Chapter: Imagery

It was a clear Saturday afternoon, slight breezes but mostly warm, partly clouded but the sunlight was still clear and where the sky could be seen it was soft blue, the late summer colour. Jerry watched the sky, his head tilted entirely back and his cap turned to the side as they drove through the forest. They had just been cleared by the gate and had dived into the land of one of the most renowned political lobbyists in modern time, and here he was, the technical manager of the crew that was going to record a reality-show in the house of that very lobbyist. He had not believed the message at first when he received the call from his superior Mr. Hardy, director of photography employed at EEC, but took the challenge none the less.

Now, as they approached, his focus shifted from the sky to the tower that appeared as one of the first things he saw through the crowns of the trees, and then the rest of the mansion as they emerged out of the forest. The angel statue rose like a white spear, foreboding and eerie. The van he sat in was one of the last in the cortege. They had five more to join them Sunday morning. For now they had to get the gear inside and the main frames up and running before Monday, and seeing the size of the mansion, he knew it was going to be an immense task to cover everything from bottom to ground.

"Oh my god, look at that place," he whispered, his Irish accent rolling off his tongue, as they drove around the round plain and came to a halt at the entrance where six figures stood waiting. At first Jerry was unable to see who they were, but as he came closer, and from what he had seen in the media, it was Matthew Darklighter himself, his nephew and personal lawyer, Zacharias Csoatěk Darklighter, his sister and mother of Zacharias, Isobel, and the heir, Gabriel Jacques Darklighter; close behind Matthew two dark-clad formal-looking bodyguards stood with their hands folded on their back, presumably the most well-trained of the Darklighter Agents, Mathieu Nathaniel and Shade Letoile Phoenix Darklighter. The family was not only reputed for its influence on the financial, cultural and political world, but also the structure of the family was so strict and almost feudal in its being; the official appearances were rumoured to be well-planned by Matthew himself, and in the limelight, the family members always shone like celebrities, bleached smiles, perfect hair, stylish clothes and gossip about their drug-addiction.

What have I gotten myself into, he thought, as they came to a halt and the orders were given to get out. He looked up and around before closing the door behind him and watching Mr. Hardy approach Matthew half-way up the stairs. They exchanged words, but the order to unpack was not given. Instead Matthew stepped down a few steps and greeted them with open arms.

"Welcome," his voice rang out towards them and he began walking down along the line of vans, his hands folded behind his back, "to the Darklighter Mansion, and to us, the family, you're going to follow for the next four months. I understand that you have a lot of things to set up and wire, but I have a few messages for you before you enter this facility. First," he stopped and glanced at the crew members closest to him before proceeding, "you are on private property and your job is to record our daily lives. Going off into the forest alone, just to get some nice pictures or taking a stroll during a break, is considered trespassing unless you are with a family member or one of the house servants, who has authority to walk about in the woods. Second," he had gotten closer to Jerry and stopped again, "you have clearance to cover the four lower floors of the mansion, everything else is off limits. No questions asked, just documentation. If any problems occur, my nephews will be of technical assistance. Bring your gear into the entrance hall and please follow my head servant Rex to the rooms that you'll be staying in," he walked back towards the stairs where he remained. "You will dine after us and you will eat in your rooms. During your stay, you will witness both happiness and sorrow; there will be guests from time to time and large celebration. You are going to need all your skills, whatever type of operator you are. And please remember your place. You are visiting, your liberty has boundaries, and most importantly: be careful! My home contains old items of great value, some worth more than what you get paid in a life-time, so if you don't want to get fired for breaking anything, you will watch your steps and make sure your gear doesn't knock anything over. That'll be all, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome." He clapped his hands and the doors opened. Jerry imagined that this would be the sound of Hell's gates, if he was ever to hear that.

