by Rashaad Bell
Chapter 18
As we proceed…
When a dream dreams a dream of itself dreaming, is it still a dream? Or have we just come full circle only to begin to dream again? Would that still be considered a dream or would that be considered nightmare?
I awoke to pain and darkness. No, let me rephrase that. I awoke to intense pressure against my body and the encompassing darkness that comprises it. Initially I tried to stand, but unseen weight held me in place, huddled close in the tight confines of blackness.
I tried again, this time putting in more effort, pushing upward with all my strength at the forefront, determined to free myself from the all-encompassing prison of nothingness.
It wasn't hard displacing the weight that held me stationary. Suddenly I could see again and with that, my hearing returned as well. With the return of my senses came the astute awareness that I was buried alive, deep beneath the burnt down rubble of what used to be the apartment complex where Connor’s safe house was located. It was destroyed of course, burned to a shambling husk of a thing. A normal woman would have died.
But I am not a normal woman anymore.
I pulled myself through the rubble, yet even with my increased...everything, it still took me considerable time to claw my way through the charred debris. The site had been quarantined off, the broken beams and blacked chunks of concrete still searing to the touch. These things burned themselves into my flesh as I maneuvered my way towards freedom, yet I still managed to emerge relatively unscathed.
The city was alive, backlit by a stunning full moon that lit up the sprawling metropolis with an almost eerie illumination. As strange as it should have been, the sight of a nude girl crawling her way out of a burnt wreckage raised hardly any eyebrows at all.
I needed clothes. Immediately. I ducked into the adjoining alley, passing a group of teenagers standing on the corner, smoking blunts and freestyling in a small circle. They laughed, made snide remarks and lewd gestures. Someone gave me the finger. Someone else decided to throw a half-full 40-ounce bottle of beer at me.
Just before it struck the back of my skull, I turned and caught it, drained the bottle fully, then let it drop to the concrete, the empty beer bottle shattering against the alleyway blacktop. The small crowd of kids erupted in laughter as I ducked further into the alley, beyond their human line of sight and found what I was looking for.
I reached down and picked up a small piece of broken cinderblock, flipping it over and over in the palm of my hand, testing its weight and then used it to smash in the driver’s side window of a nearby vehicle.
I opened the car door and climbed inside, wiping off the broken bits of glass that covered the front seat. I popped the trunk, then headed towards the rear of the automobile.
Someone was yelling out from their apartment window that overlooked the alleyway.
"Hey! Yeah you, the stupid naked bitch braking into peoples shit! Yeah, you buddy, I called the Cops! Put some fucking clothes on, them titties ain't that nice! I got kids up here for Christ sake!"
Awesome...
Like I needed another run in with law enforcement. Whatever. By the time they get here...even if they get here, this is Oakland after all, I'll be ghost by then, especially since I found what I was looking for. In the trunk was a spare set of clothes, nothing extravagant mind you, just a shirt that was a size to small and a pair of jeans a size to big.
Wish there were some shoes as well, but it wasn’t like it hurt to walk barefoot. I got dressed quickly and then I ran. Fast. Really, really fast. It was utterly amazing, the amount of speed I could garner.
Now I wasn't Barry Allen, Bart Allen, Speed Force fast, nothing that quick, but I was able to move unnoticed among the populace that was out an about. I learned that if I ran, then came to a dead stop next to someone, it was as if I just materialized next to them, appearing as some maligned apparition from nothing. Freaks people the hell out.
Pretty good for a laugh though.
I was faster than the cars rice-rocket racing down International Blvd, passing them with ease, the drivers never even taking notice. Unconsciously I made my way towards San Francisco, back towards Goodwin’s Townhouse to see if I could pick up any trace of Connor.
I began to slow my speed, coming to a more...respectable pace as I neared Pier 39, blending in with the nightlife. My thoughts were turned inward, plotting my next move and how I should approach the Werewolf Den without them catching my scent or revealing my…
“When was the last time you spoke?"
I paused, realizing the question was aimed at myself. I was in the middle of Pier 39, a quaint little shopping area tucked away within eyeshot of the infamous Alcatraz prison. There was a man, elderly by anyone’s account, British, though his English was somewhat…different.
I cocked my head at an angle that wasn't altogether humanly possible and made my way towards him. The question intrigued me because it was true; I hadn't spoken since, well, since before...everything.
The man spoke again: "How many people have you murdered tonight...Vampire?"
The last word hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest.
"Is that what I am?"
"Yes, Vampire, that is what you are and forever will be."
