Bleed with Style. Part 2 (An original vampire short story.)

Polly headed for the nearest entrance to their underground citadel. They moved unnoticed by all through the run down commercial area of the city. Eloim followed still grumbling about his life not being fair. At first Polly found Eloim's tantrum at not being allowed to use her make-up amusing, but after they had walked for three blocks it started to irritate her. Finally she spun on him and grabbed him by the throat.
“If you don't be quiet, I'm going to cut out your tongue,” She said, producing a knife that she held up for him to see.
“I'll tell on you...” Eloim began.
“No you won't, as I'll have your tongue and it takes a week for it to grow back,” Polly cut in, then she smiled chillingly, showing her fangs. “Plus Mum and Dad left for Rome today. If you hadn't been messing about you would have known about that. So can you guess at who's been left in charge of keeping you out of trouble? It’s my rules now, little boy.” She smiled sweetly and released the now terrified Eloim and began walking again. After a moment Eloim followed in silence. He would just have to borrow someone else’s make-up.

Eloim stood in the middle of Polly’s room, a look of horror on his face. It wasn’t the many empty beer cans thrown in the general direction of a small waste bin, or the dirty clothes that were scattered around and in some cases thrown towards a laundry basket in the opposite corner. The large yellow and white python that lay curled in the open coffin in the centre of the room didn’t bother him either. What made Eloim’s skin crawl was the open wardrobe and total lack of organisation of the outfits within it. Just as he thought he could take no more, he saw a pile of boots and shoes, many caked with mud, just left where his sister had thrown them. How could she leave them mixed up in a heap, especially when he had got her a shoe locker just last year to keep them organised? He walked over and opened the door to the ornate chest shoe locker, to see that it was empty apart from a pair of pink fluffy slippers.
Picking up the slippers, he looked around the room again before throwing them into the large open fireplace where a small fire kept the chill out of the room. He began to work through the pile of boots, searching for pairs. Other boots followed the slippers as he ruthlessly removed any items that were dated, yet not dated enough to be retro, and the small fire in the fireplace began to blaze a little higher. The shoe locker quickly began to fill up as he organised the boots into order depending on style and colour. Soon he had a display that would not have looked out of place in even the most expensive boot outlet. Finally happy with the boots, he closed the door to the locker with a smile and a feeling of a job well done, and looked around the room again. Tidying up his sister’s room may have been a punishment, but he was starting to enjoy himself.

The snake had woken up and was now curled in front of the blazing fire, enjoying the warmth. Eloim began to pick up the dirty clothes and place them in the laundry basket, pausing to inspect a few items that caught his eye. With the laundry basket quickly filling up he decided that Polly’s outfits needed to be thinned out, so he began to throw items that didn’t look stylish enough in the fire. He was so engrossed in sorting the clothes, he didn’t notice when the snake suddenly made a break for the door as the fire continued to grow and the wall hangings to either side began to smoke.

The only things in the room that Polly seemed to keep organised were her extensive array of weapons. These she kept spotlessly clean and organised within a large display case. With the floor now clean of dirty clothes, Eloim stopped to admire them before tackling Polly’s wardrobe. While he personally had little time for weapons apart from an ornate dagger he carried, he could admire them, and so considered the fashion possibilities of getting a few of his own as accessories to some of his outfits. Opening the door to the display case he carefully lifted up Polly’s prized Masamune Samurai sword. Removing it from its sheath he admired the blade, before turning and swinging the blade in a clumsy arc.

