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    MrM
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental. Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.

The Seducer: A Gone From Daylight Inspired Story - 10. William Harker’s Journal: Entry 10

§ §
Friday, September 14, 1989

The last couple of days have been completely uneventful. Wednesday, I had a strange headache and spent most of the day napping when I wasn’t forced to go to the couple of classes I have. Fortunately, Wednesday is a very light day for me.

Thursday, Dr. V cancelled class! He left us with a pretty wicked reading assignment in that we were to read most of a whole book before coming to the next class! It is an easy read as it is quite interesting! It is about a survivor of the Nazies in World War II that managed to escape a concentration camp. This person later helped organize resistance groups in Romania. He was a fascinating character named ‘Vlad’! I don’t know why I found that amusing, but in light of Dr. V’s being a ‘Vlad,’ I had to wonder if he picked up on this story because of the name of the person alone! More than likely, it’s because Vlad is a national hero rather than an ego boost to an already eminent professor. I didn’t see Rochelle in class either, which was a disappointment. I was going to ask her if she wanted to share dinner with me in town, but no go since she wasn’t there to ask and I don’t have her number.

I quickly finished up today’s work so that I could get ready to possibly meet her for our planned trip to the Salon Rouge. Not having seen her since Tuesday, I was a bit concerned that she’d have forgotten about me. I would not have blamed her, I’m not the most memorable of guys to remember.

But, I shouldn’t have worried. She came walking up right at 8 PM sharp, just like she promised she would! I have to say, she looked quite spectacular for just a little evening out. I’d been smart enough to put on my ‘nice’ clothes so I’d not look like a total grunger going into the private club. She was dressed in a lovely ankle length red dress with spaghetti straps. It was form fitting, but not ‘fishtailish’, if you know what I mean. At her throat was a beautiful red gem that I took for a ruby! I suddenly felt completely underdressed!

“Oh! You look lovely tonight!” I blurted without thinking. I don’t know, but I must have blushed furiously after running off at the mouth like that! What an uncool greeting! I thought she’d think me a lovesick puppy dog! But, I shouldn’t have been so worried since she seemed to take it in perfect stride! She was going to be the ‘cool’ one here tonight, I was to find.

“Why thank you Mr. Harker! I bet you say that to all the girls!” She teased. I wanted to come back with ‘what girls’, but did have control of myself not to say anything quite that foolish.

“I should go get my sports jacket, I think. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.” I made to turn to go back in to get my one blazer I had. It was a bit out of date, but should be ok. My mother always told me that on a date it was important not to outshine your girl, so there’d be no danger of that with my limited wardrobe!

“If you like. You look quite fine the way you are!” I felt another blush come on as she seemed to return my compliment. I excused myself, but offered to let her inside just to keep warm since, although September, it was starting to get nippy around the edges.

“I’m fine! I don’t want your Den Mother/Battleaxe to get all pushed out of shape seeing me coming in with an underclassman. I know her…she’s pretty old fashioned about things like that.” Rochelle said with a touch of bitterness. I think she may have had run-ins with her before!

I grabbed my jacket and then we headed out, up to San Francisco and to the Salon Rouge for my second visit. This time, though, I was not made to fall asleep to Chopin. Instead I was treated in the other direction! Rochelle was all into a new band called Nine Inch Nails who had a heavy electro-rock sound that was different than other music I’ve heard! She had it cranked pretty loud, but not unpleasantly so. I found myself doing that neck/chin bobbing thing to ‘Head Like A Hole’ quite a bit.

“Looks like you like Industrial Rock! NIN is new to the scene, but that Trent Reznor can scream it out better than any of the others out there, even Ogre!” Rochelle said as if I had any idea at all what she was talking about! Honestly, in my white bread little world the heaviest I ever got was Billy Idol and he’s not even a hair band!

“They’re certainly…different! At least to anything I’m used to listening to! This Trent guy has strangely catchy lyrics that I like.” I offered, probably weakly.

“It will be interesting to see where he takes it. I’ve heard a lot of ‘punk’ music hit the scene. American style stuff out of Seattle that has some promise. I think we’re in for a big musical change in the ‘90s!” Rochelle added with a touch of giddy excitement.

I guess she’s not been a fan of the poppy type of music that’s been being played on the Top 40. That said, her style seems to be a lot harder than the strangely etheric and beautiful music played at the Salon Rouge.

“You like a harder edged kind of music than what I’ve heard at the Salon Rouge. I have to admit to not knowing much about that kind of music either. It’s strangely . . .” I couldn’t find the right word.

“Ambient? Yeah…I know what you mean. Though I like NIN and Skinny Puppy and stuff in my car, I do also love the music they play at the Salon. You don’t hear that played anywhere else! It is called ‘Night Music’ by Rutherford Majestic.” Rochelle quoted a flamboyant name that got my head to turn toward her. I must have had a funny look on my face because she snickered.

