They left the room and he accompanied the Mistress down several long corridors. The estate house was so huge he could get lost in it. “You see, Professor, the truth is that my kind have long been running a disinformation campaign. I’m free to tell you this because having entered here, you’ll remain a part of our community one way or another. You won't ever be leaving us. Not alive, anyway. So-called legend, the lore, is that vampires are all extremely powerful and ruthless. Look at the ones that we’ll pass shortly but don't say anything. I may point a few out to you but do not stare. Understand me?”
“I do.”
“It has been part of our defenses, to seem invulnerable. Humans have made up a great deal of false stories about us on their own, too. The truth is that many of us are broken creatures. We often see ourselves as essentially parasites at best, murderers at our worst. We cannot abide in the normal daytime world, yet all of us were once a part of that world, now denied to us. Can you see where I'm going?”
“I'm not sure that I do.”
“A large percentage of us suffer from mental illness.” She slowed their pace as they passed an entryway to a large common area. “To your right. Look at them; can you not see it? Hardly any here are functioning well. I've created this sanctuary to protect them from outside society, but also from themselves. Can you imagine what it would be like to want to die, to feel the need to escape your own existence, but be unable to?”
“I think I can…”
“Your life has been short compared to these. Suppose your present mood had already been gnawing at you for several lifetimes. Imagine the depth of depression; the despair. Do you know that sunlight doesn't really kill us?"
“But that's...”
“Another myth. Yet there have been attempts and most only accomplished horrible pain and disfigurement. The ones who have died in sunlight only died from the trauma of the pain; like being fried alive…for a very long time. Humans could dispatch a vampire quickly if they knew what they were doing but none really do anymore, nor are they interested in staying around a vampire to discuss depression, suicidal thoughts and humane killing. And I really don't like seeing my people trying to die.”
“I'm not a psychiatrist to be able to help these creatures.”
“No, but you're an old and respected and intelligent man. That may be enough for some. For now.”
“I'm still not following you.”
“Let us set that aside for now. I want you to meet some of my... problems. Of course, you will not refer to them as such.”
He noticed they'd arrived at room 312; the interior resembled a hotel room, fully appointed. Upon entering, three young females rose from where they'd been sitting and stood in a row before the Mistress and the Professor. “Professor, allow me to introduce you to Adelaide, Gwendolyn and Beatrice.” Each bowed very slightly at their names.
“These three have been selected to work with you as your staff, performing historical research for me and, if you wish, for your own projects. They've been waiting for someone like you to come along.”
The Professor began to laugh. “No. Impossible. You can't be serious. These are practically children! What could they know? How could...”
Beatrice, the smallest, stumbled backward whimpering something he couldn't understand. She turned and ran, nearly falling, out the door. Gwendolyn, who appeared the next older, ran after her, calling, “Wait, we're not done!”
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