by Virgil Moore
He looked at the fancy clerk and immediately went with her, “show me the way.”
Her long flowing dress was a different version of the same style she had worn at the club. It revealed a tattoo of a white feathered angel wing that ran down the right side of her long back as she walked. Her hair shifted from side to side as she led him down the hall and to the elevator. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“You’re staring,” she commented without turning around.
“How can you tell? Are you psychic?” he asked.
“You hold your breath when you stare,” she made her point.
“No. I’m just refusing to look away,” he spoke quickly. He was intrigued as to why they were at the hotel and what secret she had to tell him in private.
“Are you ready?” she raised her hand to the floor selection panel.
He didn’t respond. He only smiled.
She pressed the seventh floor. The elevator rode up and opened to a long hall with only two doors at the end. Everything was more ornate. The carpet was newer. The walls were brighter. She led him to the door on the right.
He noticed there was a silver engraved plaque that read, “Kyli Waterfield.”
“That’s my name,” she smiled and turned the key to the door. “Come in.”
Chapter Twenty One
The Education
Six months transpired. Del had gone to law school. He was in his second semester of college, on his way to a full law degree in Richmond, Virginia. Demy felt full of pride for her soon to be husband. She was a good twenty six weeks pregnant and very happy. Mr. McHugh was happy. He was following the advice he was given. It was not his preference to become a lawyer at all. He was merely completing another task at hand. He needed to be something he was not in order to marry the woman he cared for. College was only a stepping stone to achieve that goal. He didn’t find difficulty in the material. He simply absorbed it and learned as he went. His vocabulary increased. He became a scholar in the eyes of his professors. Demy and Mr. McHugh were beginning to notice that he was no longer a simple farm hand. He had become a man of education, until one night, when his morality shaped the events of his destiny.
Each day after his classes, he studied and reviewed what the teachers had taught that day. Through self-review, he had managed to swing perfect grades. His methods were not so much thought out as they were methodical. He simply kept at it, earning him a high place in his soon to be profession.
Day to day, nothing much changed, until one night in the middle of winter. He was walking home from the Richmond campus just after eight o’clock at night. The sun had been down under the horizon for hours. The last study group had let out more than ten minutes before he had packed up. On his way out from the campus, there was a quick, but definite scream. He was one of the few people around to hear it. The sound was of a woman being attacked between two of the outer buildings. His heart quickened.
The smell was disturbing as him ran to help. It reeked from around the corner before he could see what was going on. He reached the woman as a dark figure dropped her to the floor. The woman’s body sloshed on the ground, covered in visceral fluid. Her throat had been torn apart. The little moonlight from the clear sky opened his eyes to the shadowy horror of this dying woman in front of him. It was dark. He couldn’t see who or what this other person was. He was able to make out only one distinguishing factor, white silvery hair. It was somewhat short and hung straight down, splattered with dripping blood.
He had intended on saving the screaming woman. It was a pure act that held no hesitation in his mind. He simply reacted to someone in need. As he looked down, the situation was clear. The pile of flesh on the floor was no longer alive. It bubbled as the last remaining remnants of air escaped from the woman’s lungs. A gurgling sound spit blood onto his shoes. The woman was dead, and now he was soon to be the next victim. He stared at the alien figure. He looked for a knife, something shinny that the killer might have slaughtered the woman with. To his confusion, there was nothing in its hands.
The shadows created a fine cloak that acted as a line dividing the space between them. It was inches beyond the dead woman’s body and the stranger in the dark. Barely any light illuminated them. Somehow it moved as if it knew what he was about to do, as it could feel his intensions. With each movement he made to advance, the stranger moved in. He slowly shifted towards the fallen woman. He felt watched as he made his way into the moonlight.
Before he could reach the girl, the darkness closed in. He intended on taking the body to at least be identified. He felt that no one should die without a name. Having her family know what happened would be the least he could do. He wanted dearly to fulfill Mr. McHugh’s second condition, the request of righting the wrongs in the world and making people genuinely happy. He considered this one act in accordance with those wishes. This was part of what he had to do to earn that level of respect.
The figure instantly pinned him to the wall with sudden and exacting force. Dust plumed off the well-built structure. The sound was painful. The feeling was unreal. A thin delicate hand held him against the concrete wall, outstretched by itself in the light. The light shown up to a black cloak the unknown person wore. It shielded the remaining body from past the elbow. Its sharp fingertips cut into his chest. Its white gleaming skin was unnerving in the moonlight. Blood dotted his white shirt. He watched as a pair of red eyes glowed from the blackness in front of him. It was terrifying. He was a strong man, fit and toned well enough to defend himself in an average fight. This was no fight. There was no contest here. This person held him with one hand outstretched, with little effort. He weighed over two hundred pounds. He was not easily lifted. The stranger managed to pin him solidly without any continued exertion. It was impossible. As inhuman as it was, it was happening. This one thin arm was killing him as it bore deeper into his skin.