“Rutherford who?” I had to ask.

“Hehehe, Rutherford Majestic. He’s the MC/Music Director/DJ for the Salon Rouge. He’s also the event promoter. Tonight he’s promised a live act which you might enjoy. It’s a treat when this guy sings, actually - Lestat De Lioncourt. He’s performing tonight!” Rochelle said almost like a teeny bopper talking about a Bon Jovi concert she was about to attend.

“Lestat sings? I should have guessed! Hehehe!” After my introduction to him, I could see it! Actually, Lestat’s theatricalness made more sense now that I knew he performs as a rock musician or ‘Night Music’ musician.

“ ‘Should have guessed’? You sound like you know him or something!” Rochelle said like she couldn’t believe little ol’ me could know the Great Lestat!

“Oh, yeah. Dr. V introduced me to him my first night. He’s quite the character!” I said nonchalantly.

“OooOOOoh! Ok! Now that makes sense! Lestat must have been currying favor. Dr. V is held in very high esteem at the Salon! I almost forgot, he was the one that took you there last time! What an honor that was, William!” Rochelle said almost reverently!

“He is?” That struck me as strange, but also explained why the room seemed to give my professor extra space in the crowded club.

“Oh, yes! He’s one of the oldest members of that club! He’s been the, er, Club Lord since forever!” Rochelle seemed to be hiding something in how she phrased that. Also the turn of phrase ‘Club Lord’ was something I found quite strange.

“What’s a ‘Club Lord’?” I asked since that needed an explanation.

“Oh, hehehe. Well, that, um…it’s hard to explain to first-timers. The Salon Rouge is an old private club modeled after the Hellfire Club. That organization used to have ‘Black Kings’ and ‘White Queens’ like playing cards. The Salon has ‘Lords’ or those who have been with the club a long time and often support it financially. They also tend to be community leaders and what not. If members get in trouble, the Club Lords step in to help them! It’s a kind of a neat system, really.” Rochelle explained which just opened up a whole bag of other questions. But, I spared her those. Maybe Dr. V might explain better someday when he wasn’t so busy.

Someday wasn’t this evening though. When we arrived, the place was packed! The doormen waved us both in without checking anything! The one who accosted Dr. V and I before simply nodded his head at me in recognition and let us pass. He paid no attention to Rochelle at all, like she was such a familiar face she might as well have been air entering the place.

Inside, the front bar was darker than before, lit only by red lasers and rose spotlights! The mass of people were reduced to patterns of blackness and red, their uncommonly pale faces reflecting the red light in shouts of sharp features. The light played an eerie trick on me because I thought, for sure, I saw red pinpoints where pupils should be! Thankfully, all the faces were smiling, friendly, and strangely welcoming towards me! They even parted the way for me, leaving Rochelle in my wake so she wouldn’t be crowded out.

“Welcome, Young William! You are a breath of life in this place!” A voice came next to my ear and I jumped a bit at it! But, my freak-out feeling increased when I saw no one next to me to say it! I turned to Rochelle and she shrugged with a goofy smile!

“It wasn’t me! Maybe, um, over there?” She pointed vaguely in front of me. It was no wonder that the voice seemed familiar to me, standing next to the bar several paces away was Desmodius, the older gentleman I met the last time I was here with Dr. V.

I cleared the paces rather quickly as I felt an unfamiliar cold hand softly touch my shoulder and then my neck! I turned to see who touched me and again. . . no one was there! I don’t know why I felt like I’d be ‘safer’ in familiar company, but if it was an illusion than I preferred it to the alternative.

“Ah, you seem unsettled! Do not be. It is not unusual for the ladies here to take a fancy to a new young man among them. We do not often have the opportunity to entertain new blood here at the Salon Rouge. When you were here last, ours was a sparse community. Tonight is more common a party! Ah, Rochelle! Twas you that brought the young lad! Capital! His, er, Patron will be pleased it was you to escort him.” Desmodius said with that old ‘grandfatherly’ way he addressed me last time. His knowing of Rochelle shouldn’t have surprised me, but with a club as close-knit as the Salon Rouge, I suppose it would be a given.

His use of ‘Patron’ for Dr. V was weird! I chocked it up to his being British and all.

“Young William! I would like to introduce you to my protégé. Similar to how you are with your Patron, I am to this young lad. He is called Charles.” Desmodius gestured to someone who had sitting at the bar behind him who suddenly appeared out of the darkness like a vision!

Charles, you have to understand, is gorgeous! He, again, had me questioning myself and my, um, preferences.

