“So then where do the legends of only coming out at night come from?” I asked.
“Living in the shadows of the night is a metaphor. It means to not reveal yourself to anyone. You can interact with humans as prey and live quietly amongst them, but remember this, we are also a danger to them. It is imperative that we keep a low profile.”
“So we can befriend them without them suspecting what we are,” I interrupted him. I was still hoping on some level of my subconscious that I was just dreaming. I still could not wrap my head around the existence of vampires. My mind brought up the image of a distorted Nosferatu.
“Oh they will suspect you are something you are not. Our scent, our looks are appealing and you will find that no one can resist us. Every instinct tells them to stay away from us. We are virtually indestructible, like titanium. We are predators and kill indiscriminately. Personally, I prefer the evil doers, but then there are others like us, who have chosen to live differently from me. Of course you may choose your path,” he explained.
“Others live differently. What do you mean?” I asked, confused.
“There are those of our kind who prefer to eat rats or larger prey. They claim it saves their humanity, their eternally damned soul if you believe that. Others, it is just a way of life. In some parts of the world there are those like us who by choice live in sewers or caves. Rats and other animals just happen to find their way to them.”
“Do you believe we are damned?” I ask him.
“I do not care either way. Had I a different choice I would not have done this to you? I owed it to you to allow you to seek retribution,” he admitted. I sensed remorse in his admission.
“What do you mean?” Confusion filled my voice.
“I live on the corner of Bourbon Street and Ursuline. This is my house we are in. As I mentioned before, I moonlight as a police officer at night. It makes it easier to find my prey. As it so happens, about three nights ago on my way out I find this delicious scent lingering outside. So I followed your sent. I merely meant to get a glimpse of this delicious creature, that would dare taunt me. I was also curious about why your scent was on my doorstep. When I found you alone and broken, nearly dead, I took pity on you, yet I took you for my own selfish reasons. You see, I thought to let you die and abstain from interfering in mortal affairs; however, the thought of never smelling your scent again it nearly broke me. I had never in my entire existence smelled something as delicious as the fragrance that emanated off of your skin. I took you to save you, but I believe I really did it because I am a selfish creature by nature and have been alone for so long. I did not know you, or who you were, I only knew you were broken. You belonged to someone. You did not deserve the indignity that befell you,” he said.
I was a bit surprised about what he had just said and I thought back to what he said about scents. I remembered their scents but I could not see their faces clearly. I explained this to him and he told me not to worry about it because with human eyes I could not see clearly no matter what my vision was.
“Also, you my dear, need to feed,” he stated in matter of fact sort of way.
Out of my thoughts I stopped to ask him his name.
“Oh I forgot about the niceties. I am Jacques St. Germaine, also known as Detective Jack Whitecloud, and you are?” he asked. Clearly remembering his manners.
“I am Salome,” I said softly and I was sure he could hear me. Saying my name only brought pain. I knew deep down I was no longer Salome. I was a creature of the night, your worst nightmare. This would take some getting used to.
“How did you do that?” he asked, slightly confused.
“Do what,” I asked unsure of what his question was.
“One minute you were in pain, a pain I could not imagine and have never felt in my entire six hundred years and the next you were accepting, might be the word,” he clarified.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I was just as confused as he was and he saw that. He left the issue alone for now, but I heard the slight whisper of his wonder, only his lips had not moved.
“I should have known that night at the cemetery, the pity I felt for you. You were much more in your previous life. I felt sympathy for you as you lay dying on the tomb. I wonder what else you can do” he mentally questioned. I could hear the wonder in his thoughts.
“Are you gifted as well?” I hesitated when I responded to his unspoken question.
“I just feel the emotions in the atmosphere, the tension, anger, rage or happiness. What I just felt emanate off of you I never felt. It was as though you were going to break into pieces and the pain came from somewhere deep within,” he explained.
“Jack, it is the pain of all I have lost,” I explained.
He looks at me questioningly.
“Jack, I did belong to someone. More than one actually.”
My response quickly dawned on him, “You had children?” he asked. His voice rose an octave in surprise.
“Yes, Jazmine is ten and Max is six. I had a family whose name I can easily recall, but I cannot remember their faces, it is very heartbreaking,” I explained to him.
“Mon petit, it is because you saw them with human eyes, that you cannot recall their faces. Sadly, I have burdened you with this sadness that your family will never see you again or the knowledge of what has become of you. I apologize for taking your life from you,” he replied apologetically.
“Jack, if I may say so, I am not sorry, you have given me a second chance at life, do not be sorry for what I have lost. You saved me the only way you knew how. I must mourn my own loss, it is my burden to bear,” I replied.
