Evilution
Page 3
We sat and talked for an hour, nursing our drinks. Alcohol has no effect on creatures like me; I would only have to purge later whatever I consumed here. I have, over the years, learned to be rather convincing in my consumption of food and drink. Most are fairly tolerable to swallow and bring back up in private. There are two things I will not ingest. Meat, when cooked becomes repulsive for me to eat, and also carbonated beverages. The constant popping of the bubbles in my stomach creates a sensation like hundreds of squirming worms in my gut. While neither would harm me or give me any sustenance, I have come to avoid their unpleasantness entirely. The only thing I need to sustain me is blood which I will need to procure soon.
The conversation was light; she shared with me the fact that Hills was where she completed both her undergraduate and graduate degrees. She told me of how it was the same class she was now teaching me, that changed the path of her life completely. Her teacher Dr. Derezinski inspired her to a career in Evolutionary science. He later became her mentor and the two worked together for several years on many exciting adventures. She expressed how she was enjoying the various opportunities working at the college afforded her. She talked of an upcoming trip she was planning as a winter break research opportunity. She was still looking for a few graduate students to work with her on her thesis: “The genetic explanation supporting the mythology of vampires”
This last sentence broke me from the trance she had me in. She misunderstood my reaction and instantly started to defend her ideas saying, “If you’re going to take my class, it is best to have an open mind and not jump to any conclusions.” I replied that “I definitely had an open mind and was simply intrigued by her choice of thesis topic”. Stunned would be a more accurate term. My level of desire to learn more about this woman, once a mere curiosity, now burned inside me with an all consuming heat.
I used the break in conversation to make my departure. I needed to think about what I was doing. The path I was now barreling down was becoming more curious every moment. Lily remarked that she had better pack up and head home to feed her dog and finish grading her papers. She prided herself on a rapid turn around of student work. “I look forward to reading your essay Maximillian. What topic did you choose?” “I chose to discuss the myth of the dragon and my theory as to why there is a lack of fossil evidence to support their existence.” “Excellent! I love the myth of the dragon. I look forward to your take on it. See you in class tomorrow.”
I would see her sooner. My evening routine of late has me perched in her neighbor’s maple tree, watching her read or work at her desk. I know I am invading her privacy, I have been a gentleman and only observed her while decent, but I can not help myself. Every cell in my body responds to her. It is like each cell vibrates with energy when she is near me. I must confess that I like this unique effect she has on me. In all my days of roaming this earth, no creature has caused the sensations I experience when I am near her. It is beyond a physical attraction; it is as if each cell in my body has a mind of its own and they all want her.
Chapter 4
In the Maple Tree
I have always felt at one with the natural world. As a child before transitioning, I would spend many hours up in my “tree house” in a large maple at the edge of my property. There was no house per se; it was just that the branches made sectioning off parts of the tree possible. For example, there were two branches that forked off one larger branch. They were my recliner. I could lay back with the seat of my pants at the base of the fork and the fork supported my back. I would lay there and watch insects moving around the tree. Some times I would sit so still for so long that a bird or a squirrel would come up the tree and not realize I was there. I loved being part of the natural world, immersed in it, not just skimming the surface of it as most people do today. Within my living “house” I had a place to lie down, a place to store my things thanks to some crisscrossing branches forming a nice shelf, and there was even an extra “seat” formed by a thick branch sloping up at an angle, if a friend should come to play.
