison’s visage could was noticeable in more light. "Addison, good God...what's happened to you...where have you been...we thought you dead..." Her father said, taking a step forward, towards the girl.

"Mama...Papa..." It was all she could manage to say.  And then she saw her precious nanny. "Neeta..." She uttered in a soft voice.

Neeta stood between Addison and her parents. She immediately started chanting. The rest of the slaves on the property all stepped back, repeating the old black woman's words.

"Neeta...stop it...you're frightening Mama and Papa..." Addison said, tears brimming within her eyes.

"You stay back, Master...dis aint da Addison ya knew...dis aint ya child anymore..." The old black woman said, blessing herself. The rest of the slaves followed suit, blessing them. The act brought pain to Addison. She hissed at them all; the flames light gleaming against her small fangs.

Caroline gripped Aiden's arm sharper, pulling him back away from Addison. "What in God's name have you become..." She said in a whispered, but venomous tone.

The slaves began gathering around again, chanting, holding crosses, spewing curses. Addison wept before looking into the repulsed expression of both her mother and father.

Something snapped within her. She reached out for them, wanting to hug them to herself. "It's me...its Addi, your little girl..." She wept, grasping for them as they continued to step further back from her.

"Get away, you foul thing...our Addi is dead and gone...you...you are some demon..." Aiden finally said his heart breaking.

"NNNOOOOO!" Addison roared in anger. The noise of the slaves and the rejection of her parents were too much for her fragile mind to withstand. She leapt forward, grabbing her father by the collar of his shirt, her mouth lunging at his throat, tearing it away. Addison's mother shrieked as she and the nanny ran toward the house.

The slaves converged on her as she dropped her dead fathers’ body to the ground. They stabbed at her with pitchforks and other farm tools, but as she was they were unable to bring her down. She tore through them, feeding on some, tearing others apart limb by limb. The front yard before the plantation manor was becoming littered with bodies. Some were intact, while others where in pieces spread here and there.

Addison's reflective eyes then turned to the home itself. Step by step she made her way up the front steps, onto the porch, and then into the house.

She scented the air with her keen nose. Neeta was burning incense. Addison followed the smell, coming to the old woman's room. Caroline sat huddled against the wall as Neeta seemed to be doing some hex or ward. Addison walked over and knocked all the materials away in a nonplussed fashion.

She got down on her hands and knees, reaching out and touching her mother's leg in a gentle way with a bloodied hand. "Mama..." She whispered with longing and heartbreak in her voice. Tears made little rivers through the blood staining her face.

"Ya leave de woman be Addison..." Neeta said, holding a crucifix. She then looked to Caroline, who looked as if she were ready to take her daughter up into her arms and comfort her. "Dun ya be doin' dat, Mrs. Jaspers. Dat ain't de girl ya knew...dis t'ing...she walks between life and death..." Neeta whispered out.

Addison looked to the old black woman. She hissed at her, before turning to face her more direct. "Fix it then...make me back to what I'm supposed to be..." She hissed at the old woman. "Dere ain't no fixin' ya..." Neeta said in a soft tone.

Addison's mother was inching away. The foul stench coming off Addison was making her want to retch. Addison noticed, her eyes turning back to her mother. "Hold me Mama...make everything all better..." Addison implored. She moved to her mother, resting her head on Caroline's chest, her slender arms wrapping around her mother's waist.

She could hear the erratic beat of her mother's heart, the pumping blood. She could smell the fear, and taste the heady natural chemical of adrenaline. "You get away from me...you...monster..." Caroline uttered out in disgust.

Addison closed her eyes. Rage rolled through her though she tried to push it back. A hand reached up, caressing her mother's face in a gentle way, before moving through the woman's hair. She grabbed it roughly; the woman screaming. Addison brought her mouth down onto her mother's throat, silencing her. She drank in all the fear and adrenaline coursing through the woman's system. The woman struggled, but soon, her heart gave way. She was never healthy throughout her life.

"Look what ya do...ya kill everyt'ing dat meant somet'ing to ya." Came Neeta’s soft voice from the corner.

Addison straightened, laying her mother back on the floor. Addison began brushing the woman's hair from her face in a loving gesture, crossing her hands neat and prim over her belly.

She then turned to Neeta. "You...You will live..." She hissed. "You will tell me what this thing is that I've become..." She ordered though tears still fell from her eyes.

Addison looked around the small room. Neeta still huddled in the corner. Addison stood, moving to her mother's body, lifting her mother's limp body into her arms with surprising ease. "Follow me Neeta, and don’t even think of trying to run..." She said to the elderly woman. Neeta stood; eyes cast downward, obeying her Masters daughter.