I was dumbfounded, yet not surprised. The signs were all there. The aversion to sunlight, the blood craving, the ambiguous feeling I had after killing that Cop. The man smiled at me, nothing insidious, yet it wasn't warmth inducing either.
We locked eyes for the briefest of moments and a hint of familiarity overtook me before he stood from his wicker chair and walked into some small, Mom and Pop, hole in the wall Bodega behind him.
I just stood there, uncertain of my next move. Vampire. Yes, that is what he said. Vampire. That’s what Connor did to me. That’s what he was turning me into when my mouth filled with blood. I didn’t know it was his blood! I brushed my hand against my stomach where the stab wound should have been.
I wanted to follow the old guy, my mind flooded with unanswered questions, yet curiosity killed the cat. However in this case, am I the cat or am I the killer?
More than likely, both.
No one heard our conversation, the world around me continued to carry on, content on fulfilling the next-next in their ever mundane lives. Yet my life was anything but mundane, rather it was its polar opposite, a topsy turvy ride with no seat belts, no brakes and no one at the helm.
I hesitated, not sure what to do next. My first compulsion was to follow after this white haired British man, to gain the answers locked away in that brain of his. Even as outlandish as his claims would appear to the uninitiated, his words struck a cord and now there was nothing left except to listen to the tune it played.
Casually, I made my way into the shop, a bell ringing inside the store when the door opened. I wasn't sure exactly what it was the Bodega sold being that there wasn't any price tagged items to be bought within eyeshot. Candles burned everywhere, the scent intoxicatingly potent. Books lined the wall and one could tell without any educational prowess that the texts where ancient.
"Why have you followed me...Vampire?" The old man sat at an intricately detailed mahogany table towards the rear. He stared at me with cold black eyes awaiting my response.
"Who are you?" I asked, not moving from the front of the door.
"And why would I tell you that?" He fired out from that decrepit little chair he rested in. He was wary, as well he should be. If a Vampire stood between me and the only exit, I might be a little cautious as well.
"If you could explain...anything at all about what is happening to me, I would eternally be in your debt."
His face softened somewhat, however his voice remained harshly accusing. "Forever is a long time, girl."
"Then consider yourself lucky I can't die." I replied.
The door behind me opened, a young couple, no older than twenty stepping inside. I closed my eyes involuntarily, the scent of their blood instantaneous
ly overpowering, their heartbeat echoing in my ears. I tried to block it out, to fight the blood craze that was burning in my throat.
It was happening again, the uncontrollable urge to kill, to drive my teeth into their necks and let their blood flow into me like some obsidian fountain of youth whose black waters promise life in exchange for death.
It was stronger than I'd ever felt before, stronger than the urge to kill that Fireman at my apartment, stronger then when I drained that Cop dry and left his battered, broken body discarded like last night’s leftovers.
The couple seemed oblivious to what was going on around them, ignorant to the fact that they stumbled upon deaths doorway and someone had left it ajar.
"I told you this wasn't the place." The young woman stated to her companion. “Looks like they only sell books here.”
"I’m telling you, this is it." He countered.
"Does it look like they sell shrimp here, Johnny?" She replied sarcastically.
I couldn't take it any longer. My teeth had sharpened. My hands, the tips of my fingers felt like talons ready to dig into their flesh and render their souls inoperable. My eyes snapped opened, I could see the old man watching, yet he made no move to intervene, gave no hint of a warning.
"Get out!" I demanded suddenly, speaking the words before I even registered the thought.
"Excuse me?" The boy was full of intentional bravado. Wolf tickets for the benefit of his lady friend. But I was in no mood for paper tigers.
"Leave this place. NOW!" This time there was more force behind it. Human force, because if I let my Vampiric side take the forefront...they would be dead by now.
"Look, I don't know who you think you are...”
The woman grabbed his arm. "Johnny, look at her eyes!"
Damn, they must be glowing. My body is kicking into full Vampire mode and I don't know how to stop it!
"Fuck her and her contacts!" The boy exclaimed violently.
Poor, poor Johnny Boy. I do not see this ending very well for you.
He went to speak again, to jab his finger in my face, but it was too late for him now. I grabbed his wrist with my hand, twisting it to the point of breaking, then beyond, the bones in his wrist crumbling like so much paper mâché underneath my fingertips. I gripped his throat with my free hand, hoisting him off his feet.
The woman began to come to his defense.
"STOP!" I commanded. She froze, graveyard still, eyes glazed over in a haze. "You will leave this place and NEVER return!"
