This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product s of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental
This book is dedicated to my children Leilani and Tristan. To my husband for having the patience to put up with me while I worked on this project. A special Thank You to my little big sister Andrea for taking the time to read portions of my book. Finally, I want to thank everyone who supported me during this project. I promise there are more books to come. This is just the beginning of a long journey.
Contents
PROLOGUE
1: THE DISAPPEARED
2. THE SEARCH
3. BRING ME TO LIFE
4. TITANIUM
5. HEMORRHAGE
6. FOR WHAT IT IS WORTH
7. MAD WORLD
8. HERE WITHOUT YOU
9. PARADISE LOST
10. MY ACHILLES HEEL
11. VILLA DE SELENE
12. SWEET SACRIFICE
13. MONSTER INSIDE
14. MORE THAN WORDS
15. HATE ME
16. LITHIUM
17. COUNCIL
18. CAT AND MOUSE
19. I HAVE NOTHING LEFT
20. MY IMMORTAL
21. DARK ANGEL
EPILOGUE
The word Evanescere is the latin word for Evanescence meaning to fade; vanish; and disappear
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For the life of the flesh is in the blood: and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls: for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.
Leviticus 17:11
PROLOGUE
W
ATCHING LIFE PASS ME BY THESE days and I realize how pathetic this world has become. People missing, dying, the world in total chaos and there is no saving it. I smile at the irony of my own thoughts since I happen to be responsible for a small part of this problem.
I see the flyers around the towns, flyers of myself. Correction of who I used to be. It is a constant reminder that my family has not given up on finding me. I have to constantly remind myself to go forward and forget. It is easier said than done. You don’t ever think of your actions when you are doing them only the consequences of them after the fact.
My decision to stay away is torturous but it spares my family. I sometimes wonder if there is a way to be there without breaking the rules. We have one major rule to live by: Secrecy.
I push the thought away and stalk my prey, in the dark, melee of the Big Easy. “Focus,” I tell myself. At times I forget my nature and consider myself more of a vigilante. As I walking the lighted street of Bourbon in the French Quarter, I scan the minds of the crowds trying to find the one. I snap my head around and focus on his thoughts and I see the girl in his mind. So young and vibrant. Her dark skin glistening under the neon lights.
“No!”
My mind screams for release but I know I have to do this discreetly. I have waited patiently for this one. Suddenly his thoughts shift and I can hear his plan. He will do to her what has been done to me. So quickly I am near him and I can taste my prey’s emotions in the air and I realize he is about to strike.
In an instant, I am in front of him. Much too fast for human eyes, I see his confusion. He had not spotted me in the club. He would have remembered me. I have not yet tasted his fear. With a quick sultry smile and a hello. I know he will fall for it, they all do.
“Who can resist me?” That would be my ego talking. His thoughts are no longer on the girl and his focus has shifted to me a beautiful and all too willing woman. I hear her thoughts and realize she thought he was cute, and her disappointment when he leaves with me. I wonder if she knows how lucky she is this night. Suddenly his mood has shifted, but it is not the fear I was hoping for. It was the anticipation of the game we will partake in. He sees me as his prey. He sees me as a win, better than the girl. I whisper in his ear and he follows me down the lighted streets and into darkened streets of the Red Light district. No decent person will be caught dead out here, but I am not decent, now am I.
In the dark streets of the alley, I kiss him, slowly tasting his life. I have to hold back the urge to take his life right now. I enjoy playing with my food about as much as he does. I know after tonight someone else will be there to take his place. For however briefly the streets will be safe.
I turn to him and push him up against a brick Creole styled building. He is lost in thought of how lucky his night has been. As he is lost in thought I strike. I bite into his soft warm neck. I taste his blood, so warm and delicious and it revives me. I feel him relax beneath me as death slowly approaches. I suddenly feel anger but I continue to feed. From a distance any passerby would think we are but two lovers.
If the women of New Orleans only knew what fate, I had saved them from? This man deserved worse than what I gave him. He deserved to suffer for what he has done not only to me but to every woman he has harmed. I just happen to be the lucky one if you could call it that.
When I finish with my prey I want to give in to the anger I suddenly feel. He did not fear me. It felt as though he embraced death with open arms. Oh well. They can’t all be the same. Slowly I lift him into my arms and run at great speed to the Mississippi River and slowly place him in warm waters. In the morning he will be found and he will be listed as another casualty of the Big Easy.
You would do well to remember nothing good ever happens after midnight. I take one last look at him, dark curly hair, baby faced, young, he could be handsome if he wasn’t what he was. A danger to all women….
1: THE DISAPPEARED
I
AM SO EXCITED TO BE GOING TO NEW ORLEANS, it is going to be a great time, hopefully. I know I am not twenty-one any more, but I honestly don’t go to party. I’ll have a few drinks every now and then, but not the way most people do. The ones who drink themselves into oblivion in order to suffer from temporary amnesia and insanity. That has never been me.
In reality I go to New Orleans for the experience, the excitement of just being there is amazing. Every time I go to New Orleans it is a different experience, you never know what to expect. My mind is going a million miles an hour just like a child in the candy store. I know what I want to do but oh so little time.