Addison carried her mother's body through the house. She stopped once, her eyes moving to Neeta. "Make me some dinner and draw me a bath..." She ordered, and then moved out of the house to carry her mother's body to the family cemetery. She dug the woman a grave, then another to lay her father's body to rest. She cried and sobbed. She hadn't meant to hurt either, their rejection of her pushed something within herself. Something dark and twisted.

With the task of burying her mother finished, she moved to the front yard of the home. She moved to her father, doing the same, placing him to rest beside his wife.

As she moved back toward the home, she surveyed the carnage she had left in her wake earlier. Blood soaked the land; bodies and body parts. She couldn't just leave it all lying about. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, smearing blood across the alabaster skin, she set to work on disposing of the bodies. At first, she dragged the dead bodies to the swamp; the alligators would pull the remains into the swamps murky water. But the trek was a long one, and she knew the sun would be up sooner or later. So she started to drag them into one of the slave quarters. With the task of clearing away most of the debris of human wreckage done, Addison looked around. She dropped a a lit oil lantern into the bloody body filled cabin, catching the building ablaze. She stood back, watching it burn. The dry summer weather helped, as did the old wooden and shambled conditions of the quarters.

Addison looked around the property in an absent manner, her pale blue eyes scanning the area. There were still...entrails...here and there. The crows and other scavengers could have them.

She went back into the manor, moving to the dining room, where Neeta had set out a plate of stew and rice. Addison sat down and began eating. After a few bites, she sat back, looking at the food. There was no taste; none whatsoever.

And then her body revolted against the substance. She couldn't hold it in, or back, as she threw up the small bit she had eaten; her stomach was not allowing for the sustenance it used to thrive on.

"NEETA!" She yelled. The old black woman came from the kitchen, again, eyes downward, afraid to look at the young woman. "Did you poison my food? Try to kill me?" She asked the woman.

Neeta shuffled into the candle light a little more, face cast downward. "No ma'am...what ya is...ya dun eat such t'ings no more..." She murmured out.

Addison looked to her.  "And beverage? What about wine? Can I drink Papa's moonshine?" To that, Neeta gave a nod. "Yes ma'am...liquids be jus' fine." She said.

"Fetch us both some of Papa's moonshine. You will sit here at the table with me and tell me what I now am..." She ordered to the slave woman. Without hesitation, the old woman moved to obey.

Neeta returned with two mason jars of clear liquid; a potent brew of moonshine. Aiden Jaspers family recipe handed down through time. Addison knew how to make it, though her father had always forbidden her to drink it. It was 'un-ladylike'.

Neeta sat a jar before Addison and then sat down at the opposing end of the table with her jar. She sipped it, making a face, then sipped some more. Addison watched her with care and distrust before bringing her jar to her lips. There wasn't any taste to it. It wasn't sharp and didn’t burn the throat and belly as it had once been.

"Nuttin' gonna be da same for ya now, child..." Neeta said from the other end of the table. Addison looked up, casting her gaze on the woman. "Then tell me, what am I? And what will become of me now?" She questioned.

Neeta took a bigger drink, then looked down the long table to a lost young woman she had raised up. "Ya be da un-dead. Ya dun eats food no more...ya drink da blood of da livin'. Ya can drink almost anyt'ing. But to survive, you need da blood of the livin'." She offered up.

Addison looked at her, her head tilted to the side. "So a zombie, like in voodoo lore? Is that what the man did to me? Am I the walking dead? The Baron...he took my soul to the underworld...said I may get it back one day...would that make this all go away?" Addison questioned.

Neeta shook her head. "No...ya ain't be no zombie...ya be da vampire. Ya be livin’ at night, sleepin' in da daytime. Da sun, it will kill ya. And if da Baron has your soul, it just means it in da underworld, if'n ya git it back. It dun change what ya are now...ya be dis t'ing....forever..." The old woman said, then took an extra big drink of her moonshine.

Addison processed what the old woman had said. "So none of your charms or hexes or potions can cure me of this?" She then asked.

Neeta looked up to the young lady, giving a shake to her head. "No, my child, voodoo and magic will not cure what ya be havin'. It's a curse...immortality. Nothin' I be knowin’ of can cure ya, not even gettin' ya soul back from da Baron. From what I be knowin', yal get stronger as the years go by. Be gainin' power, and wit' your understandin' of voodoo, ya can be addin' to dat strength. Be ever watchful though. Hexes and curses can put ya down, makin' vulnerable. Blessed objects, Holy objects...be watchful of dem." The old woman warned.

