One

chapter one an introduction to our main characters

Chapter One

 

I sat at my desk and realised that I had to make a decision. It was something I’d imagined doing many times before, but now it was happening I felt strangely sad. Knowing what needed to be done I picked up the phone and dialled.

“John Monroe”

“John its Billi” I said, unsure as to what I should tell him. “Something’s come up.” I said “and it means I need to resign my post with immediate effect.” I fabricated a vague story about the passing of an eccentric family member, and said I’d come unexpectedly into quite a lot of money, but the will dictated that for me to benefit I must give my full attention to the restoration of a Victorian house in The Park. I told him that I had only a few months to get this done or I would lose the inheritance. “I know this is out of the blue but it’s something I need to do to. Anyway Sarah can take over my role now, you know she’s ready”

John seemed surprised but just said “Oh, ok Billi, if that’s what you need to do then fine. Good luck, I’ll have the HR department send the relevant paperwork to your current address” and he hung up without a good bye.

Honestly I felt pretty terrible for lying and letting John down, of all the humans I knew he was one I actually liked. Still the unexpected events of the previous night kept running through my mind, and as strange as it may sound, I felt like the balance of good and evil had started teetering dangerously.

 

As it happens part of what I told John is true. I do own a house in the Park; it’s a four storey, five bed town house on Newcastle Drive. It also has a basement and extensive sub-basement caves which the original Victorian occupants had carved into ornate rooms with a spiral stair case down from the main basement. I brought this house after I’d been in Nottingham for about a month and realised how much the vast underground labyrinth could occupy my time.

Up until now the house had been empty apart from the housekeeper I employed. I’d never moved in as it always felt too big, but now the private access to the caves was too much to resist. I’d have to move house; as a bonus though, it would mean that my new and devious foe wouldn’t know where to find me for a few days.

“Right” I said out loud still trying to convince myself this was happening. “Time to pack up and move”

 

I knew I was hungry but the thought of eating made me nauseous, and also I started to feel completely exhausted. My normal ten minute shower went on for nearly forty minutes. I just sat under the warm water leaning my back against the cold white tiles; hugging my knees and trying to deal with my new and unfamiliar feelings of fear and guilt. I’d never killed one of my own before, even though Jack had given me little choice, killing another of my kind made me feel uneasy and profoundly sad, there were just so few of us left. I can’t quite explain it, but I almost felt as though a part of me had died with him.

 

I needed to clear my head and so I decided to take a walk up to my new home; more than anything I needed to talk to its only occupant.

I got dressed, pulled on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and in a vain effort to cheer myself up I put on my bright yellow Ed Hardy pumps embossed with roaring tigers and wrapped a long cotton tiger print scarf around my neck. The irony of these items made me smile, somehow portraying a little of my inner self outwardly made me feel more secure. I packed a leather shoulder bag with some spare clothes and headed out of the building. The cool morning air and my tiger covered clothing lifted my spirits a little as I tried to let the previous night’s activities drift from my mind.

 

I walked without urgency as I passed the white stone of Nottingham’s 1920’s council house, where my now ex work colleagues were sure to be feverishly discussing my sudden departure. I put my hands in my pockets and wandered through the large open expanse of pale stone slabs across Old Market Square and up Friar Lane towards The Park.

I was in no rush for two reasons: Firstly I had very little memory of the location of the house; I knew it was on Newcastle drive but couldn’t quite place where that street was. Secondly, and possibly more importantly, I didn’t possess a key.

As I walked up Friar Lane I began to use my nose. I knew the comforting scent of my trusted house keeper well and hoped that by finding it I could follow it home. I crossed Maid Marion Way and headed up the hill towards Nottingham Castle.

