The servants and the other guards continued to search the intruder who had killed the master of this mansion. Councilman Creed was a popular man, maybe the opposite of how Damien was as he was never found in the frontline of any scandalous or rumored news in the council. If he were to ask to decipher on the matter further, there were some people who fell in the very same line.
Walking up the floors where the mansion was built high and wide, he stepped into the room to find the man lying near the patio of the room. Both the doors of the patio were wide open and Councilman Creed laid on the floor, lifeless with his eye wide open, lips parted and unmoving but the eye-catching detail was that there was no wound that had been caused outwardly. If it were a human, one would call it to be an attack on the heart but pureblooded vampires didn’t experience this. They weren’t superior beings for no reason.
Pureblooded vampires were stronger than the usual vampires and humans, given that they could die but this looked as if something that had occurred in the past too.
“It doesn’t look like anyone harmed him,” Damien said walking towards the body and bending to have a closer look as he squatted on the floor.
“Master Creed had asked the butler to prepare his meal as he was out and late working in the council,” said the servant.
“Was that what he told?” Damien questioned him.
“Ah, yes, Sir. He said he had been tired with the council work and exhausted too. When the butler came to call him for dinner, knowing when master Creed finishes his bath, he found a shadow jump out of the patio before master fell on the floor.”
“How long has it been since this happened?”
“Fifteen minutes before you arrived, Sir.”
“Hmm,” Damien touched the man’s neck at first. Feeling no pulse which a pureblooded vampire had unlike the average vampires, he then traced and placed the palm of his hand on his chest where the heart usually beat. Clearly the man was not alive but he could feel a certain dip in the expanse of the chest when he placed another hand. Another heart exploding case which would be considered and added into rare disease thought Damien to himself. Lord Nicolas could honor with the name of the disease as it was surely his doing.
Not that he cared about it, but he wanted to torture the man. He was disappointed that he couldn’t torture this one. The only people who knew about the case and warrant that was going to be issued were the three people he had a meeting with.
Turning to the servant he said, “Could you fetch me a glass of water?” The servant nodded his head and left the room. Leaving Creed in the other councilman’s hands. With the servant gone, Damien’s hand moved towards the dead man’s face, pulling up the eye-patch that the man had hidden for years now. The color of the iris was back in color while the other one remained to be red.
He was right. The man was a corrupted vampire who had helped the black witches as well as the switchers. He would have stayed alive if he hadn’t taken the risk of buying Euphorine from the black market but even the wise and cunning members of the society made mistakes.
Damien barely cared for what was going to happen with the death of councilman Creed. The man would be put under another added case of the unknown disease which would ultimately close the entire matter and be swept under the mat.
The servant returned back with the glass of water by this time Damien had let go of the eye-patch and stood up, leaving the body behind him.
“Do you mind if I got through the room?” he would go through it anyways but it was sometimes nice to ask them to have them oblige to his words. Damien went through the closets and drawers. Checking under the bed and every corner where he didn’t find any hint of the euphorine which the man would have bought. Of course, it was never for him but for the black witches.
“Unfortunately, your master has passed away. We’ll see what can be done with respect to finding that shadow which one of you caught. In the meantime, I would ask you to call his family and other relatives so that we can prepare and send the man away in peace,” said Damien returning back the glass. The servant looked sad, his shoulders drooping not that Damien cared.
Walking down the spiral stairs, something caught his eyes. It was a series of books that were placed in the rack in one of the rooms which came right after the hall. This time not asking, he walked forward and stepped into the room with the servant who followed him closely. Damien didn’t know why but having the servant follow him right now so closely felt nothing less to a lost puppy following him.
Ignoring the presence, he walked towards the shelves. If there was something that was intriguing about a mansion, it was the books the owner collected. His eyes raked in, moving past one book after another.
“I didn’t know, councilman Creed was a reader,” he commented.
“He loved collecting different and odd books.”
Odd? “What kind?” Damien continued with the chatter. Pulling out one of the books from there to read, the title inside read – How to grow a mushroom. Wasn’t that an interesting title.
“He liked collecting books regarding vegetables,” and that was strange? Asked Damien to himself, “Master Creed never ate vegetables, neither did he grow any,” the servant scratched his neck nervously for letting out the secrets of his master.
“What did he eat then?” Damien picked another book that spoke about onions. This reminded him of Penny. The more books he read the more vegetables he found. It was indeed an interesting collection of books.
“Only meat. Usually raw meat.”