Addison gave a nod, finishing off her moonshine before getting up. "I'll be taking my bath now. Take the draperies from my room and put them over the draperies in the master suite so no sunlight can peek in." She said to the woman who had more a hand in raising her than her own mother. The old woman nodded, setting about as ordered.

Addison climbed the stairs, slipping into the washroom, looking at the steaming waters that filled the tub. She pulled off her bloodied corset and petticoat, slipping into the waters. She scrubbed at herself hard; in vain, she tried to wash away her sins. And while her body became clean, the waters bloodied, and dirt filled, her sin remained. She'd slain so many in her unending hunger for blood for which she was coming to feel little remorse. She sat in the waters, crying for all she had done, and for what she had become. What she was further becoming.

When there were no more tears to have, she finally stood from the murky waters, drying herself and slipping a nightgown on. She looked out of one of the windows to see the slave quarters she had set ablaze. It was still burning, scorching away the evidence of her actions.

She went to the master suite, seeing that Neeta had done what she had requested. The old woman sat there in a chair, waiting.

"You will sleep in my room for now. There are preparations to make to ensure that no one stakes claim to Papa's...my property..." She said, correcting herself. All Neeta could do was offer a simple nod. Before she could exit the room, Addison offered one final warning.

"If you try to run, try to leave...I will hunt you down...and then I will hunt down generations of your family..." She said hissed out in a vapid tone.

Three

Addison woke the next evening. The hunger was there. But she also had another task to do. She needed to ensure her property remained hers.

She gave it some thought. She would need an attorney. She needed someone she could coerce. She needed someone with the knowhow for drafting the needed documents. Said papers would need to state that the Jaspers had left the country in their mourning for their lost child. The land deed would need to deed and turn over to someone else, but they would have to be 'family'.

Addison gave it a lot of though. As she dressed for the evening, she came up with the idea of a young niece of Aiden Jasper that could be the new deed bearer. Addison would appear years later to stake her claim as this niece. Of course, this was something she would have to do for...well...forever...to ensure she kept what was hers by right.

Satisfied with her plan, she looked herself over in the mirror. She dressed herself in one of her mother's more risqué gowns. It was a deep crimson. Addison chuckled. It was fitting. Her corset cinched up tight as she had no need to breathe, making for ample bosoms while her waist was trim and petite.

She went to Neeta's room, letting herself into her nanny's room. The old woman sat on her bed, and her spell book and chicken bones lay out before her.

Addison looked everything over. "Conjuring?" She asked in a plain tone. Neeta shook her head. "Divinatin'."  The elder woman said. Addison gave a nod. "Nothing looks too bright, does it?" She asked though she wasn't seeking a response. "I want a copy of your book. Everything. Every spell, enchantment, curse, hex, ward...everything." Addison then said in a demanding voice, yet her tone was soft.

"You be dressin' like a harlot Miss Addison...you be goin' to da city?" Neeta then asked somewhat bold.

Addison looked to her and nodded. "Yes. I have to ensure this property remains in my hands, not just for now, but for the future. I'm also going to have drafted the necessary documents granting you your freedom. With hope and luck, there will be no problem there. When I free you, I trust that you will keep my secret...and I would suggest you travel to the North as far as you can go. I'll give you the funds needed. I hear Negroes are freer up Northern ways..." She rambled off, turning to exit the room.

She took the horse into the city of New Orleans. Addison stepped into a seedy looking tavern; all eyes fell on her. She offered a smile, just waiting for someone to offer her a drink. She didn't have to wait long. A young man approached her, inviting her to his table, wiping off his glasses in a nervous fashion. Addison gave an approving nod, taking a seat.

She sat and talked and drank with the young man, watching him fall further into a drunken stupor. She smiled to him as she gestured for him to follow, leading him outside, her mind playing over her exact moves from that point. She took him to a secluded spot to feed on him. She tried her best to be neat about it. She still needed a little work in that area. Addison was thankful that in the little clutch bag she had brought was a small dampened cloth to clean her lips and chin.

Night after night she sought out an attorney in the various pubs and taverns to no avail.

 She sat in the dim candle light with Neeta one evening, the old woman altering more dresses for Addison's new 'style'.

Addison broke the silence in the room. "I'm going to Baton Rouge. I think I'll have better luck there." She announced. The old woman just continued sewing and gave a nod.