He fought to gain a forward foot hold on his attacker, pushing against the wall for leverage. The stranger didn’t budge. They only kept an unrelenting pressure on his chest that seemed to be slowly increasing.
“I need to save her,” he was able to whisper.
A hissing voice spoke, slightly feminine, yet with a deep presence to it, “that woman is dead, you have nothing left to save.”
His lungs were being deflated. The figure was slowly pushing further, not waiting for a response.
He mouthed two words, ‘her dignity.’
The stranger dropped him immediately to the ground. He coughed as the figure stood over him. He spit up a handful of blood and painfully cleared his throat.
The voice, now softer than before, spoke again, “you would carry her back? To her town, to the rest of them? To preserve her dignity?”
He nodded.
The shadow let out an eerie laugh, shouting out into the heavens with an unreal tone.
He grasped his chest as he pulled himself over to the mangled girl. He checked for signs of life. There were none. There was only a corpse, nothing more. His hands were covered in the victim’s blood as he tried to lift her.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” the shadowy stranger laughed again. The same infernal feminine howl escaped its mouth, “you have a death wish to play with my first meal of the night. Is it really worth it?”
He nodded again. There was a pain growing in his chest, something was filling his lungs. He had trouble breathing. He clasped his neck. Blood from his hands further soaked the front of his shirt.
“You are diligent. I’ll give you that. Stupid, but diligent.” The stranger held still in the dark, just beyond the reach of the light, the same red eyes glared.
Suddenly the figure rushed at him and threw him against the wall again. Its pale white hand gripped the lower portion of his rib cage. Its fingers had pierced his skin. Blood flowed down his stomach, spilling over his belt and to the ground.
The stranger taunted, “do you want to die boy?” The figure leaned into him,
positioning itself inches from his face. It came into the light willingly. This was no man. It was a young woman with silvery white hair. She was thin and small, nearly a full foot shorter. The girl had porcelain skin, flawless to his sight. Her chin was small, her jaw pointed to a shallow angle. She had a large effeminate forehead. She was petite and gorgeous. The only part of her face that was difficult to understand were her eyes. They were a translucent red. There was a small pin of black in the center. The rest was a thin veil of red that he could easily see through. Her eyes seemed to shine in the moonlight. Her hair shielded part of her face, the white strands overlaid with blood splatters. He peered into the endlessness of her eyes and saw nothing.
He caught his breath, gasped and inhaled. He finally answered, “I will do what I need to.” Blood poured down his lips after he spoke. It flowed down his chest, painting a thick red streak.
“A curious reply, warranting an unusual course of action.” She took a hold of his neck tightly with her left hand.
He was suffocating.
She was preventing him from breathing. “You will do what I need you to. I will make sure of that. I will turn your flawed sense of mortality into your curse. You will be forced into a grave scenario to which there are few solutions. You will forget me. You will never speak of me, and you will not witness the measures I take to ensure this.”
His mind became hazy. It faded to black. The white haired monster watched him pass out, making sure he was unconscious before she loosened her grip on his throat and chest. He fell to the side, motionless on the ground. She opened her mouth, baring a set of large fangs. She came forward and further into the light. She bit into his throat, sucking and drinking most of his blood, nearly leaving his veins dry. She raised her left arm and placed her hand in his mouth. With a quick motion, she struck his jaw upwards. The trauma forced his teeth into her flesh. It caused her blood to draw into his mouth and down into his body. She pressed on his stomach and chest to force it through his system. He unknowingly drank her cursed blood.
“You will be something none of us will,” she removed her hand and wiped his mouth. “A walking contradiction. A paradigm.”
Chapter Twenty Two
The First Truth
“It’s a bite,” Kyli said the moment Zack closed the door.
“How did an animal bite you in the neck?” he dodged the obviousness of the question and wanted to let her tell him instead.
“It wasn’t from an animal,” she put her keys on the kitchen countertop.
“Was it mutual?” he probed.
“You’re quick,” she smiled as she gestured to her leather couch and sat. “And no, it wasn’t.”
“Then I take it you’re not involved with him anymore?” he sat down next to her.
She laughed a bit, “it’s not like that. He attacked me while he was looking for you.”
He was silent. He thought about what she had said.
“I said he attacked me because of you,” she repeated.
He looked at her blue eyes again, “I heard you. But how can that be? What would he want with me if you were right there?”
“I told you that you were different Zack. I meant it,” she took a deep breath and thought about the consequences of what she was about to say. She weighed them and thought how much harder it would be if she didn’t explain. “You’re not human.”
He heard the words. It didn’t register.
She could see this wasn’t going to be easy. She leaned into him. She pressed her body against his and looked into his stunning eyes. She moved into him and touched her cheek against his. That same electricity was there. It coursed through her as she came closer to him. She let her lips slide over his cool skin. She kissed his neck.
She took a deep breath and whispered into his ear, “relax. It only hurts the first time.” She pressed her teeth into his neck. Quickly and suddenly her fangs pierced his skin. Blood rushed from his neck and into her mouth. He couldn’t move. Her warm hands pinned him to the couch.
