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There remained over an hour before the locking mechanism would release on the cooler's panel of the hibernating youngling. This gave the elder vampire a modicum of time to develop a plan to deal with the youngling straight away. The presence of the collar, placed as it was among the youngling's affects, indicated the necessity of its use. However, not all feral younglings required so heavy a hand as to warrant regular use of the collar. Still, the elder did not want to take any chances. The youngling may know something of what occurred in the manor, and the elder would feel rather put out if he missed the opportunity to acquire this information. Provided the low likelihood of the other vampires surviving their hibernation with their mental faculties intact, this youngling may prove to be the only source of an accurate history of what transpired.

The reality of the situation irked him. He hoped to wake with ease, and gradually reenter life among the coven. Now he was plotting to wrangle a feral youngling after having circumnavigated the remnant chaos and destruction of his home. There was little choice in the matter. He could just leave, but without any awareness of what prompted the chaos and destruction to begin with, he might likely meet a fate similar to those of his predecessors. Nay, it was best to handle this directly.

From within the barrows, the massive and heavy door relied upon a mechanism to open and shut. As the door was closed, tripping the mechanism caused it to open. The elder did this now, and once open, he stepped over the threshold and proceeded up the stairs to the floor above. This is where the human farms were kept, where those willing humans were laid to rest for a few days at a time while their blood was harvested in small amounts at regular intervals. The landing on this floor ran the entire circumference of The Column. Along this landing were four massive doors at the four points of the compass, all similar to that of the barrows below. Each opened onto a large hallway from which various rooms extended. A long circular hallway, concentric to The Column, connected all four sections, so it mattered little what door and what section anyone entered. The elder approached the closest one and began the process of opening the door. The mechanisms here also remained in good working order, and the door laid open before him after a few moments.

He stepped into the main hallway and moved forward with purpose. Though the security measures were exceptional, the quarters leading off from the hallway were designed for comfort; only the elders' quarters rivaled the lush environment found here. Most humans were reticent to willingly support vampires via the donation of their blood. Those who did, however, found themselves guests of an elaborate resort. His people pampered those humans who came willingly, and those humans often returned after the waiting period imposed upon them by the physicians in the vampires' employ. When the resort was running at capacity, the blood harvested over the course of a few days was enough to keep the whole of the coven well-fed for nearly three months. As this was an ongoing operation lasting decades, and as there was never any lack for humans wanting a few days vacation, the coven boasted stores of blood which would last for centuries. Hence the refrigerated store rooms below.

Continued after the break

This was all fine but irrelevant to the elder's purpose. What need had he of plush robes and expired cucumber face masks? At this moment, the resort was unnecessary. What the elder came for were the cells at the far end of the hall; feral younglings were often brought here and locked away, kept in close proximity to the flesh they so desired and unable to enjoy any of it. In this way, they were desensitized to the overpowering draw of the blood running through a human's veins; eventually, they could be let out to mingle with humans lounging around as their blood was harvested. At first, on-collar, and then without the collar when they proved themselves well-behaved. The elder proceeded to examine the cells in question.

Much to his satisfaction, he found the cells intact. It took him some time to locate the controls for the doors, and upon finding them, it took him a bit longer to figure out how they worked. But work they did. The cells were housed in a compartment comprised of thick polycarbonate panels set into the wall of the large open space in the rear of the resort. To access the cells, a security door opened onto a small hallway running concentric to the outer wall. Everything except the security door was polycarbonate, with two rows of coin-sized holes punched at regular intervals across the center, spanning the length of the cells. The purpose was two-fold: the feral younglings could acclimate to the presence of humans, as mentioned above; and the humans could acclimate to the realities of the vampires' existence. By the time the younglings were free of their collar, both humans and younglings were quite at home with one another.

The elder set the security door to remain open, along with the door to the first cell in the row, and returned to the barrows. His time was almost up; the locker was set to pop open shortly, and he would have only a small window of opportunity in which to confine the youngling with the Screech collar. He hurried out of the blood harvesting resort, down the stair, into the barrow, grabbed the Screech collar from youngling's affects, retrieved the packs of blood from the alcove, and managed to arrive next to the locker just as it began to open. The coffin slowly rolled out. The youngling's head was revealed first, which the elder found convenient. The youngling, however, was awake, which the elder found inconvenient. Flustered, but focused nonetheless, the elder was quick to snap the collar around the youngling's neck as they attempted to rise. Their hands immediately shot up to the collar, as if they had the capacity to remove it, but it was too late. The youngling cast a sour glance at the elder who returned a frown. This gave him no pleasure.

"Stand," said the elder, with authority. Nothing happened. The elder cleared his throat, and repeated the command, pitching his voice slightly, to be registered by the collar. The collar went to work, compelling the youngling to obey. The youngling carefully stepped out of the coffin and stood silently beside the elder, though their lack of sustenance caused them to waver. The elder held out the packs of blood before the youngling.

"Feed."

The youngling needed no compulsion on this command to acquiesce, yet the compulsion from the collar came nevertheless. They tore into the first pack and practically drowned themselves in it, holding it overhead and letting the blood pour into their open mouth, spilling over their face, over their shoulders, over their body. As messy as this was, not a drop spilled to the floor; their body, hungry for blood, was fast in absorbing it. With the first pack consumed with complete irreverence, and their hunger slaked to some extent, they drank from the next pack with more composure. The elder waited patiently as they finished feeding. When the last pack was consumed, he said:

"Follow."

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