Addison clicked her tongue in annoyance. Yes, Baton Rouge or maybe Gulf Port.

She had to get away from New Orleans for a bit. The deaths and mutilations were causing a bit of panic. She had to back off.

Addison picked out a few days worth of clothing, her most stunning of gowns, and loaded all into a carriage. She headed out from the plantation just as darkness settled in; Addison would make her way to more fertile hunting grounds.

She had to push the horses hard. Making it to Baton Rouge by daybreak would cut it close. If sun-up came too close, she'd have find shelter for the day and continue the journey the following evening.

And that ended up being the case. She didn't want her horses dropping over in exhaustion. And she had managed to prey upon another guest of a small boarding house, satisfying her never ending hunger for the moment.

When she had finally arrived in Baton Rouge, Addison had a feeling of refreshment pass through her. A new city, no one knew of her or her family. She could feed to her heart's content for a bit without the city falling into a panic too quick.

She seemed to have amazing luck in this new city. On her first night there as she was making her way to a tavern, she saw flickering lights along the business buildings sidewalk. Thoughts of devouring someone in the darkness placed on hold for the time. She passed an attorney's office...lanterns burned bright through the window.

She tested the door, finding it to be open. As she stepped inside, a small bell chimed above the door. A young man, looking tired and weary, rushed to meet her. "I'm sorry Miss...The office door is supposed to be closed and locked up for the evening..." He said to her, his cheeks staining in a blush.

Addison looked at him, giving her most innocent and pleading of looks. Something she used to use to get her way in matters when dealing with her Papa.

"Please, Sir, I'm in need of some important documents. I plain and simple don't have time for normal business hours. And your office is lit up, the door open...please, Sir, please take the time to help me...I will make it worth your troubles." She said, opening her little clutch bag and producing a very large amount of money.

The gentleman, Geoffrey, looked at the amount of money she offered. He staggered back a few steps to lean against the door frame of his office. That was more money than he would make in 5 years in his present position in the law firm.

Addison could see it in his eyes; the want, the desire, the greed. "Please...I have a unique situation. I will give you all this now, for some simple documents. And then, in a few years, I will return. I will pay you again, for further documents. You understand, yet, discretion is a must, to continued payment for services..." She said soft tones, taking a step toward him, holding out the cash.

He swallowed hard, straightening and clearing his throat. "My name is Geoffrey Peterson. I...I will help you."  He then said, moving back away from the door frame, extending his arm to invite her into his small office. "Please, come in and have a seat, Miss...I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name..."

Addison offered a sweet smile. "That's because I did not offer my name. That in itself is a matter we will need to discuss for further business. I will be entrusting you with a secret. A secret you must swear to not divulge to anyone, no matter what, be it a wife, lover or friend." She said in an almost sing-song tone, but her eyes were holding the briefest of cruel intents.

She went into a small office, taking a seat at the desk. The poor man's desk just covered in papers and files and law books. It was clear he was fresh out of law school, an under-partner in the firm.

As he came around the desk and took a seat, he looked at her in a pointed manner. "So then...this documentation you need...I gather it will be straddling the law?" He inquired. He was starting to sweat.

In demure fashion, Addison smiled. "Yes, yes you could say that. You see, I have a unique situation. In my home city, I am declared dead. My parents and all their slaves also perished. What I need is for the deeds to the family land to be placed in a false relative's name, to ensure the lands stay within my grasp for a long time to come. Hence, I will be visiting you on occasion through the years. Oh, and I also have a slave I wish to have her freedom documented to grant her travel as well as those traveling papers in order." Addison said, skirting around her secret for now, just to pique a man's interest. It was certain he was showing some interested in the money. It was obvious he wasn't paid well in this small office.

He crossed his hands before himself, thinking. "You will be playing the part of this long lost heir to lay claim to the property in time; I suppose?" He asked, and then leaned forward a bit. "How will you do that exactly? If we place an age for the heiress, who is, usually, between 18 to 21 years of age, how will you play the charade as time moves on?" He then asked.

"Oh, you are a bright one. They aren't paying you enough here in this firm. You're quite astute, Mr. Peterson." She said. "I will play the part with no problem. The ravages of time will not affect me. I will appear then as I do now, this day...or evening rather."

Addison then stood, smoothing out her skirting before making her way around the desk. Geoffrey turned his chair to face her as she leaned over him, grasping the arms of his chair. He became very nervous, yet curious at the same time. Addison could smell it on him.