"I will...leave this place...and never come back." She repeated in a dull monotone voice.
Johnny began to struggle. I squeezed his wrist even tighter. Something popped and he ceased fidgeting.
"If you EVER see me again, you will turn and run the other way. Do you understand? Because if you don't...you will die."
"Yes. When in your presence, death is eminent."
"That’s a good girl." I threw Johnny to ground, the fear in his eyes speaking trilogies without a single script being read.
"Leave this place." I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. This time there was no hesitation from them, no pause. They scampered towards the doorway into the night beyond and I locked the door behind them.
The urge to kill, to feast was so strong within me, so vibrant, that I knew it was almost next to impossible for me to get into another situation like that and the other person remain unscathed.
"I...apologize for my behavior." I proclaimed in all honesty.
The old man finally broke his vow a silence. "You showed immense restraint, Vampire."
I just shook my head. “No, no, I lost it. I almost killed that guy.”
“Almost.”
“I couldn’t compose myself. I shattered that dude’s wrist.”
The old man’s harden visage broke down somewhat.
“Sometimes you just need to check a bitch. Why didn't you kill them?"
I shrugged. "I don't know?"
"Lies..." The old man hissed.
"If I killed him, then I would have to kill her. And if I killed them both, there would be a high possibility I would have to kill you as well."
"There was a lot of death implied in that sentence." He pointed out wryly. "Do you still want to kill me now? Do you want to drink my blood?"
I took another step in his direction. "No." I said finally after giving his question considerable thought. "The answer’s you may have vetoes the urge of killing you."
He let out a deep laugh that seemed to just roll off his chest and encompassed everything around him. "Come. Sit with me, Vampire." He motioned to an empty chair at the table. "There is much for us to discuss."
I took a seat across from him, settling in easy enough.
“What’s your name Vampire?”
“Madison Rose, Sir." I was eager to begin our repertoire and open a line of dialogue between us.
“Such a polite Vampire you are, Madison.”
“I am a broken mold unto myself.”
“Indeed you are." He agreed.
“Who are you?”
"John." He answered. “John Rogers. That is what you may call me.”
I know that name. “I know an author named John Rogers. Younger then you, met him just the other day.” I stated.
“An author you say? Anything that I might have heard of?”
I thought for just a second. “Mythological Creatures in Urban Society.”
John Rogers smiled. “I wrote that book.” He stated. “A long, long, time ago.”
I simply stared at him, gazing at his wrinkled little face, reducing him in age in my Vampire mind until he was at the age of the John Rogers I met previously. As outlandish as it seemed, the resemblance was striking.
John is in possession of a Chaos Equation and is not limited by linear progression. He has born witness to the Forgotten Future and is now premeditated paradox. You would do well to heed his words.
“You don’t know me do you?” I asked.
“I’m pretty sure I would remember someone like you.” Was his reply.
“Do you still have that tattoo? The Chaos Equation?”
Now this caught the old man by surprise. He held out his hand slowly and there, plain as day was the Equation. It was easier to see this time, my Vampire eyes cutting through whatever static interference that had previously befuddled my human vision. He withdrew his hand, interlocking his fingers on his lap.
“And you’re sure we never met before?” I asked again.
“It’s clearly obvious that you know me Vampire.” Rogers stated. “And you possess knowledge of the Chaos Equation and its effect.”
“Yeah I do.” Conversations with John Rogers were never a normal affair.
John leaned forward. “Then there is only one possible explanation.”
You don’t know John like I know John. Did you know that the last time I saw him and the last time he saw me was only a couple of weeks apart, yet years past between us. Think about that.
My life just keeps getting better and better. “Because this version of you is from the future and you can’t remember meeting me because the past is somehow going to be rewritten.”
“Apparently, Vampire. The Forgotten Future Singularity is upon us.”
"How did you know I was a Vampire? I didn't even know that Con…” I paused, not sure how much this version of John knew, nor what side his allegiance fell on. “I didn’t even know my Maker was a Vampire until he told me and even then I didn’t believe him! How could you possibly come to that conclusion, just by looking at me?"
"Because I have eyes girl, that's how!" John laughed. "And I use them."
As overtly fascinated as I was, I was equally confused. "That...that just doesn't make sense."
John Rogers shook his head. "To you maybe, buts that's all about to change. Already did change. There's a whole Universe outside your front door, Madison. Just there, waiting to be experienced. Most can't, or refuse to acknowledge it. Instead, they
go through life with blinders on, ignorant to the clandestine events that are unfolding just beneath the veil. Then there are those such as myself that have caught a glimpse beneath the curtain. Once seen, it can never be unseen. Yet more importantly, once you know what to look for, you'll always find it."