I hop in the car. I feel proud of my car, a red, slick Camaro, and oh so fast. My husband gets in the passenger side and I know with him in the car I will have to keep to the speed limit. There is something about speeding that is amazing, exhilarating, my husband tends to always play it safe. The fact that we are polar opposites is what brought us to this point.
We left the children with my parents for the weekend, this is supposed to be more of a rekindling get away. I was surprised when my parents arrived at my house last night. Apparently my parents and Axel schemed for this getaway. I am not complaining, just surprised. It was a spontaneous idea.
My husband, Axel, and I had been having some issues lately, only because we seemed to be going in different directions. I want so much more from life than being a stay at home soccer mom. I want adventure, excitement. I remember when we first met eleven years ago. It felt like love at first sight if you can believe it. Axel was in the military at the time. He was fit muscular and funny. At six foot he was an imposing figure, that scared me. If he had not been the first one to crack a joke, I would have been running for the hills without a backward glance. Instead, his relaxing nature made me pause for a minute. He charmed the hell out of me.
Later on, when the kids came along, things began to change. We no longer went out anywhere, we no longer had fun. Life was about working Monday thru Friday, and taking care of the kids. Even wh
en Axel is home he never wants to go out and have fun. Axel is a homebody. When you have kids it is difficult to maintain the reason you fell in love in the first place. You just forget what brought you together in the beginning. I am stubborn and never give up and Axel is the same. I suppose this is how we got to this point in our lives.
A few years ago, I started to see my life slowly pass me by, and I began to question my purpose, my existence. I was just a zombie going through the motions. No one ever asked me how my day was. I needed grown up contact, which when you have children is few and far in between, when your friends don’t have children. My life began to feel bleak, this is what my life had become. Life had become about quickies, laundry, and kids. I envied the Axel. I envied the fact that he could get ready to leave, while I still had to get the kids ready before myself. I envied the fact that he could sleep in and relax. Sometimes I wondered if we had rushed into getting married and starting a family. But then I look at my kids and wouldn’t want it any other way. I sacrifice for them to be happy.
I bring my thoughts back down to earth and focus on driving. The four-hour drive is beyond beautiful. I get a glimpse of the giant Pine trees and Spanish Moss; the view is scenic. I am feeling ecstatic and nervous driving the I10 right at the never-ending bridge. I lower the window to feel the air. The air is crisp and I can smell the faint smell of rain. The road is a little wet. It must have rained early in the day. I notice that the Louisiana sky still looked a bit on the gray side. The clouds were low and heavy. It reminded me of the old saying by Syrus rolling, like a rolling stone that gathers no moss. It tends to rain a lot here, at times out of nowhere. It is part of the attraction and our decision to move to Orange, Texas.
We had been in Orange for about five years now. It was beautiful. When they say small town charm, they mean small town charm. The population is about twenty thousand. I love the fact that small town translates to safe town and everyone knows everyone one way or another. You cannot go to the local Kroger’s without running into everyone you know. Even if you don’t know them, the people are polite. This is a very close knit community. We help each other out in times of need and no one goes without. Also it is the last stop before leaving Texas.
I pulled my long chocolate brown hair out of the elastic and let it whip in every which direction. I reminded myself I needed a trim. My hair came down my lower back. The humidity is high these days especially during the summer months. The high humidity and long hair do not exactly mix. It’s beautiful though, I think to myself. I have had long hair for as long as I could remember. I never fix it up anymore the way I did in the past. Now it goes up in a ponytail. No use in fighting a losing battle with the humidity.
We stop half way to New Orleans at a local gas station. I don’t even bother with where we are exactly on the map, other than I needed a bathroom break. Soon we are back on the road. We talk about just random things, nothing that really keeps our attention for long before we are quiet again. I turn the radio on just to keep the silence away. I sing along with some of my favorites. Even though I don’t sing as great as the famous signers, it’s not that bad. There have been a few times where people have complemented my singing,
We finally arrived at the Airport Hotel on the outside of New Orleans, right when you arrive in New Orleans and I am ready to go. First things first, we have to check in, get ready, catch the shuttle and laissez les bons temps rouler. I feel the excitement building inside of me, just waiting for release. “You’re just like the kids,” my husband tells me. After we are both ready we go downstairs to catch the shuttle to Bourbon Street. I feel a little anxious without my cellphone. I left it on the hotel dresser. Trust me when I say there a lot of pickpockets on Bourbon Street. As we wait for the shuttle, I look around me and it looks like we weren’t the only ones going to the French Quarter. At last, the shuttle arrives, we are the last to get on. As I start to climb the steps of the shuttle, I noticed it was full and standing room by the looks of it. Axel and I looked at each other and shrugged. We finished climbing in and grabbed a rail.
Although, I am not happy with having to stand on the drive to the French Quarter, I am quite giddy on the ride there. While standing I was able to look of the tinted windows of the shuttle, this pacified me a bit. I noticed the closer we got to Bourbon Street, the more people there were. It looked as though people were just appearing out of nowhere. The crowd was getting thicker and harder for the driver to maneuver through. Axel, turns to me and again reminds me that our time here is short and we must spend it wisely. I guess he just wanted to talk to pass the time. I asked Axel if we can go to the St. Louis Cemetery after lunch.