He looked up the façade of the building, noticing the small turrets, the details in the mortar keeping the stones together. His eyes swam with the magnificence of the place, the lines, the precision with which the entire structure had been laid. He shook his head as they began unloading their luggage and trunks of gear, but somehow felt his heart skip a beat when he ascended the stairs. His eyes glided discreetly to his right from where he received dark glances from Zacharias at first, suspicious but slightly amused, then a cold almost empty stare from Gabriel but ended up with a warm smile from Isobel who greeted every single crew member with a firm handshake and a "welcome" or "please come inside".

As soon as he walked across the doorstep it was as if the outside world faded and he stepped into a new world. The long lines of family members and servants lined up in a hall the size of half a football field was enough to remove the thought of the idyllic forest and sunshine outside. There was an eerie silence like in a library or a church. His eyes glided along the walls as he carried his trunk and luggage to the middle of the hall and looked up the stairs where the remaining family members stood, silent, vigilant. Matthew stood discussing something with the director of photography. He was clearly nervous but tried to remain calm in the face of his host. He turned his head and perhaps, out of desperation, he gestured for Jerry to come over. Jerry hesitated but put down his things and went towards them. He could almost sense the air getting heavier, denser, as he approached.

"Yes, Mr. Hardy?" he asked and glanced from Mr. Hardy and to Matthew, who smiled down at the low, sturdy Irishman.

"Uhm, Mr. Darklighter, meet our lead tech manager, Jerry Fitzgerald," Mr. Hardy said, almost dragging Jerry in between himself and Matthew. A slender, pale hand was extended. Jerry could not refuse it. It was cold and sleek, like a fish that had just come out of the fridge. He suppressed a shiver.

"I see, then you must be the one with the phone numbers for my nephews, but mind you, they are tricksters of the worst kind, I wouldn't invite them into my monitor room if I were you," Matthew said. Jerry tried to laugh, but it was more like a cough and he longed to get his hand out of the cold grasp. A few seconds passed before his hand was released as if Matthew had read his mind but teased him.

"Ah, I prefer my own team," Jerry said.

"Perhaps you would like to walk us through the mansion, tell us some of its history and show us the largest locations that we have to cover?" Mr. Hardy asked. Matthew smiled thinly.

"Of course. Let us start in the great hall. If you follow me this way," he replied and gestured for them to follow him through the corridor to the right of the staircase. As they passed the stairs Matthew made a halt. The crew members who had entered, paused in their tracks and watched the scene; it was almost like watching a military gathering.

"You know what you have to do," he said calmly addressing the entire household. The door swung shut as Isobel, Gabriel and Zacharias entered finally. The servants bowed, the family members nodded, and they broke up like a fountain starting its spray.

"That was... impressive," Mr. Hardy said. "I wish I had the same control of my workers." Matthew turned slowly, still smiling.

"Mr. Hardy, you will find that control lies elsewhere than in authority," he replied before he proceeded down the corridor. Jerry shrugged and followed Matthew down the corridor and to the east wing where the great hall opened up around him reaching further around him than the entrance hall did. Jerry drew out a notepad straightaway and began noting down the environment.

"So, Mr. Darklighter, sir, what's the story of this mansion?" Mr. Hardy asked, breath-taken by the sight of the great hall, the gold chandeliers, the red draperies, the tall windows and thick, black marble pillars and floor tiles.

"Oh, Mr. Hardy, starting such a story would be a dull tale," Matthew replied, his eyes glided lovingly over the hall, like adoring a child. "I can give you the short version. It was first erected in 325 B.C. but suffered terribly from a fire which spread from the stables in 1092. A new mansion was begun in the year 1214 but it took almost 400 years for it to be finished."

"Is there any history of deaths, possible hauntings?" Jerry looked up from his notepad. Matthew turned with a frown and slightly uncomprehending smile.

"Well, of course, Mr. Fitzgerald," he replied. "Many of our forefathers have died, some even committed suicide, hung themselves in the attic or drank poison in the basement only to be discovered years after their disappearance." He stepped closer, the smile widening, and again Jerry felt the air grow sultry. "There are several accounts of their spirits wandering the halls at night."