"Yes, that all makes sense in a riddle me this, riddle me that kinda a way, but how did you know I was a Vampire? How would I be able to tell another one from a human?"
"It’s different from person to person. For me it's the little things. Morningstar is in the details. The eyes that shimmer yet don't. Subtle body movements, like the way you titled your head when we first met. Nobody human would do that, tilt their head in such an angle. It would be painful. But not to you. Plus it's the way you move. Just a touch to graceful. Your face, just a touch to smooth, Hollywood style, just a touch to mesmerizing. But for you, it will be entirely different. Your senses in retrospect are different from mine, far keener, sensitive and superior. You should be able to just sense their presence, yet it's clear that you don't. I am not a Vampire, so I can only guess at your limitations."
John stood up, backing away from the table. "Who did this to you?" He asked.
Without revealing too much about Connor or the reason we were in California I decided to choose my words carefully. How did I know this elder version of John Rogers wasn’t the one who put the bounty on my head in the first place? “I woke up like this. No explanations. No higher power. Nothing."
"When?"
"Last night."
"A Fledgling?" John seemed astonished. "Left to her own devices? Interesting."
"Do you know of any others like me?" I asked.
"One would say that there are no more Vampires left in the world. That the Vampire species as a whole is extinct." John Rogers explained. "Yet your very existence proves otherwise. You are a Fledgling, a newborn. Yet there can be no Fledgling without its Master, for how can a Fledgling be born without one? Madison Rose, I haven't seen or spoken to another Vampire in over five hundred years."
Despite my excellent hearing, I still must have heard incorrectly.
I was astonished at his revelation. Five hundred years? And that was just the estimate pertaining to the last time he witnessed someone as myself with his own eyes!
"How is that even possible?" I asked.
"An immortal that questions the plausibility of long life?" John rolled his eyes. "Next you'll be arguing the implausibility of gasoline as a fuel accelerant! Wake up Vampire! Smell the blood wine!"
"How did you manage to cheat death in this fashion?" I wondered aloud, literally star struck. “Was it all because of the Chaos Equation?”
“The secrets of the dead don't bode well for the living.” He replied.
“I don't fear death.” I stated.
John smiled. “Immortals rarely do."
"Shouldn’t you be frightened of me old man? Of what I could do to you?" There wasn't a hint of malice or contempt in my voice. "You know what I am. Clearly, you're aware of my capabilities. How do you know I won’t tear your throat out once I've learned whatever it is I came here to learn?"
It was a valid question. This man, this John Rogers who claimed almost five centuries worth of longevity, yet couldn’t remember when we first met seemed more amused than anything else, as if he was explaining color to a small child.
“You are amazingly self-restrained, Vampire. This night...could have gone down entirely different. You want to know why I trust you? Because you have gone through great extremes to prove that you can be. You could have killed that couple. You should have killed that couple. I wanted you to, the little muggle pricks that were, yet here we are. Having what could almost pass as a civilized conversation. There are things I could teach you, Vampire. Things that you must know in order to survive the new found existence that lies before you."
I contemplated his offer. His words seemed sound enough, yet each syllable seemed laced with multiple levels of devilry.
"And in return?" I asked. Nothing in this life came for free, not even love.
"An alliance of sorts." John responded.
"An alliance?" I scoffed. "I am Vampire! What possible need would I have to align myself with the likes of you?"
The old man couldn't contain himself. "Hahaha! There it is!" Laughed John.
I was confused. "There what is?"
"The Vampire inside of you. Malcontent. Brooding. Destructive, with a slight hint of douche bag authority."
"You said that there are no more Vampires. That they were extinct. What happened to them?"
"Some thought they died out. Others, hunted until the point of extinction, though personally, I think they just got...smarter."
"What do you mean?"
"Policing their own, killing those that drew attention to the others. That was their major setback you know. Bodies stacking up all drained of blood, fang marks on the neck. This was back when the Humanity Brood still believed in devils, demons and everything in-between. Then of course there were the Hunters. Men and women, dangerous and insidious these people were. They weren’t special, didn’t have increased strength or any magical attributes to speak off, well not inherently. For the most part they were just wives and sons, daughters and fathers, just regular folk who had lost someone close to them, yet that is what makes them the most dangerous. An enemy that feels he has nothing to live for, full of hatred and vengeance, tears and blood, all this pain directed towards whatever they believed wronged them…like say, a Vampire, there are many that believe your race was just decimated into extinction.”