"My secret, Mr. Peterson, which I will pay you quite handsome over the years to keep, is quite a simple one." She said, closing the gap between them and giving a wide grin; her deadly little fangs shown clear in the lights of the lanterns. "I am cursed. I will not age. I will not die. But take care, Mr. Peterson, should you betray my trust, I will come for you. I will take everything you hold dear and destroy it before your eyes, before dispatching you as well." She said in a low tone, her southern accent thick, yet her voice only held an edge of malice.

Geoffrey scooted back far in his chair. His fear was quite evident now. He was sweating, the perspiration starting to form on his brow, spilling down his face. "What...what are you?" He gasped out.

Addison moved to stand straight, allowing the man his personal space once again. He immediately reached into his pocket for a hanky to wipe his brow.

"I told you, Mr. Peterson. I am the cursed. What more is there to know?" She said, her tone turning almost sullen.

"Your name...your real name...?" He stammered out.

"I do not see why that is of any consequence. But, of course, you will need some of that information for the documents. My name is Addison Jasper. But, in New Orleans, she is dead. Her family is too; but the locals there will be lead to believe otherwise. This documentation that you provide is vital. With it, all anyone will know is that the Jasper family left the country to mourn their dead child elsewhere." She said, looking over some of the books on his bookcases.

She could hear his heart beating faster, his blood pumping something furious in his veins. Oh, how it made her hunger, made her fangs ache to break the flesh. But she fought it back. She needed this man. She was sure he would come around, especially with the large sums of money she was offering. She heard him clear his throat once again, so she turned, looking to him once again.

"I...I'll do it...I'll do what you need." He said whispered, with a bit of hesitation.

"You have a family, Mr. Peterson?" Addison asked.

Geoffrey gave a nod. "A wife...a child on the way..." He said.

"I will pay you handsome sums. I will pay you more than enough for a comfortable living, and to invest in your child's, or children's, futures. But, I remind you; discretion is a need. You must not be frivolous with your newfound riches. Take a trip; tell your associates of a death in the family and you are collecting a handsome inheritance. Then, in the future, with my continued payments, you can always just say you made wise investments that paid off." She said, her mind planning over details to safeguard them both. "I will also need you to go to New Orleans to file this documentation. I can't do it myself, and it would look more believable coming from a licensed attorney." She added, ensuring this ruse go off without a hitch.

He swallowed hard again but nodded to her sound advice.

Addison had a sense of accomplishment. She felt confident in this endeavor and this man. She returned to the seat opposite him at the desk, offering up her property deeds and what not.

The man set to work; they created a fictional 'niece' to inherit the Jasper property. Geoffrey drew up the papers to relinquish Neeta from her servitude, as well as legal travel papers. Addison took a copy of everything, should she ever need it.

Everything was going just wonderful. Addison sat back in her chair, her new documents tucked safe away into her bag as she set her hands across her lap.

"There now. We could continue this arrangement for a very long time, you know. You and your family will want for nothing. And in your later years, perhaps you could prime up a replacement. You could retire with your wealth, ensuring my future, as well as yours." She said with a smile.

Geoffrey offered his first smile of the evening, tucking away the stacks of money into his tattered briefcase.

Addison stood to leave. Her hunger was gaining momentum by the minute. "Well, it's been a pleasure, Mr. Peterson. I will see you in a few years. I wish the best for you and your family until that time." She said, moving to leave.

Geoffrey touched her arm in a light fashion, to stop her. He took note of how cold her skin was. After a few seconds silence to regroup his thoughts, he finally spoke. "I'll keep your secret...help you through the years...but...will you one day sit down with me and tell me what it's like for you?" He asked, almost stammering on his words.

Addison looked at him, noticing the chill that seemed to run through him at touching her. He wasn't even aware that it was visible. She moved, stepping closer to the door. "One day, or evening rather, I just may do that." She said. "Thank you much for your service, Sir. I'll see you ...well...in a few years..." She chuckled out, leaving the building off into the night. She needed to feed, so she listened for the ruckus of a pub.

Addison left Geoffrey standing there, dumbfounded, yet, exhilarated. He would do as she asked, step by step. His thoughts turned to all the money. He and his growing family would never have to live week to week on the minimal pay the firm paid him. He would still appear to live a humble lifestyle, to not gather suspicion or questions. His goal in life was to be a great lawyer, maybe even a judge one day. He would still strive for that.

Addison reached a pub with music and laughter flowing into the streets. She plastered on a pretty smile and entered into the pub, giving the room a glance before moving to take a seat at a lonely table.

 Tonight's menu looked promising.