"Where can we expect this to happen?" Jerry asked and glanced at Mr. Hardy.

"Oh, I'll show you," Matthew answered and glanced at Mr. Hardy, who debated the thought of going ghost hunting in the Darklighter Mansion when the task was to portray the family. However, he did not get to argue before Matthew proceeded to guide them through the mansion.

•

Time passed and the shooting of the reality-show commenced. December came around slowly, grey and wet, barely a hint of frost in the air, and how Jerry longed for his task to be over. Strange things had happened once in a while, the other crew members speaking of seeing ghosts and getting awakened at night by the sound of children crying or laughing. Now, he stood in the monitor room. The director of photography, Mr. Hardy, was not happy, as winter and Christmas always looked best with a blanket of snow, and powdery flakes drifting through the air, making the scene as vomit-inducingly sweet as possible.

"Why can't I get snow!? Jerry, do something, you're the tech-guy!" Mr. Hardy roared. Jerry resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Mr. Hardy, with all due respect, I cannot create the setting you want me to, no matter how much you want it. This is not a studi-" Bang! The loud sound made Jerry spin around, worried. At one of the tables, he saw one of the assistants jumping around on one foot, as one of the crates with equipment had fallen on it.

Jerry sighed, partly relieved, partly annoyed. For the past few months, he had become more and more jumpy, out of fear for the humans who worked on the crew. He had accepted the task of monitoring the going-ons of the Darklighter family as the filming crew was present, but he had not expected it to be such an ordeal.

The Darklighters did not seem quite as keen on keeping their true identity hidden as one might have liked, and the crew was almost too clumsy to be healthy. How he had managed to keep them in the dark for as long as he had, was a mystery even to himself. He ignored Mr. Hardy, and started for the door, throwing a remark about lunch over his shoulder as he left the bustling room.

He almost walked headlong into Matthew, who had been on his way to the technical command centre provided for the production crew in the basement under the west wing. His hands were folded, like pale spiders entangled in a leg wrestling contest, and his icicle eyes prickled Jerry's skin; the faint sunlight fell through a window just behind him, lining out his silhouette. The smirk, legendary between the crew members already, flashed across his lips when he saw the young technician.

"Ah, Mr. Fitzgerald," he greeted him. "You're the tech manager, am I not correct?" his dark voice floated like a soft hum down towards the man who, funnily enough, carried his cap with the shadow turned the opposite direction of what was normal for a cap.

Jerry bit the inside of his cheek. He knew very well what his role on the team was, seeing as they had been present for close to three and a half months. And even if he somehow should believe the vampire lord before him had not learned of the different persons and their work in that time, then he was positive he had checked each and every one of them beforehand.

"Aye, I am, Mr. Darklighter," he answered none the less, with a small inclination of his head. He put a hand in one of his pockets, gripping a small rock he usually carried around. Whatever excess energy that may have spilled would now be drawn to it. It was a habit he had started the day he was given his honourable position as a Guardian. To live on the line between Light and Darkness was not an easy life, but he would not trade it for anything.

"One of your cameras has stopped working in the dining hall," Matthew said, but his eyes darted to the door behind Jerry. He was always the first to see an entire day's shooting with the crew, and just as he had told his dear nieces and nephews, so far, none had committed anything that could insinuate crime in the family, which was his primary goal while keeping them on a leash during the filming. He glanced from the door and back at the tech manager. He would not normally pass on a message like this, but the man's activities of late had left him with a questioning that needed answers.

"Thank you for the notice, I was just on my way in that direction for a bit of supper myself." Jerry half-smiled at him.