 

Recently, and thanks mainly to a lot of studying, I have discovered more about the origins of Nottingham’s castle quarter. I’ve learned a lot about the city’s history since moving here. This particular area has been populated for centuries in a similar way to the Lace Market on the other side of town. During the Anglo-Saxon times Nottingham was part of the Kingdom of Mercia, this kingdom covered an area that later became south Derbyshire, Leicestershire, Nottinghamshire, Staffordshire and North Warwickshire.at that time Nottingham’s nickname was “Tigguo Cobauc” which means Place of Caves (I stumbled across this quote about Nottingham while reading up on the caves “If a man is poor he had only to go to Nottingham with a matlock, a shovel, a crow, an iron, a chisel or a mallet, and with such instruments he may play mole and work himself a hole or burrow for his family.” Anon 1870)

Because of the image this conjures up I imagine that Vampires have always found shelter here, it’s filled with dark corners.

I headed past the castle and through a set of large wooden gates, entering Nottingham’s private Park Estate, as I did so I found the scent I had been searching for and happily followed it along Lenton Road.

The vast million pound houses in this area are set behind high walls and don’t look all that impressive until you go through the gates onto the property.  I imagine that none of them have less than five bedrooms but I know very well that many of them have extensive sub basements.

I followed the scent along Park Valley and up a very steep and seemingly endless stair way. I managed to reach the top of the stairs without being out of breath and with a small sense of achievement I looked back down the winding stair way. The trees were turning green and looked beautiful draping over the path as it descended into the estate. The area started to look more familiar as I headed up hill once more, and before I knew it I was standing outside my Newcastle Drive home set into the steep hillside of the park valley; it was much grander than I had remembered.

I quickly walked through the layout in my head, the lower ground, ground and first floors were for the owner and the second (top) floor was set up, as it would have been in Victorian times, for the house keeper and staff, although now that level was a self-contained apartment with two bedrooms, a living area, kitchen and bathroom.  It turns out this is where my housekeeper had chosen to reside. Her name is Sally Ann Granger and she is my dearest and oldest friend.

 

Like me Sally is a werecat, not a big cat but a domestic cat. Her form is that of a beautiful and quite large, long haired house cat. She is also quite rare among her kind; most other domestic werecats are short haired and black, blacker than any other cat you’ve ever seen. Sally however is black and white with long glossy hair; she looks somewhat like a Norwegian Forest Cat.

Sally and I met as children living in rural Nottinghamshire and had grown up playing together in Sherwood Forrest and to this day she is the only other person that I am completely comfortable being in close contact with.

Author's Note

updated hopefully less confusing now :)

Reviews

[Alex]

Good job on this chapter. It could use a comb-through to clean up some errors in word usage, though. Throughout the chapter, I found myself wondering what was narrating to me, in a distracting way. You did a good job starting off at hinting that it was something different: "of all the humans I knew he was one I actually liked." This was a great teaser statement, but as the chapter went on, and the narrator began identifying as a Tiger, I started to get confused. And then when Vampires were casually brought into the setting, it got a little worse. The final couple paragraphs help in clearing this up, but the chapter as a whole remains a little...off. I think if you leave out the narrator's comments about being a tiger, it won't seem so alien. Leave in the part about wearing tiger-print clothes as being ironic, and the keen scent, and even vampires (these all remain great hints as to who/what the narrator is without stretching the reader's imagination too thin), and I think it would be a much better delivery to finally find out he's a werecat at the end.

That aside, great job! The narration is smooth, has proper pacing, and the descriptors are effective. I'll take a look at Chapter Two when I have the time!

[louwilding]

Thanks this is really helpful :) I've changed the chapters around a few times and this may account for it being a little confusing. Glad you liked it though

[rohit 95]

nice writing ,with a balance of everything .liked it

[louwilding]

thank you, i have now added chapter 2 and would love some feedback

[Samuel Dickens]

I find this interesting and, for the most part, well-written. It does need editing, though, for punctuation, missing/extra words, and in a case or two, an incorrect word. (wondering instead of wandering, for instance) I can appreciate what you're doing in creating a kind of werewolf story that uses your own, original beings.

[louwilding]

Thanks, sometimes due to my dyslexia I add or omit words, it’s why I am posting things on here as others generally see my mistakes better than I can. Thanks for tanking the time to read this