Chapter Twenty Three
The Small Things
The creature stood facing the east. He had fed well that night. The armor was pleased, he was content. The sun was about to rise. It was reaching the edge before dawn. Pink hues filled the sky as the white began to fade from his eyes. The black plates receded back into his skin. Slowly, steadily, he regained his human facade. His long black hair let out as he stared at the warm colors that shifted before him.
“The small seemingly insignificant things that I remember about that night. The way her hair swayed. The expression on her face as I held her hand. The lingering smell of the blood on her neck. Everything was so perfect back then,” its voice bellowed out across the rooftop, echoing into the street below.
Yellow and red crept up as the light shown brighter in the clouds. The peak of the sun was rising further, calling with it the start of a new day. It was another moment he would feel as he had ever since he had become what he was now.
“It all changed after that first bite. My life, my world. Everything that I knew to be right was shattered and replaced by a hidden truth that no one ever dared to search out,” it said to itself as the sun rose up.
It happened slowly at first. Small crackles of blood crisped in its skin. The thin layer of blood hardened and flaked. Then it hastened, bursting into flame in a fire ball that wafted into the heavens all at once. But the creature didn’t burn. It didn’t feel any pain, any sensation of the stark and defining event. In a flash the remaining blood that had coated him was gone. He stood naked on the roof. His toned body belonged to a man in his late twenties. He was handsome and exotic with his long hair. The fire had only consumed the blood, nothing more.
He stared at the sun as it warmed his body, “the little things that I never knew until that first lie.”
Chapter Twenty Four
Lies In Truth To Save A Life
The sting in Zack’s neck was temporary. It was strange, he knew he had been bitten, but that wasn’t what bothered him. It was the pressure. Kyli’s lips on his skin, her hands on his shoulders. The weight expressed on his body was unreal. It didn’t make any sense.
He panted under his breath, “How are you doing this?”
She stopped. It was a fairly direct question. She wasn’t used to someone asking such a thing after she had bitten them. She left up off him and watched the wound on his neck.
He wasn’t sure what to do. He was light headed and the thought of standing up made him nauseous. He sat only inches from her, his leg still pressed to hers. He felt his neck. There were two smell holes that were slowly bleeding. “Why are there only two?”
She chuckled a little. Such direct and straight forward questions. He was so unlike anyone she had ever met before. It begged an answer. “Because of these,” she smiled wide and showed her two long fanged teeth to him.
“Are you a vampire?” he asked in disbelief.
She was impressed, “no screaming, no asking why the hell I would bite you. Just a simple question if I’m a vampire. You are different Zack Giver, you are very different.”
He held a little pressure to his neck.
“No, don’t do that. I want to see if it will stop on its own,” she asked him with a friendly gesture. She realized her fangs were still showing. “Sorry.” She closed her lips and exhaled. “This should help,” she smiled. The fangs were gone.
“So you are a vampire.” He took his hand away from his neck as she requested.
“Not exactly,” she stared at the wound on his neck. It hadn’t stopped bleeding. “But before that, I need to tend to that.”
He was a bit confused. She was the one that had caused it in the first place. He had heard about vampires of course. The fictional tales of blood suckers that whisk away people in the night and drain them dry of blood by morning. She had definitely whisked him away. And she had tried to suck his blood, but she wasn’t trying to kill him. That part was differen
t. He didn’t feel any menace from her. There was only that warm caring touch he had felt every time he was near her. Whatever she was, she didn’t plan on killing him that night.
She walked over to the kitchen and took out a crystal glass with a dark red liquid in it. She walked back over and checked his neck, it was bleeding down his shirt. “Here, this will help.”
She dipped her finger into the red fluid and dabbed it on his neck. It was soothing and cold. The pain was gone. It was replaced by a new unknown scent that filled his mind. It wasn’t as strong as the one he’d smelled in the car, but it was close. It wafted off her fingertips as she took her hand away from his neck and sucked on the tip of her stained finger. Her red lipstick matched the dark ruby color.
“Is that blood?” he asked as she continued to stare at his neck.
“And if I say yes, will you believe me when I say I’m not a vampire?” she waited for a response and she kept her eyes on his neck.
“Yes,” he said softly to her under his breath. It was almost said more to himself than to her. A kind of reformation to understand what was about to happen.
The wounds instantly closed on his neck before her eyes. She smiled again, “good, it worked better than I hoped it would.”
“What did?” he asked as he instinctively checked his neck. He couldn’t feel the puncture holes anymore.
“See for yourself. The bathroom is at the far side of the room. She pointed to an open door.
He rushed to the mirror and stared in shock as he wiped away the blood. There was nothing there. The wounds were healed. “What was that?”
“Blood,” she stood up and walked over to him, standing in the doorway.
“You mean vampire blood?” he questioned her as he tore his eyes away from his neck and stared back at her.