"Are you busy? I'd love to join you, to observe your work," he said. It was half past eight, they had already dined, but the young ones had planned a party in the ball room and Matthew had allowed them to, reminding them about the consequences if they failed to keep up the appearances for the cameras. He would be with them there too, to watch it, and he had already told the crew that they would need to back off, if the young Darklighters demanded some privacy. This was after all not a show about who could have sex with whom - of course not, they were a family! - but a show to display the daily lives and activities of the Darklighters.

"You can join me if you'd like, I don't mind." Jerry started walking down the hallway, striking up a conversation as they went to ease the awkward silence. "It is quite curious how the cameras keep on malfunctioning, don't you think? Perhaps it has something to do with the humidity..."

He prattled on all the way there, even though he knew most of the answers already. They entered the dining hall, and Jerry went to the stationary camera the crew had set up on a tripod in the corner. He pushed a few buttons to try and make it work, but he could not get it to react at all. He inconspicuously put the other hand on the camera as well, as if the keep his balance while examining it from all angles, and tried to sense the inside of the camera itself. He frowned. A dark energy had wedged itself inside the electronics of the battery. Looked like one of the Darklighters had done it again. Especially the younger ones seemed to like otherworldly pranks.

"Hm, the battery seems to be bust," he remarked in a theatrical whisper to himself. He quickly changed it, and the camera came to life with a series of beeps and whirrs.

Matthew had stood in the other end of the room, arms crossed, observing Jerry's quick, sensitive moves that absorbed every anomaly around his equipment. His gaze was firmly lodged on the man's face, the eyes narrowed to slits.

"But one of your colleagues changed them three hours ago and there is no leakage," he replied, moistening his lips before he approached slowly and took a closer look at the apparatus. "You didn't even open it," he indicated, as some sort of light accusation of fraud, but he smiled, a wolfish grin when he looked from the camera to Jerry. "I like your style. How would you like to come and work for the part of my business concerned with insurance fraud? I could use a man like you to document the proofs I need when my clients file for insurance."

Jerry stood with the sabotaged battery in his hand, bouncing it slightly, thinking the exact same thing as Matthew when the proposal for a job caught him slightly off-guard. He threw the battery in the small duffel bag he had over his shoulder. He took of the cap, smoothed down his constantly muzzled hair, before putting it back on.

"No thanks, I like my job quite a lot," he finally answered, a slight smirk at the thought of his real job. Matthew's eyes returned instantly to their squint, not sure whether to be surprised or offended by Jerry declining. He was now positive that this man was not just a man, but what was he then? He had not sensed anything so far, and the production was about to be rounded up next week on the evening of the solstice celebration. Was this the angels' doing, an under-cover agent infiltrating the Darklighters? But he had checked each and every member of the crew, and the closest someone was to even half a magician was three generations ago. Then again, magic was a curious thing. He hated Vladimir for mixing the damned genes into the human gene pool.

"Well, I understand," he firmly replied with a short nod when he heard footsteps from the little gallery behind him and saw Rose approach with her headless doll in her arms. Matthew had to fight the urge to turn her into a cloud of dust to disguise her when she stepped up beside him and tugged his pants, wordless, as she saw Jerry in the other end of the dining hall. She had been locked in with the others in the upper floors, but she was able to get out. Seemingly. It was not uncommon knowledge among the supernatural creatures, that genetic experiments had been conducted for centuries in his hidden chambers, to investigate different combinations of genes, and to monitor the effect of overpopulation in the supernatural society. But in public, in the human world, nobody knew anything.

He put up a half-hearted smile when Rose practically clung to his leg and glared darkly at Jerry. "Oh, excuse me, I think the youngest of my nieces has suddenly taken a stroll out of bed," he apologized and squatted down in front of Rose, shielding her from view as well as he could. "Rosie, you have to go to bed, darling." He stroked her hair and she hugged her doll even more. Wisps of its hair were still stuck at the neck, the rest had been cut off crudely with a jagged scissor.

"I couldn't sleep," she whispered with a pout, seeing now that she had done something out of place. "I tried to play with that." She pointed at the camera and Matthew glanced behind him, at Jerry.