Being in this maple, in this town so near to my place of birth was like coming home again. Long forgotten or suppressed emotions swam in my head. Something was happening to me. Something drew me to this place at this time. I could feel it with every cell of my strange being. Then, suddenly, a light was turned on in the upper floor of Lily’s house. I watch through the raised blinds as she greets her dog “Pumpkin”, rubbing under her chin and behind her ears. The fury beast bounces with excitement at the return of her mistress. With tail waging wildly it beats a loud drum as it bangs off the trash can or table leg. She pads quickly to the corner of the room where Lily just went, temporarily out of my site line. Lily walks back in with a bowl of food. Pumpkin follows at her heel. Lily stoops down and places the bowl for the dog who rushes in hungrily. The angle, at which the dog eats, brings us eye level to each other. The distance to the dog is too far for her to see me clearly, but she hesitates, eyes locked onto mine, a slow whine escaping her muzzle. I utter a slow shhh. I say to the dog, “It’s alright girl, I mean you or your mistress no harm. Eat your dinner.” I hear Lily say to the dog, “What’s gotten into you Pumpkin? It’s not like you to wait a blink to eat what’s in front of you.” Then the dog lowered her head and ate. It must not have been with her usual enthusiasm because Lily remarked to the dog that she hoped she wasn’t getting sick. The worry that crossed her face as she looked down at her dog made me feel guilty. If I was not observing them, the dog would have behaved normally and Lily would have no cause for concern. Lily gave the dog one last pat on the head and then busied herself with making her own meal.
I watched as she prepared some pasta with a fresh marinara sauce. I could smell the garlic and tomatoes cooking in the pan. Apparently Lily liked a lot of garlic. Garlic along with a few other spices like curry and cinnamon, linger in the blood, subtly affecting the flavor. The spices can do no harm to me. It is a matter of preference that a vampire may choose to avoid spice laden blood like I choose to avoid feeding on humans. Well, when I say I choose to avoid feeding on humans that is mostly correct. I have taken to volunteering at the closest local Red Cross where ever I reside at the time. I help out with arranging local blood drives. I take a few bags of blood. It only takes a suggestion and firm eye contact to manipulate the right person in to giving me the blood. You see, I need to consume human blood to maintain my human form. Without the human blood, my form starts to degrade into a more feral form. Likewise, if I consume other blood from other sources like one of my favorites; wolf, I take on certain qualities of that animal. This is one of the reasons I have had a connection to the dog. It senses me, but I do not think it trusts me. It is a long and complex story; the reality of being a vampire, the bulk of which I will explain later.
Back to Lily, while she eats. She appears to me to always be working. Even at the bar she had papers at her side and graded as she relaxed. Now while eating she reads. A small stack of papers remained beside her plate, the last of the essays. Lily, instead of picking up the top page, scanned the names on each page, until near the end she found the one she was looking for. As she pulled it from the stack, the paper turned and I could just make out the title typed in bold across the top, “The Myth of the Dragon”. My cells tingled with excitement. Had our encounter at the bar earlier today intrigued her? Had I left a good impression on her? What did it mean that she actively searched out my paper to read so soon after we had talked? Possibly it meant nothing, but it felt like it meant something. This woman makes me feel more like a school boy than the more than century old being that I am.
I watched as her eyes scanned my work. Her expressions changing with each new line she would read. Her emotions ranged from seemingly amused to contemplative, even pensive. From her facial expressions, it seemed she was enjoying my paper. It is not fair really. I have an advantage over the rest of the students. For one, I have been going to school on and off for over 100 years, so skills like
writing have become very easy for me. But most students would never get the chance to speak to someone who actually had seen a dragon like I have.
Approximately 70 years ago when my travels had taken me to a very old village in England, I ran into a fellow vampire. It is tricky meeting another vampire. One never knows how they will react. Since a vampire is really the top predator on the food chain, we usually do not feel threatened by anything, anything other than another vampire. Only a vampire could seriously harm another vampire and, if I were to make one feel threatened in any way, it could spell trouble for me. Luckily for me Han was a very old and wise vampire. He certainly was not fearful of me. On the contrary it was I who was scared. I was a relatively new vampire still trying to make my way. I was still struggling with the need for blood and understanding how my new self worked. That is for another time, the story of Han and I and how he changed my life. We spent nearly 20 years together traveling the globe. For a vampire that is but a brief moment in time when time lasts as long as it can for my kind.
