Chapter Text
Every large estate has its secrets. Dirty dealings, repulsive histories, problems swept under the rug. The Redmond estate was no different. The heir of the family had no interest in marrying a woman, and servants kept ‘mysteriously’ dying, their bodies found with nothing but a pair of puncture wounds in the neck. A heap of blood had seeped into the grass outside of the stables, but no body was ever found– the stablehand, palefaced, denied seeing or hearing anything; all animals were accounted for. Nobody but the heads of the family knew about any of this, of course. Their image swept clean; a strong, proud, good, catholic family.
The heir, of course, saw everything that was happening. His father was good at hiding stuff, sure, but not that good. Also, it helped that he knew where the murders were coming from– a local vampire, and secret lover to the heir. His father knew a vampire was at fault, but was none the wiser to his son and its relationship. This was, in part, because Joseph was married to a woman, Mary, and together they had already born children. Despite her view of homosexuality being anything but supportive, she understood that Joseph simply couldn’t love her the same way she loved him, and they ended out being good friends regardless of this.
In the distance, however, the skies darkened even further. Something was coming, something big– something dangerous. The stablehand, a young man named John but known as Casper, was dead. And yet, he remained. He cared for the horses, covered his neck with a bandana, went about his daily chores, and realized everybody could see him, hear him, touch him– despite the hole in his neck, despite the blood on the grass, despite the fact he knew he was dead– right? His existence meant something, something he didn’t quite understand. Not with words anyways. Joseph was in danger, the threat loomed over Casper in the form of a barn owl with pale white eyes, making itself home in the rafters of the stables. Then more birds appeared, mostly crows. One bird appeared for every death in the estate, and Casper quickly realized the owl was his own. Whether it was his soul, or his body, or perhaps something far harder to comprehend was beyond him. He didn’t have a single clue what was coming, or how he was supposed to prevent it. But, the sight of Joseph left him feeling hazy, like he could float off the floor like a saint in a stained glass window. The hisses and calls of the birds made him feel the grip of oncoming doom, and some ancient part of him seemed to claw at his ribs in an attempt to respond.
Casper removed a slab of hay, carrying it over to give the horses breakfast one by one, returning to each one with a scoop of oats and a pail of water for their troughs. It was routine to him, never mind the way the pails of water seemed harder to carry by the day, the way his clothes no longer seemed to fit. He didn’t want to consider the possibility of… whatever was happening to him. He didn’t want to consider any of it, actually.
“Good morning, Casper,” Joseph greeted as he slipped into the stable, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He looked… awful, actually, it was like he had slept out on the dirt and only managed a few hours before hastily throwing himself together to come greet his horses for an early morning ride to get his mind off of the vampi— it was highly likely that’s exactly what was happening, actually. Casper realizes he’s been staring at Joseph for too long and hastily responds,
“Good morning– I just fed them, they might not be willing to part with their breakfast..” Casper murmurs, tearing his amber eyes away from Joseph. The owl hoots from the rafters, seemingly awoken from its daylight slumber at the sound of Joseph’s voice. Its gentle call is a piercing scream to Casper, his stomach clenches with an unbridled fear as vague images like long-forgotten memories play in his head, Joseph, the vampire, Joseph’s death, blood, blood, blood–
“Oh, is it really that early? Sorry then, didn’t mean to disturb your morning. Or theirs.” Joseph chuckles, the sounds and terrifying grip of death fade as Casper realizes he’s gripped the bars of the stall door in front of him so tightly his knuckles have turned white. He lets go, shifting uncomfortably as he watches Joseph leave.
“Ah– its fine, I may have slept in or–”
“Don't worry about it Cas, I have stuff I need to anyways. I’ll be back in the evening.” Joseph says casually with a wave of his hand as he rounds the corner of the old wooden beams that support the doorway of the stables. Casper deflates as he watches Joseph leave, biting lip anxiously as he thinks about all the more productive things he could've said– maybe even told Joseph to stay, maybe try and warn him– god, he's stupid, but what would Joseph even say about his premonition? He’d probably think Casper was crazy, or worse. He needs Joseph to trust him, if he's going to try and talk him into safety. Casper rubs his arm in worry as he glances around the stables, remembering his other duties aside from Joseph.
Casper wills his legs to carry him over to the other ‘exit’ of the stables, that actually just led into the pasture, allowing him open the doors on the other side of the horses stalls and let them out into the pasture. As he stepped out into the early morning sun, he noticed that the shadows cast by the stable and trees alike cast an odd, blueish glow on his skin, as if the shadows were made of light and not darkness. It was faint though, so he just shrugged it off as another odd facet of his apparent death.
Finally, Casper had let all of the horses out to roam around the main pasture for the next few hours, a few of them remaining in their stalls to eat. He heaved himself up onto the slats of one of the old fences, gazing thoughtlessly at the horses. It was funny, how much he didn’t think anymore. Nothing mattered, nothing except the life of a man he knew nothing about. One by one, a crow fluttered out from the rafters, cawing their visions of death and causing Casper to coil in on himself, sun-dried wood splitting his palms as he tried to steady himself. Suddenly, Casper forced his head up, nearly falling over backwards as his eyes frankly searched the growing flock that had accumulated. The ravens circled over the pasture, their presence seemed to block out of the sun, casting blue shadows all over Casper’s face as he searched through them, looking for just one bird–
The owl.
He found it. The crows surrounding it seemed to part as the bird turned to fly not with the flock, but directly through it, directly at Casper. Its eyes, pale whispers of death, bore into his and seemed to hypnotize him. The world faded away bit by bit– the flock transformed into a shivering black blob, the horses mere background thoughts, Casper’s own senses faded away as he visualized only the bird that flew slowly towards him, its wingbeats silent as time slowed, as its face seemed to be magnify, its eyes as big as the sun as it flew impossibly slow, impossibly close to him. His ribs ached, his shirt wet with blood as something tried to escape him.
It said nothing, and Casper heard nothing. But he knew what it meant.
Save him.