"This ain't a toy, miss Darklighter," Jerry said with a stiff smile. He had met most creatures under the sky and others, frightening and fuzzy ones alike, but not many disturbed him as much as the little girl clinging to Matthew. The crew had not seen much to her, as Matthew seemed to keep her away for most of the time, and Jerry was not about to complain about that decision. Besides, even though the job as a camera-wiz was only temporary, then he had still grown quite attached to what he now regarded as his equipment, and the vandalism annoyed him greatly.

"You can't play with the equipment, darling, you understand?" Matthew's voice shone with authority. It had to, when addressing his "children". Rose nodded. "Now, off to bed with you." He shoved her gently in the direction of the door leading out of the little gallery and she shuffled out. He turned and smiled apologetically at the tech manager.

"I'm terribly sorry about her ignorance. She's not accustomed to strangers in the house, let alone items that do not belong in this estate," he said. "Now, you said you wanted some dinner? Follow me and I'll make the servants bring something up to the crew." He turned and as always quietly assumed that the lesser beings would follow in his wake.

"It's quite alright, she hasn't broken anything yet," Jerry dismissed, playing the oblivious card, and followed Matthew. "I don't recall seeing her that often," he said, gesturing back towards where they met Rose. "Where is she kept during the day? She isn't in front of a camera often." It all seemed like quite innocent questions, but the girl did not appear to know how to keep herself hidden, and she and the other dolls were dangerous to have in front of the lens.

One of his main goals would always be to make sure the humans did not find out who the Darklighter really were, and the dolls would stir up too much suspicion. On another note, Mr. Hardy had almost directly instructed him to try and dig up any sort of evidence for the accusations against Matthew for the kidnapping, raping and murder of the two Preston-girls. Jerry had had to make a tough decision: please his superior or risk the collapse of the entire supernatural community of Matthew was sent to prison. In the end, how little he had enjoyed it, he had chosen Matthew's stability over Mr. Hardy's wish to expose some juicy Darklighter secrets. He knew the rumours that even extended themselves beyond the supernatural community, and Mr. Hardy had also tried to persuade him to get some evidence of these activities, or at least archive the footage if it was cut from the episodes. There had been occasions, Jerry had to admit, where evidence was almost certain, but then again it all depended on who interpreted what.

"She and her siblings stay in their room together. I took them in when their parents died, and their roles in the family are irrelevant to depict," Matthew replied as they passed through the entrance hall where night had fallen long ago and candles were lit in the chandeliers. "Tell me, how do you like it here so far? There's a week left of filming, would you come back for another season, if you had the chance?" he asked as they came to the breakfast hall and proceeded into the great kitchen, almost industrial in size, because it had many mouths to feed. He stopped and nodded at Arianna, who was preparing dough for loafs of bread. She brushed of her hands, scurried over and bowed before proceeding to the fridge and grabbing what had been prepared for the production crew. Jerry silently hoped there would not be a second season. It was way to tiring, and he could not wait until this season's shooting was over. However, on the outside he gave a smile.

"I think it's a beautiful home you have, Mr. Darklighter." His eyes followed the small group of servants, which had been given the trays of food and were now leaving. "I might come back, as I already know the best camera angles and light settings," he finally answered. His stomach growled as a whiff of the food on the passing trays tickled his nose. "Would you care to join me for supper, or have you already eaten, Mr. Darklighter?" he asked. Matthew chuckled darkly.

"I see that you and your crew is busier chatting amongst yourselves to observe what your monitors display. I have already dined," he answered, "though I'd gladly accept your invitation. And as a matter of fact, why not bring your meal in the dining hall, now that we no longer use it tonight?" The kindly explained suggestion was followed up with a light gesture back to the dining hall. The crew usually ate on their own, after the family, but obviously being a tech manager did not call for much rest when the equipment kept malfunctioning all over the mansion. It was half an hour walk from one end of it to the other. A massive task, Matthew commented mentally.