“And all this is real?” I questioned. “Everything?”
“Everything is everything and everything is nothing. Even silence is a sound unto itself. You must find your place in the unseen tapestry of reality, yet not lose yourself in the stitching of the world.”
The man speaks madness, coated in riddles, dipped in sanity, served up in a conversational tone befitting a Sorcerer Supreme.
“You think the world or the universe itself made you what you are?” John Rogers took humor in this. “Foolish little Vampire, you’re a Fledgling if you’re a day. Your kind, the Noctol as they were originally called in the time before Christ, was a merging of science and of magic. An afterthought of the Gods, conceived, created and forgotten in less time than it took me to explain it. A remnant. A byproduct of the Genesis colonization.”
He had enraptured me with his words even though I could not comprehend their meaning. “The Genesis colonization? What’s that?”
“Before even my time, Madison Rose, yet some futures are best left forgotten.”
“Have you heard of the Translucent Man?”
John’s eyes seemed to display some sort of emotion briefly. “I’ve…come across the name in some of my travels.”
“Who is he?”
“Someone you would do well to avoid.” John said.
“Why? Is he here in California? Is there a way I can contact him?”
“You ask far too many questions, Vampire.”
I leaned back in my chair, absorbing all that I’ve been told up to this point. This man, this John Rogers who seemed subject to insanity if gauged by the words he spoke, yet since spoken to a Vampire, they may ring truer than anything I could ever imagine.
"Come with me.” John rose, assuming my complete compliance in the matter, not even glancing behind to see if I had followed.
I did of course and it wasn’t long before the nights air was cool against my face as we took to the streets. John walked as if the world belonged to him, faster than I would have initially imagined and even with my increased Vampiric speed, I had trouble keeping pace and still looking human in the process.
“Fire.” He called out randomly.
“What about it?”
“Stay away from it.” He replied.
“Too late.” I chuckled to myself, the morning’s events flashing in my mind. Vampire soufflé anyone?
John turned to face me, his
demeanor inherently more serious than before. “Pay attention Vampire, this is not some Frat house fraternity where the Deans rules are scribbled in whores lipstick across a chalk board by some drunken pledge with halitosis of the crotch. Just because you are immortal doesn’t mean you cannot die.”
John shook his head the way a parent would to an uncomprehending child. “Immortals, true immortals cannot die. You can burn them to cinders and scatter their ashes to the wind, rip them limb from limb, drown them in a vat of acid, behead them with…”
“I believe I get the point.”
“I sincerely doubt it.” John Rogers picked up the pace. “The Reaper, the Death Celestial, Thanatos the White Wolf, she is not a metaphor, Vampire. It is an Old-New World for you Madison Rose. Old, because it’s always has been here, lurking just underneath the surface, tearing at the fringe of reality. New, because well…this is all new to you, isn’t it?”
“The Death Celestial?” I whispered.
“You’ll meet them soon enough Vampire, just not right now.” John stated. “True immortals cannot be killed permanently, only neutralized…briefly. You however? No matter how immortal you think you are, a guy with a blowtorch, a plan and some intestinal fortitude could spell out a really bad day for you.”
“Fair enough.” I responded.
“Suicides heart sunrises.”
“Huh?”
With each word, John jabbed me in the chest with his finger for emphasis. “Stay. Out. Of. The. Sun. Vampire.”
I pulled my shirt up slightly, revealing a portion of my seared torso. “I think I’ve got the whole sun thing covered.”
“Hmm.” He came close to me, running his fingers lightly over the burn scars in a somewhat intimate fashion. “Little blood will clear that right on up.” He was off again, skipping along at top speed, yellow brick road style.
“Where are we going?” I yelled after him, trying to catch up.
“To dance with the devil in the pale of the moonlight.” Answered John.
“What?”
“I always ask that of all my prey.” We were in the middle of the warehouse district, nothing but office buildings and stockrooms as far as the eye could see. “We’re here.” John Rogers came to a stop so abruptly I almost ran into him.
I didn’t recognize my surroundings at all. “Where’s here?”
“Keep your brains on the inside!”
“What?” But he was already gone. I turned, full circle, scanning from top to bottom and everything in-between, but I was alone. It was crazy, but I just took it at face value. This was my life now. Blood lust, spontaneous combustion when in direct contact with sunlight and now, apparently random, time traveling old men who vanish while screaming, “Keep your brains on the inside!”
Like I made a habit of keeping them on the outside. It's only what all the cool kids seem to be doing these a days.
