Chapter 16
There was a man in Holland who caught my sister's eye. To say he was cruel means nothing. We were all cruel. His name was Jochem, and he considered each act of brutality a masterpiece. He had many lifetimes to practice and perfect and outdo each wondrous infliction of pain and humiliation. Jochem was displeased with death, considering it a meaningless escape. He would spend many long nights experimenting on those he had sired, for humans were too fragile. The King and Queen always looked forward his public exhibitions.
Debra became the object of Jochem's affections, and he of her's. The man was sophisticated and magnificently charming. Very few could match his intellect. Where Debra would walk, he would follow. He showered her with praise, and even extended courtesies to Angie and myself to gain approval. Although relationships were frowned upon in the Dutch palace, they were not forbidden. The couple were still expected to share, but they were also granted some privacy as well. Debra and Jochem started to be referred to as "they," and would always speak as "we."
After three years of courting, which is but a drop in a river for a vampire, Jochem decided to show Debra his "special place." She was taken below the palace and into an endless series of tunnels. The navigation, my sister recalled, was difficult, but Jochem knew his way. In the lightless recesses of the under-Earth, Queen Debra was brought to a room of questionable shape. There were too many alcoves to guage the actual size. She remembered being impressed but slightly unnerved by the tools and instruments Jochem showed her. He even used a few on the chained captives so she could see for herself the effects they had. Debra had to cup her ears a couple of times because of the noise.
It was in this darkened catacomb Queen Debra became a Queen once again. Through all of the horrors she had witnessed, nothing had brought her compassion back. That changed with two simple words she had not heard for a very long time. From a corner, a hand was raised. The nails were cracked. Blood was dried many times over. The voice was broken, choked on tears, but still it managed to plead "Night Mother."
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