I stopped in the middle of my speech because I felt a burning ache deep down to the pit of my stomach. A feeling I have never felt before and suddenly I felt utterly savage. I looked at Jack for an answer to this emotion, to this burn. I felt starved as though I had not eaten and would soon die of hunger. The dryness I felt in my throat intensified it hurt deep inside. I felt as though I had been deprived of hunger for so long. I did not know what I would do if I did not eat soon.
“Mon petit¸ shall we go hunt, I feel your hunger. Yes, it is hunger that you are feeling. I know that it feels uncomfortable and I cannot tell you if this feeling ever goes away. At times you may be able to suppress it, but once it rises to the surface the monster inside of us comes out. I am able to suppress the hunger for a few months at a time not much longer. Come, let’s not wait any longer, I know where we shall start,” he explained.
I look back at myself in the mirror. I am still in the beautiful gown and for the first time I notice that my feet are bare. I wondered if this was appropriate attire for hunting. Jack himself was wearing a casual button up shirt with black slacks, and a pair of shiny black shoes. His dark hair was shaved close to the scalp. From this angle, I could clearly see the tattoos down his arms. The tattoos themselves were very intricately woven. I learned long ago that tattoos tell a person’s story. Jack’s right arm bore the emblem of a dragon intricately designed with a double cross above it. I also noticed the Roman numeral thirteen as well. I also noticed a crest, but I could not place the symbols. He also bore the symbol of Ankh.
As I stared at him, I realized he was very angelic. Jack was extremely tall compared to my short frame. He was lean, fit and muscled. I could notice the thickness of his muscled arms. I imagined the rest of his body was muscled as well. This was a man who had seen a fight or two in his time. I would not want to get on his bad side if it ever came to it. I could imagine him being a brutal fighter, wrestler or a boxer.
Jack turned to me. Concern written on his face
“Is something the matter?” he asked.
I was suddenly embarrassed to be caught staring at him.
“How do we hunt?” I asked, trying to recover from being caught looking at his beautiful physic. In my mind I was seeing a hunter dressed in camouflage with a rifle aimed at a nine-point buck. I could not imagine hunting in a beautiful evening gown and barefoot.
&n
bsp; “You find your prey and then let your instinct take over. Also you must never leave a wound. You must always seal your bites with your saliva. It will heal the wound so no trace of us is left,” he explained.
I was still confused by his explanation. Maybe because I was so new to this life and there was so much for me to learn. It is not like I took a class on how to be a vampire in college. No one tells you how to hunt like a vampire. Another thought crossed my mind and I asked it aloud for him.
“Are we going hunting dressed like this?” I asked him.
“There is nothing wrong with the way you are dressed. I will have to take you shopping though. I did not anticipate, creating anyone, much less having a woman at my side. This was the only thing I could find at such a late hour,” he responded. I noted a note of sadness in his voice. I put this aside. I did not think I wanted to hear the story behind his sadness.
“It is beautiful; it would be a shame to ruin it,” I said.
“I doubt you will cause it any damage,” he said, confident in his answer.
With that final word we were off into the dark streets of New Orleans. We moved very swiftly. So fast human eyes would not see us fly by. Everything was a blur as we walked through. The bright lights of New Orleans blurred, had I taken the time to take a picture it would have appeared like a motion blur. I felt the thrill of the speed of my new life. I felt free, like I could do anything or be anything I wanted to be. I felt like I could fly, but at the same time I was mourning everything I had lost. I did not know if I would ever see my family again. I avoided such heavy thoughts for now. I will think about it later.
I had so many questions for Jack and I figured he would answer my questions along the way. I was still curious about his surprise.
5. HEMORRHAGE
I
COULD FEEL HIS STEEL GRASP on my arm, in anticipation of what I was not sure. I looked at him and for the first time I noticed his eyes were a golden brown. The also had green specks in them. They were soft and warm. As he looked at me, I looked down at my arm. He chuckled and gently told me it was just in case my instinct takes over. I slowly nod my head in acceptance, not entirely too sure by what he meant. I guessed I would soon find out.
Silently we walk, not knowing where, but I knew I would follow him. Lost in my thoughts, I avoided the one thought, that one emotion that would make me break. I looked to Jack, for diversion.
“Jack, how do we hunt?” I asked him questioningly.
“Use your senses. For instance, tell me what do you smell?”
“I smell azalea’s, perfumes, the different muskiness emitting from the warm bodies of Bourbon Street.” With that I caught a smell, a delicious warm scent. I closed my eyes and I felt the soft beat of a heart. I made to go for my prey when I felt Jack grab my arm before I had taken two steps. I snarl at him and he laughs at me.
“Mon Cherie, next time. I want to take you somewhere as you recall, I mentioned having a gift for you. I believe you will appreciate the gift I have for you. It took a day or so to find it,” he told me in a playful manner.
