Post by aszura on Apr 25, 2008 18:51:42 GMT -5
What a foolish man that William Bellonet had been, even after death. A plantation of such wealth on the coast of New Orleans’s and he had never fully explored the winding corridors or the underground rooms in the large 18 bedroom 6 bath mansion before leaving it to Mikhail prior to his disappearance. Mikhail knew that he had not because of the extensive journals left behind, each day dated with significant events and discoveries, if this wasn’t included as a significant discovery, then Mikhail was not a vampire . . . as the metaphor goes.
"Amazing. . ." Mikhail stood before the broken in stone wall that had fallen back into a chamber that lay beyond, of the large sculptured wall all was shattered except for the delicate face of one of Raphael’s angels, or he assumed it was an angel, he could not be certain (even with the religious pretenses of his name he was not a biblical creature, even before death he was without religion). Squinting slightly, it was so dark past the broken wall that even he was having some trouble seeing within what had to be a massive chamber; he took a few steps forward. Even without the use of his full sight Mikhail’s sense of smell was in no way affected, though it was irritated by fly away dust that was released with the tumbling cement. Beyond the darkness was the obvious scent of space . . . and mildew, and something more, but he was unable to place it exactly. Whatever it was it was old.
Without fear, for what exactly did he need to fear, he stepped over the rubble, he was surprised by exactly how thin the wall had been, or that it had lasted for so long for that matter, the house was well older than himself, and situated where moisture was in abundance, the ocean to one end, the swamp not far to the other; again he thought of how foolish William had been not to discover such a place.
After several moments’ sea foam eyes gradually adjusted and he was in awe by what he saw. It wasn’t a single room beyond the wall, but a stem of them, stretching probably the entire expanse of the house, if not more. In front of him there were two tunnels, to each side of him one more, and he stood in the entryway of a large rectangular room, and in it’s center, hardly visible due to the thick shadow and dust that had collected was a large stone rectangular structure. With a slight tilt of his head he took a step forward and was perturbed by the uneven floor. Stopping briefly he stomped on the cobbled stone and when he judged that it was sturdy enough, he continued forward towards the object.
Mikhail was no fool, he was aware of what he walked towards even before he stopped too look down at the smooth stone face of another angel, though this one could only be an angel of death. It’s beautiful face was blemished with an evil grin and fangs bared, they were longer than those of any immortal he’d ever met. The thing’s eyes were open and he felt that they saw him, even through their stone, pupiless inanimateness. Shivering slightly from the cold and what he knew to be wariness he took a step back. The angel adorned a large stone sarcophagus, and with his heightened senses he knew the thing to be empty . . . perhaps that was the most disturbing detail of his discovery.
Reminding himself that he was on his property he replaced his stony expression and glared at the sarcophagus, or rather the demon upon it. Before turning on his toes and heading out of the room, though he did look back briefly before ascending the stars just beyond, he was expecting company, and he imagined that this would be quite the intriguing find for his guest, that and Mikhail was never good with secrets. When he found something new he just simply had to share it, well gloat was perhaps the most appropriate term, it meant that he had something that another did not, it was a certain kind of a superiority complex he supposed, but he didn‘t question it.
Making his way quickly up the cellar steps and out into the Kitchen area, he received a curious stare from his cook (not that it was necessary for him to have a cook). Waving her away he told her to take the rest of the weekend off with which she gladly obliged, in fact Mikhail was certain that he would not be seeing her again anytime soon. Shrugging he exited the kitchen, while nibbling on a piece of cheese, food wasn’t necessary, but if one had it why waste it, and headed out to the foyer and through the closest door to him into the study where he planned to wait for his guest's arrival.
"Amazing. . ." Mikhail stood before the broken in stone wall that had fallen back into a chamber that lay beyond, of the large sculptured wall all was shattered except for the delicate face of one of Raphael’s angels, or he assumed it was an angel, he could not be certain (even with the religious pretenses of his name he was not a biblical creature, even before death he was without religion). Squinting slightly, it was so dark past the broken wall that even he was having some trouble seeing within what had to be a massive chamber; he took a few steps forward. Even without the use of his full sight Mikhail’s sense of smell was in no way affected, though it was irritated by fly away dust that was released with the tumbling cement. Beyond the darkness was the obvious scent of space . . . and mildew, and something more, but he was unable to place it exactly. Whatever it was it was old.
Without fear, for what exactly did he need to fear, he stepped over the rubble, he was surprised by exactly how thin the wall had been, or that it had lasted for so long for that matter, the house was well older than himself, and situated where moisture was in abundance, the ocean to one end, the swamp not far to the other; again he thought of how foolish William had been not to discover such a place.
After several moments’ sea foam eyes gradually adjusted and he was in awe by what he saw. It wasn’t a single room beyond the wall, but a stem of them, stretching probably the entire expanse of the house, if not more. In front of him there were two tunnels, to each side of him one more, and he stood in the entryway of a large rectangular room, and in it’s center, hardly visible due to the thick shadow and dust that had collected was a large stone rectangular structure. With a slight tilt of his head he took a step forward and was perturbed by the uneven floor. Stopping briefly he stomped on the cobbled stone and when he judged that it was sturdy enough, he continued forward towards the object.
Mikhail was no fool, he was aware of what he walked towards even before he stopped too look down at the smooth stone face of another angel, though this one could only be an angel of death. It’s beautiful face was blemished with an evil grin and fangs bared, they were longer than those of any immortal he’d ever met. The thing’s eyes were open and he felt that they saw him, even through their stone, pupiless inanimateness. Shivering slightly from the cold and what he knew to be wariness he took a step back. The angel adorned a large stone sarcophagus, and with his heightened senses he knew the thing to be empty . . . perhaps that was the most disturbing detail of his discovery.
Reminding himself that he was on his property he replaced his stony expression and glared at the sarcophagus, or rather the demon upon it. Before turning on his toes and heading out of the room, though he did look back briefly before ascending the stars just beyond, he was expecting company, and he imagined that this would be quite the intriguing find for his guest, that and Mikhail was never good with secrets. When he found something new he just simply had to share it, well gloat was perhaps the most appropriate term, it meant that he had something that another did not, it was a certain kind of a superiority complex he supposed, but he didn‘t question it.
Making his way quickly up the cellar steps and out into the Kitchen area, he received a curious stare from his cook (not that it was necessary for him to have a cook). Waving her away he told her to take the rest of the weekend off with which she gladly obliged, in fact Mikhail was certain that he would not be seeing her again anytime soon. Shrugging he exited the kitchen, while nibbling on a piece of cheese, food wasn’t necessary, but if one had it why waste it, and headed out to the foyer and through the closest door to him into the study where he planned to wait for his guest's arrival.