It was at this point he noticed flames engulfing the wall hangings either side of the now blazing inferno that was the fireplace. To make matters worse, Polly’s coffin was just reaching combustion point, already charred and smoking on the end nearest the fireplace. Eloim froze in horror as he watched the wardrobe too burst into flames, the clothes within flaring as the fire engulfed them. With his undead life flashing before his eyes as the coffin joined the wardrobe in welcoming the flames to it, finally Eloim sprang into action. Still holding the sword, he turned and ran. Running through the doorway he threw the sword to the floor and slammed the door shut. Leaning against the door he was trying to gather his thoughts together when he heard a voice he really didn’t want to hear.
“Eloim, you do not treat a weapon like that, my son. Have you learnt nothing in weapons training?” His father walked over and knelt down to pick up Polly’s sword carefully. “You will damage the blade. Now where is the sheath?”
Eloim looked at his father in terror. He stood taller than Eloim with long blonde hair tied back. Power emanated from within him, and although he never raised his voice, just a look was enough to make anyone quail in fear. His father though, was not looking at Eloim, he was looking down at his feet and the smoke billowing out from under the door.
“Erm, Dad,” Eloim struggled for words. “You’re back already from your trip.”
“What have you done, Eloim? I take it all this smoke coming from under your sister’s door has something to do with you?” his father asked calmly, as if he was enquiring as to whether it was raining outside.
“In a roundabout way, I may have.” Eloim paused, considering what to say and his chances of getting away with a lie. After a moment’s consideration, he realised the truth would be better. “Polly’s room is a little bit on fire. I have saved her sword though. I was just coming to get help.”

Eloim sat in his room, which under normal circumstances was cramped, given the number of boxes and chests that contained his many outfits. Things were now worse, as Polly's new coffin was sitting in the centre of the room, while Eloim’s own had been pushed into a corner. The citadel was a little cramped on sleeping areas as the clan continued to grow, and with Eloim accidentally destroying Polly's room, she had moved into his, insisting that she needed to keep a better eye on him. him. His father’s early return from his trip had proved vital to Eloim as he had been the only one able to drag Polly off Eloim. Admittedly she had cut out his tongue before she was dragged off, but he was alive, and the week he had spent locked away while Polly calmed down had seen his tongue just about grow back.

Since being allowed to return to his room Eloim had learnt that his Father had returned home on his own and had spent much of his time since locked away with several of the clan’s elders. The citadel was awash with rumours, which went into a new frenzy when the order went out that no vampire was to leave the citadel. Polly had become even more attentive to Eloim’s movements and had decided that during his free time he should have extra lessons on using weapons. She took many of these lessons personally and seemed to take great delight in beating the un-living daylights out of him as she gave him instruction. Despite the daily broken bones and sword wounds that would have killed a human, Eloim was a fast learner and his skills were improving.

After his latest session of sword play Eloim sat in the armoury. When not training or having his other lessons, Polly had him working on cleaning a rather ancient and rust-covered broadsword. The weapon would have been highly prized if in good condition as the balance and quality of the sword was excellent. For a week he had been working on cleaning and sharpening the blade and each morning before they went to their coffins Polly would inspect his efforts. If she considered he had worked well she would give a nod and then the next day would break fewer bones during training.

Only once on the first day had he not bothered to clean the blade. The following day she had gotten the huge Elder Gary to take the training and he had been beaten unconscious three times before Polly decided baseball bat training was over and sword training could begin. Eloim still had suspicions that a baseball bat was not a real recognised weapon. Polly walked into the room, drawing Eloim out of his musing. She placed a rucksack on the table.
“Tool up Eloim, you’re coming out with me,” she said with a smile.
“But I only just started on the sword,” he began, before realising what she had said. “Going out? But no one’s allowed to go out.”
Polly’s smile turned into a grin. “You following the rules now? Come on, it’s gonna be fun.”
“I need to choose an outfit. I just can’t go out dressed like this,” Eloim said, indicating a deep red valour cat-suit he had on.
“Clothes are in the bag. Now quickly, get changed, we’re going out on business, not to socialise,” Polly said urgently. Eloim opened the bag and pulled out a pair of black trousers and a long sleeved black hooded top. “You can’t be serious. I can’t be seen dressed in these. You didn’t even pack any accessories!”
“The weapons belt is an accessory and the whole point of tonight is not to be seen. Now come on.” She picked up the clothes and threw them at him. “Get dressed quick.”
“Can I at least grab one of my own coats? No offence, but plain black leather is such a cliché vampire outfit. I’ve got a full length leopard print one with a fur collar that would set this off much better,” began Eloim.
“No, hurry up, Dad is waiting down by that secret exit of yours, and you know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Eloim looked stunned. “Of course we know about the exit, daft lad.”

Thanks for reading, upvotes and coments are welcome.
Missed part 1? Read it here: https://steemit.com/writing/@alienbutt/bleed-with-style-part-1-an-original-vampire-short-story