The 8th: Prologue

She looked at the long black streak down her left arm. She traced it from the crest at her wrist to its thin tail almost in the crook of her elbow. Its unhappy dark color stood out from pale skin. Quietly she put her arms through the sleeves of her coat and buttoned up the front. She wound a burgundy scarf loosely around her neck then draped her long hair over her shoulders. Her boots clicked against the wood as she glided down the stairs. She stood for a moment in the vast chamber. The mansion was cold and empty. The gilded chandelier hung above her head, lightless and still.
She followed a long corridor into the kitchen. A few dusty pots and pans hung on racks. She opened the large refrigerator. On the shelf was one large, white drink pitcher. She held a glass under the spout and pressed. A small drizzle of red liquid began then dripped until it finally stopped. She examined the glass. The fluid had barely managed to coat the bottom of the container.
"Annabelle, won't you be a doll and run into town for us?" said a smooth voice from behind.
She turned. A familiar frame stood in the doorway dressed in a shiny black suit. He brushed a long streak of black hair out of his face. He smiled gently at her.
"Sure," she responded stoically.
He nodded then approached her. Setting the glass aside, she shuffled the pitcher off of the shelf and closed the empty refrigerator.
"How are you?"
"I'm alright. How are you? Sir."
He grinned, "About as well as I can be. I can't help but feel a distance between you and I, Annabelle," she looked at the floor, "It's been a decade or so, hasn't it?"
She nodded at his shiny black shoes. He put a hand on her shoulder.
"I know adjusting to this environment was difficult… but I'd really like to see you play a bigger role in this family," he lifted her chin.
She looked into the green orbs ahead of her. They were so sincere.
"You're the youngest addition to this family, but you're knowledge exceeds our own for all that you've seen," he paused, "I know there's been a lot of pain in your life. You were the one who fed off of them for the longest time; therefore it's only natural that the transition in two thousand was not an easy one. I feel ashamed that I haven't announced more frequently how proud I am of you."
She felt the strong urge to cry wash over her.
"And, I must say, you are my poster child, Annabelle. You show the rest of us that this challenge can be overcome. You're the perfect model of my ideals. Therefore you will inherit this family should any harm ever come to me. I know you will uphold these principles better than anyone else."
She looked at him in surprise. Her jaw dropped.
"But, I have only been in this family for-."
"I know," he answered softly, "I am aware that the others have had much more time than you analyzing life…"
"Andromeda is dating that Sheppard boy."
"Yes, and I am very interested to determine the results. However, you know better than any of us what it is like to be human. So it is my honor to appoint you as the sovereign of the Gale's."
Speech escaped her. He stroked her brown waves.
"I would appreciate it if you honored the gala this year as our such. In fact, plan for it," she appeared flabbergasted to him, "Do not worry, I will inform your siblings. You run your errand and pay no mind to the others."
He pat her twice on the head and sauntered toward the exit.
"Gale?" she called after him.
"Yes, my Annabelle Lee?"
She lifted her shoulders, "Thank you."
He smiled then disappeared, his shoes clacking against the parquet floor into silence. She examined the glass she'd set on the counter top for a moment. Annabelle lifted the drink pitcher by its handle and carried it out with her. Passing the entrance she fished her keys out of the key bowl. She closed the front door behind her then walked to her vehicle in the chilly early autumn air. She tossed the pitcher into the bed of a truck and unlocked the cab door. After the engine roared to life she made her way at a steady speed down the extensive drive. Annabelle glanced back at her expansive home in the rear view mirror. Its great windows were vacuous and dark, as if no one lived there at all.
She knew better. The mansion was home to seven others like her. They lived under the guidance and supervision of Gale. Their lifestyle was comfortable, albeit very abnormal. The driveway gradually transformed into the long, winding main road past houses and small patches of farmland. The young village of Winterlynn sparkled through a soft foggy haze. A moving truck approached quickly and blared its horn. She quickly swerved to the side of the road allowing it to pass. Her eyes were wide in aggravation. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel firmly. After she had calmed down she carefully moved back onto the road and continued on her errand.