During our time together Han told me of his life in Medieval England and how he once captured a dragon. He was going to drain it but instead decided to study the creature first. It was his recounting of his studies on the beast that I used to write my paper. Because I believed what I was writing was factual, it was easy to write the paper and make my premise seem plausible, because it was all true, at least according to my source. Han was very old. He never did give me an exact age but he would talk of travels as far back as the 1200’s so I can only guess he was ancient indeed.
As Lily finished reading, a smile spread across her lips revealing the slightly crooked front teeth that give her smile character. She wrote something on the paper I could not see from this angle. I would have to wait until the morning class to see what she wrote. But from her expression, I could tell at least she liked it. I wondered if she believed it. She certainly seemed to have the capacity to believe in the fantastic, “mythical”, creatures of the world. I looked forward to her comments on the subject.
I watched her for a short time more and decided that I had better get some sustenance. I was out of my stores of human blood until next weeks blood drive. I wanted to be alert in class tomorrow and it has been days since I last fed. I sprang silently down from my perch and was a shadow in the woods in seconds. I decided to go deep into the Adirondack Mountains and try and find a black bear or bobcat. I had coyote last week but I am partial to the larger game. It adds a little more fun to the hunt when you are hunting a top predator.
Chapter 5
Catch a Bear, Save a Life
As mentioned earlier, I have an affinity for the natural world. Running through the woods of the Mohawk Valley, even at the fast speeds I travel, I notice everything. As I navigate my way around Raquette Lake, I can hear the nocturnal movements of the many creatures inhabiting this land. I observe signs of beaver at the base of a tree as I pass, and smell the myriad scents left behind by the inhabitants of this niche. I follow the scent left by a bear. It is old however and I hope it leads to a worthy opponent. I meander my way through the woods tracking bear scent. I must be cautious as his path has me move closer to a part of the woods favored by hikers. I travel too fast for any hiker to recognize who or what I am. It is not the fear of getting caught that worries me. It is that lingering fear of when consumed by the hunt I might come across a human and my predatory nature may overcome my desire to live among the humans and not feed off of them.
As I continue hunting I note the changes in the vegetation as I climb towards the high peaks, and then I smell them. The bear is much closer now and his path has joined that of two humans. They leave their own lingering scent mixed with the smell of wine and marijuana. The female is in estrus, I can smell her fertility as a potent trail of pheromones are left in her wake, announcing to her partner’s subconscious that she is primed for mating. The male also leaves his own scent trail, a mix of perspiration, his own hormone laced musk and the faint smell of blood. Perhaps with the drinking and partying, he may have stumbled and gotten a small cut. The bear is following their scents and as I follow, the combined smells inundating me are adding fuel to my fire. I know the humans are in danger, the bear seems to be tracking them, but then again so am I.
This is a test of my reserve, my will power. Humans are easier for me to avoid hunting when I am in full control of my more feral, predatory instincts. However when I go hunting especially for top game, my body responds in a way that brings out my most primal instincts and behaviors. I usually like to let those instincts go when I hunt so that they don’t build up and affect my resolve to not feed on humans. So now here I am fully engaged in the hunt, my primal nature expressing itself to the fullest, teeth barred, venom dripping from my elongated canines, eyes void of any trace of humanity. Instinct urges me forward toward my prey. But what am I hunting?
I can hear the sounds of my quarry, the bear’s soft pant and snuffling sound his muzzle makes as he tracks the two humans is closer than the sounds of the humans themselves. It seems they have decided to stop and engage in some primal instincts of their own. I can hear faint splashing, the sounds of a babbling creek, and the moans of pleasure escaping the female’s lips as her partner whispers a litany of words in her ear expressing his ardor. The sound of the bear as his paws quicken their muted thump across the pine strewn forest floor, hastens my advance. And then I am upon them.