“Sure,” he tells me.
We get off the shuttle at the corner of Bourbon and Ursuline. I look around me amazed, stunned into silence by all that I see. I don’t know where to start. I notice the beautiful Creole building, it was a dark green with red trim, and tall windows. I could only imagine living in such a home. Most of Bourbon Street and the Rue Royal are home to such architectural buildings. Many have been converted to townhomes, bars, and mansions.
We walk down Bourbon Street to see what restaurants are around. We went to several restaurants and they were full some had lines going around the block. I was amazed just by looking around me and was fascinated by all that I saw. We come upon a group of street dancers, dancing to Queen’s I Want to Break Free, their moves so complex, yet so fluid. I applause with crowd and gave them a tip when the coffee tin came around. I silently wondered how they keep they bright white pants so clean.
Further up the street I see children tap dancing, a young disheveled girl playing Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto. I noticed the girl’s dirty blond hair was not brushed it was wild, it gave her character. She wore and old beaten brown coat and jeans. When she looked up, her eyes were a beautiful hazel. Her face appeared to have seen better times. Her face looked leathery with age, and I realized this was no young girl. This was an extremely talented woman, with the troubles that a hard life provides.
There were more street dancers, and New Orleans’ very own Silver Man. He scared when I first noticed him. He did not move and as I walked past him, I felt the gently pull of my hair. I turned around and he was in a different position, with an expression that was unbelievable to pass as innocent. I turned back in his direction and placed a tip into his tip jar.
I am so lost and enthralled with New Orleans. If you have never been to New Orleans, then let me give you fair warning, by night fall, New Orleans is covered in filth and the stench is awful. It smelled of cheap tobacco and stale alcohol. I could also smell urine and vomit. I could see people too drunk to walk staggering through the street. We walk around them for fear they may try something dreadful.
By early evening we had the good luck to walk into to a quaint restaurant near the corner of Bourbon Street and St. Louis. It was not very full, maybe because we ended up skipping lunch to let the lunch rush pass. We sat at a booth with a large window, the familiar Cajun decorations throughout the restaurant was amazing to me. The waiter came to take our order. He was young, I would say maybe twenty-one. His pimply face gave him away. He was nice enough. I ordered the red beans and rice with a Dr. Pepper and Axel gets a famous Louisiana Po’boy and sweet tea. As we sit there quietly talking I remember the day I first saw him and the first day I knew I loved him. Eleven long years together and two children, of course we hit that dry spell. Rather than throw it away we decided to fix what is broken and salvage us. That is what this trip was about. Seeing him and spending this time together brought it all back, I wonder if he felt it. After our order arrived we ate in silence, savoring the delicious food. When we left we held hands and I knew we would be okay.
We continued walking around Bourbon Street and entered the various voodoo shops to look around. I get my fortune told by a fortune teller at The Voodoo Lady shop on Bourbon Street. She looks at me oddly, gives me my money back and states a great evil will befall me as death stalks me. She ran us out of her shop with a tru
e, deep down fear in her voice. Two blocks down from The Voodoo Lady there is another Voodoo Madame, with a booth set up on the side walk. I pay her the forty-dollar fee to have my fortune read. She is a young white haired, light skinned black woman. Her bosom nearly falling out of her bright pink peasant top. Her dark brown eyes glaze over, and she looks at me with fear and pity. Slowly she tells me “that which you seek, you will find, but a great price you will pay, for a great evil awaits you.” Wow cryptic. As I get up slowly, I notice the woman was not truly light skinned. She has patches of black skin on her hands and on the back of her neck. Vitiligo, I thought to myself. I look at my husband and naturally he is concerned. I shrug at him and tell him not to worry about it because fortune telling is for entertainment purposes. He nods and we go on our way.
At the corner of Bourbon Street and Orleans we enter a store. We pay for The Ghost and Vampire Tours. This is not get on an open bus and ride around town. This type of tour is just paying for someone to walk you around the French Quarter telling you scary stories about New Orleans. During the tour we walk around Bourbon Street and the Rue Royal. We stop in front of a gorgeous period home. We are told it is the La Laurie House. Chasity, our “tour guide” for all intents and purposes was dressed like a vixen. She wore a short black leather skirt, with fishnet stocking, pale make up except for her lips. Her lips were a blood red. She also wore a white corset and a long black cape with red velvet on the inside. She was certainly making her money. I noticed some of the men in our group could not keep from drooling.
After the tour we continue walking the streets of Bourbon and the Rue Royal. By this time Bourbon Street is in full swing life mode. I enjoy the lights, the dancing. As we are walking I tell my husband not to look down. “Ewe gross,” I hear him say. I turn to look at him laughing as I say “didn’t I say don’t look down? In front of me basically at eye level to myself, was a skinny young, black man wearing a red thong and nothing else. I look at my watch and realize it’s barely ten in the evening. Daylight has long since faded and the threat of another day slowly approaches.
Evanescere: Origins Page 1