“I am honoured, Master William! The Maestro has spoken most highly of you! I shan't be forgetting my manners to this fine Lady, however. Rochelle, you look as lovely as ever!” Charles first took my hand as gently as one takes a child’s hand yet gave me a firm handshake. He then proceeded to kiss Rochelle upon the cheek. I think both of us blushed!

“You big old flirt you, Charles! Some things never change!” Rochelle returned Charles’ kiss and I felt myself get jealous doubly over! Two beautiful possibilities at the same time, but kissing one another when SOMEBODY should be kissing me! I know, that’s silly, but feelings are feelings.

But all feelings of being left out left me as Charles turned eyes that glowed blue like a November sky to focus on mine! Did I already say that Charles is . . . beautiful? Well, if I did, it bears repeating!

He has dark blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and skin as silky and pale as a satin sheet! His eyes seem to have their own eyeliner so they ‘pop’ like a cats, but not in a freaky way. Not any freakier than anyone else at the Salon where the light plays such dazzling tricks as to make everyone’s eyes seem to glow!

“I am so pleased to finally meet a peer here at the Salon Rouge. Two apprentices to two of the great Masters in our little world, though I must say, I envy yours just a little.” Charles tilted his head away slightly while still holding eye contact. I think I could use the word ‘demurred’ as the best way of describing it. It wasn’t sincere, though. I don’t think Charles really thought anything more of me for having Dr. Valahi as my ‘maestro’ as opposed to his having Desmodius.

“Forgive my impertinence, Master. I meant no disrespect.” Charles looked ‘adoringly’ into his ‘master’s’ face! Desmodius merely chuckled.

“You may feel somewhat cheated of your choice in teachers, Charles, but I am one to know…Dr. Valahi can be a stern taskmaster when the needs require it. I don’t suppose such needs have.

been presented by Mr. Harker here…yet.” Desmodius said with humor that was touched with something a bit more…sinister. Whatever the case, the comment left me a bit chilled.

“Ok, you two! You’re freaking my friend out, like, seriously! So, if you guys have stopped ‘comparing things’ could we just step over to the bar and order something?” Rochelle made for the best companion this evening! She seemed to know just what to say and how to say it when things started to, truly, get too weird for me.

Now, here’s where things get a bit sketchy and it concerns me that every time I go to the Salon Rouge something like this happens to me.

So, they go to order me a drink. I only refuse that Rockstar drink because, well, it basically kept me up for four days after I drank it last time! I figured I’d get a Coke or a Sprite or something since I’m still underage, but no…they treated me to something alright. I noticed they were all getting what they called Frisco Sunsets, Blood in the Eyes, Bloody Marys, that sort of thing. All reddish drinks which I guess was in keeping with the ‘Rouge’ theme of the place. They all were a deep red color, though, with only the barest of garnishes…even the ‘bloody mary’.

They got me a cranberry juice with…something. I don’t know what it was, but when the same pretty bartender served it to me that served me the last time I was here, she poured the cranberry juice into a glass of clear liquid that then turned green on the bottom with the red juice layered on the top! When she added the ice, the green and red whirled together spectacularly!

She called it ‘Christmas’.

It was delicious, but, again, I have to say…I only remember bits and pieces after ‘Christmas’! Drinks in this place are strong!

In whirls of sight and sound, I remember a blur of a concert. It was the Lestat one, I’m sure, and his music seemed to fit the ‘twilight reality’ I found myself in after ‘Christmas’. I couldn’t tell you what he sang since I can’t remember much of his performance at all. All I can say is that the twisted chords of the music and the strobes of the light-show sent me right into some kind of trance. I remember dancing, but I don’t know with who or if I made an idiot out of myself.

Later, I remember being guided off to a side room in the club that looked like a living room. I vaguely remember it being called ‘the smoking room’ though I don’t remember seeing anyone smoking in there. Actually, I don’t remember anyone being in there at all!

Like a dream, I remember being touched all over by two people. I think it was Charles and Rochelle - no, I’m sure it was both Charles and Rochelle! I remember feeling a lot of pleasure and not having much on, at some point, since I remember all my clothes had been removed except for my unbuttoned shirt!

Before everything fades away, I remember lips on my neck and a weird scratching there as my pleasure mounted. But, then a whispered voice sung out in my head - “Lăzațere il. Ilé éztere a meú.” in a language I didn’t know, but in a Romanian accent I knew all too well. It seemed to translate into meaning:

“Leave him. He is mine.”

With that, everything ends!

Again, I woke up in my own bed this morning with no hangover, my night before seeming to be more than a dream, but less than a memory! If I was in any way normal about this, I’d never want to go to that place again! But, instead it’s as if I’m addicted! I need to return! I want to feel that pleasure again!

Copyright © 2020 MrM; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction that combine worlds created by the original content owner with names, places, characters, events, and incidents that are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidental. Authors are responsible for properly crediting Original Content creator for their creative works.
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