The Charleston Tale: E7

The Poison and the Attack

Part 1: The Poison and the Attack

In the current story, Falcon is a careful, protective Guardian who values consent above all else. This post takes us back to 2017, showing the trauma that cemented her principles: a letter from her maker, Arabella, that compromised her control, leading her to nearly kill an innocent man named Landon.

The Maker’s Regret

Charleston, 2017. The letter arrived on cream-colored paper, Arabella’s handwriting as elegant as ever.

Charlotte,

I heard you’ve been Guardian for over 160 years now. Quite the accomplishment… I’ve been thinking about us lately. About what we were. What we could have been if you’d been less stubborn, if I’d been less… well. We both know my faults.

I’m sending you something. A gift. Not to win you back… But as acknowledgment. You were right about love. About freedom. It took me 150 years to understand what you were trying to tell me.

I still love you. I always will. But I’m learning to love you the way you needed—from a distance, without chains.

Be well, my child. My greatest creation. My biggest regret.

—A.

The letter, meant to be a gesture of peace, instead unleashed a complicated tangle of grief, anger, and loneliness in Falcon. It felt like a bitter realization coming 170 years too late. Falcon poured a bourbon, then another. The burn was familiar, comforting. She barely noticed the bitter undertone in the liquor.

Arthur found her in the study three hours later, the photograph of her and Arabella clutched in her hand.

“She sent a letter,” Falcon said bitterly. “Says she understands now. About love. About freedom.”

Falcon felt exposed and unstable. “Part of me will always love her. And part of me will always hate her for it.”

She left before Arthur could argue, taking the back exit into the garden, her head feeling strange and disconnected. The bourbon shouldn’t be affecting her like this. Something was very wrong in her system.

Compromised Control

Falcon walked without destination, too caught in the spiral of her own thoughts and the strange fog spreading through her mind. Her control felt slippery, her instincts closer to the surface than normal.

She stumbled into the mostly empty Package District. She didn’t notice the other vampire until he was moving. Young and reckless, he’d been watching her.

“Guardian,” he said. “You look troubled. Can I buy you a drink?”

She should have refused. She should have recognized the setup. But her thoughts were muddy, her control compromised by whatever had been in her bottle at home.

He handed her a flask. More bourbon. She took a swallow.

The second dose of poison hit her system like wildfire. It wasn’t meant to kill, but to destabilize, stripping away the careful control she’d built over two centuries. Her vision went red at the edges. The hunger rose up savage and desperate.

“What was in that?” She grabbed the young vampire by the throat.

“Just a little something to make you more… agreeable.” He grinned. “Your progressive policies are hurting business, Guardian. We figured if you were compromised, if you hurt someone, the Court would remove you.”

Falcon shoved him away. “Get out of my city. You have until dawn.”

Then she ran, stumbling into an alley, trying to breathe through the red haze. The hunger was consuming her. She was losing control and couldn’t afford to, not here, not like this.

The Attack

Landon Moore had been walking for two hours, through empty streets. He was thinking about his wife, Sarah, lost three years earlier to a drunk driver. He walked because standing still hurt more. He was barely registering the world when something slammed into him from the side.

He hit the alley wall hard enough to crack his ribs. Pain exploded through his chest.

A woman was on him, impossibly strong, her face transformed into something from a nightmare. Pale skin, burning eyes, fangs extended.

She bit into his throat before he could scream.

The pain was immediate and absolute. Landon could feel his life draining out, could feel death approaching like an old friend. Sarah, I’m coming. Finally.

And then the pressure stopped.

The vampire pulled back with a gasp that sounded like horror. Landon collapsed, barely feeling the ground through the numbness.

“Oh god,” the woman whispered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—I lost control. The poison made me—” She was clearly panicking. “Don’t die. Please don’t die. I can save you but only if you—”

She bit her own wrist, offering her black blood. “Drink this. It’ll save you. Make you like me. Immortal. It’s a terrible gift…”

Landon turned his head away. He didn’t want immortality. He just wanted this to end.

The woman stared at him, then scooped him up like he weighed nothing and started running. “Stay with me. Please stay with me. I’ll fix this. I promise I’ll fix this.”

She crashed through the front door of the Battery mansion, Landon’s body limp in her arms, revealing the true danger of the Guardian’s world to her trusted advisor, Arthur.

What Happens Next?

Falcon has nearly killed an innocent man—an act that goes against every principle she holds. Her desperate actions to save Landon lead to a bizarre, unexpected negotiation where her victim, Landon, refuses compensation and instead asks to understand the monster who attacked him.