"I haven't had much time to look at the monitors," Jerry said, dryly. He really could not wait until they were done, and he could go and write his report to Mallekhir in the Guardian Council. They entered the dining hall again, the camera blinking in the corner. He took a seat in one of the chairs, and gestured for Matthew to do the same.

"Have you considered what you want to do for a season finale?" he asked, and put a mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. Matthew sat down at the end of the table, as usual. He knew the camera was still on. A servant stood quietly in the corner of the room, a statue almost, but at the snap of his fingers the figure hurried forward and poured a goblet of wine for his master, not a word exchanged but a simple order as common as the sunset. But at the same time, the snap had disguised a shadow floating behind the camera and triggering it to malfunction again. It was not just Patrick and Marek that enjoyed teasing humans and the shadows surely did their job well, too.

"Well, as we usually celebrate Solstice and not Christmas, the 21st, it seems appropriate to use this as an occasion for the Darklighters to say goodbye in an orderly fashion," Matthew replied and sipped his wine. The servant had returned to his place in the corner. Jerry swallowed, and made big eyes, seemingly fascinated.

"You don't celebrate Christmas? But there have been decorations everywhere since last week!" He gestured to the walls, where holly and glass orbs fought amongst each other to be the most beautiful. "I wonder what Mr. Hardy is going to say to that." he grinned. The director was more than likely going to have a stroke when he found out his picture-perfect Christmas finale was not going to happen the way he wanted it to. Matthew laughed and nodded.

"The evening of the 24th I usually throw a party for my business relations and company partners, and my nephews and nieces enjoy Christmas. We have a terrific dinner, loads of wine and simple, plain family cosiness. No presents, no religious aspects, though I usually join the morning mass in Westminister the 25th," Matthew said but was cut off when Vladimir entered the hall. He glanced from the technician and to Matthew, trying to disguise his despondence.

"My lord, the weather report has just changed," he said with a sly smile, leaning against his cane. He had seemingly just come from outside, but there were snowflakes melting in his silvery white hair. Matthew raised an eyebrow and glanced out of the tall windows.

"Quite right you are, Vladimir," he said smirking. "Thank you." he nodded at his "brother", who left with a short snort in Jerry's direction. Jerry also looked out the window, where nothing less than a snowstorm was taking up arms. At least Mr. Hardy had gotten what he wanted, somewhat. He finished the rest of his supper, before standing.

"Thank you for your company. I think I'd better retire now, as the equipment must be checked at the earliest convenience tomorrow morning, as always." He had already noticed the camera not working again but opted not to mention it for now. A normal person would probably not have seen it yet.

"Good night, Mr. Darklighter," he said, and left the hall, heading for his room. Matthew remained in his seat and finished his wine before he left the dining hall. He could hear the young ones' noise from above and approached the ball room where two camera men were battling the effort of trying to mount their cameras fast enough to catch the entire setting. Matthew had ordered the young ones to dress properly, elegant but daring, in a fashion that could still invoke some suspicion amongst the public, when shown, just to spice up the rumours. Beaming smiles flashed in the soft light illuminating the ball room. Short dresses and clicking heels slid against the floor, expensive jewelry tinkled and a bar full of whatever could be served in a bar in town - and more - was lined up. He caught Gabriel's gaze, a short tell to keep a low profile and act as they had been told, and of course also join him when the party was over and he had busted up the camera in his own bedroom again. He could always "pause" it when he had gone to bed, it would never register anyone entering. Very convenient. He left thinking about the meeting with Jared the following day. And then the technician...

He stopped outside the small hall where the crew had had beds installed for each and every of them. He shook his head and proceeded. He would give him something to investigate later tonight. Besides, if he was a supernatural creature, be that Light or Neutral, he could expose him to some more fun, pretending not to know anything about his true identity and nightly adventures that he would label nightmares. Perhaps he could even get him committed? He would have to think about that one.