The bear erupts out of the forest with a roaring growl. Standing up on his hind legs, the large male black bear is easily over 7 feet tall and likely over 400 pounds. As he approaches the hikers, fear freezing them in their intimate embrace, I see the woman and for a second am reminded of Lily. This woman is obviously not her, yet something in the color of her hair or the tone of her skin gives me for a fleeting moment the connection to humanity that means the most to me. That instant thought of Lily sets me on a course of action. In a blur of motion, I run up behind the bear, my fingers arching upward as I prepared to strike a blow to the soft spot just below his last rib. As my claw like fingers sliced into the bear’s flesh, he let out an ear splitting roar. The woman screamed as she and the male stumbled back towards the opposite side of the creak. Unfortunately for the woman in her hasty retreat, she failed to navigate the slippery creek stones and slipped, landing with a loud thud as her skull crashed into the side of a particularly large protruding stone. The fresh flow of blood overwhelmed my senses. As I drew my hand back for another swipe at the bear, he caught me with his mammoth front paw and sent me crashing down to the creek bed.
As I prepared to rally on my attack of the bear, he turned with a ferocious roar and ran off into the woods. My foray into the creek helped to snap me out of my frenzied state. I saw the woman slumped against a stone in the creek, blood trickling down the side of her face mingling with the creek water and snaking its way down stream. The man was staring, likely in shock, from the edge of the opposite bank. I walked over to the woman and examined her injuries. They were superficial lacerations to the scalp. Head injuries bleed profusely even from the smallest cuts. The wine and accelerated heart rate would exacerbate this. She likely suffered a concussion, but the alternative was far worse.
I lifted the woman easily and moved towards the man on the opposite bank. He seemed to be trying to understand what just happened and grasp the realities of what he witnessed. I spoke to him, my voice hypnotic; I asked him if he had a car. He told me he had one parked a few miles away just off of the main trail. I reached around his waist and drew him to me; he just stared at me transfixed by my eyes and voice. I told him to close his eyes and, as he did, I took off towards his car. When we arrived moments later, the woman was starting to come to. I lay her in the back seat of the vehicle and told the man to take her to the town hospital. I then quickly planted a story of how the two were saved from the bear by a hunter who shot the bear and made it run off. I hoped my suggestion was enough to convince the man and also hoped that the crack
to the woman’s skull would be enough for her not to remember what happened. Either way, I wasn’t that worried anyone would believe the two. High on marijuana and wine, plus the trauma of the attack and my “suggested” story of the hunter, all made enough mess of the facts that my identity was safe.
I went back into the woods and tracked the bear to a den just south of the creek. The bear was cornered in its den nursing its injuries. I was hungry. I quickly disposed of the bear. No longer in the mood for the fight and not wanting to torture the poor creature any further, I fed until I was satiated and then I sat in the den to contemplate what to do with the carcass. I didn’t want anyone finding the carcass and drawing attention to the story the two hikers would have. As I sat and formulated my plan for disposal of the bear, it dawned on me that not only did I refrain from hurting those humans but I likely saved their lives. Again I thought of Lily. I buried the bear deep in the woods 10 miles from where I encountered the two humans. All the while I worked, I thought of Lily, her smiling face at the dinner table as she read my paper like an apparition before me.
I am not sure when it exactly happened, possibly the moment I stepped into her class on that first day or in the woods after that, or possibly before I even decided to enroll at Hills, but at some point I became connected to Lillian Bean. Could it be destiny, or the cosmic will of the universe, or some other force that had caused our lives to cross paths? The only thing that I know for certain is that somehow I am inexplicably drawn to her. Thoughts of her consume my every moment. Emotions that I have never had for any other creature make me feel both thrilled and confused. In all my years of existing, even in my early human childhood, I do not recall ever feeling this way. It is unsettling for me to have all of these new and often conflicting emotions running through my head. It is as if my body is at a constant state of high alert with every cell working in a coordinated manner to reach some unknown outcome. I am used to being in control, of my emotions, of other creatures. These feelings leave me with the sense that I am losing control. Historically when I lose control, bad things happen.