I did not understand his cryptic statement, but I was somehow sure I would soon find out what he meant. I was curious about his surprise. In my previous life I loved to receive surprises, which were rare, but I appreciated them so much more. Right now, I felt scared for some reason, there was some sort of anticipation in the pit of my stomach. I was unsure of my future. How would I continue without my children? Maybe after I hunted and fed, I will understand why I am suddenly a threat to my very own flesh and blood.
I compose myself and follow him. He looks at me as if I am about to shatter. I shake my head and smile. He leads me to the St. Louis Cemetery. It is dark outside still but I could feel the rays of the early morning sun not yet visible. I hear the familiar creak of the gates opening. I don’t understand why he brought me here, but the creaking of the gate was vaguely familiar. I unsure why it seemed so familiar to me. It is so peaceful and beautiful.
We walk through the cemetery in no particular direction, left one minute, straight for another. Just walking in random and suddenly I catch the faint smell of blood and Bleu.
“No!” I gasp, as the realization dawns on me. I am suddenly crouched near a vault afraid of what I would encounter. The memories of my last night flooded my mind. I felt the men, the pain I endured. I remembered the torture. I wrapped my arms around me legs and felt the warm tears fall down my cheeks. I felt like a helpless child, alone and afraid.
“Why have you brought me here?” I demanded. I could feel the anger rising inside of me. I did not want to face this. I was not ready to face my death just yet. I stared at Jack, his eyes suddenly glazed over, like he was seeing something that was not there. He snapped out of it, his mouth fell open, stunned. I was not sure, what happened. Just as suddenly, he snapped out of it all together and was his calm, reserved self.
“Calm down Salome. I promised you retribution. Now stop, close your eyes and tell me again what do you smell?” He asked calmly.
“Blood, Bleu, tobacco, maybe a cigar and a faint citrusy scent. Maybe a lemon tree nearby I believe? I also smell the remnant of a strong unknown aftershave cheaply made,” I responded.
“Very good. Now I want you to follow the Bleu. Focus on that one scent and follow it,” he directed.
I looked at him and he nodded his head in reassurance. I did as he said. I walked several yards in a straight line. I followed the faint scent to my unknown destination. So slowly in anticipation. I approach the old mausoleum and touch the cold marble, only it feels wrong somehow. I open the door and the entire frame comes with it. There is a cloud of dust. I look to him for explanation.
“I forgot to mention one detail,” he laughs at my expression, “as a vampire, you will have incredible strength. You will need to control your strength in order to blend in with the humans. Humans are not supposed to be that strong, you understand,” he explained. He put his hand to my cheek and smiled at me. I noticed for the first time that his gorgeous smile was slightly crooked. His teeth were a brilliant white and they were perfect.
“Do we have fangs,” I asked, “like in the movies?”
“No we don’t. Our teeth are normal, the portrayal of us if for media entertainment,” he responded. I slightly noticed he shook his head in disbelief.
I return to my hunt and again I smell the Bleu. The faint scent is so strong in here. I approach the ancient bronze coffin. The lid is closed. I smell decay and suddenly I hear it. The fast heartbeat, racing rapidly. The adrenaline makes the blood pump faster. The smell of the warm blood, salty, and rustic begins to make me feel savage. It is the hunger. The anticipation of the hunt. I hear the muffled screams coming from inside the coffin. The weakened pounding coming from the inside of the coffin. Someone is trying to get out, obviously that was not going to happen.
I suddenly realize how I came to be. The memories played back in my mind, like a recording, it was fuzzy, as if I was watching it on an old television with bad reception. I remembered the screams, the laughter, the pain, and the humiliation. I remember tasting my tears only they tasted wrong somehow. I remember the rustic scent only now I realized it was not water or my tears that I tasted but the blood. I remember the burning of my neck. I remembered Jack feeding off of me and in turn he fed me his life’s blood.
I snap out of the realization and I remember the Bleu cologne the man wore. It hits me, his smell from when he was on me, inside of me. I yell and attack the coffin in a rage. Pure uncontrollable rage. When I rip the lid off, he sees me. Something has frightened him. I hear the shock in his thoughts.
“Your dead, we killed you, you Bitch!” he screams
I let out a maniacal laugh. At this thought I calmed down long enough to whisper softly in his ear. “You killed me, and took my family away from me. Now I will pay back the favor. My family will never see me again and neither will yours,” I told him. I could feel the anger, the hatred, and the rage in my voice.
I wanted this to l
ast, to torture him, to prolong the inevitable. Unsure of what I was to do, I gently I bit into his neck and I felt the warm blood begin to hemorrhage down my parched throat. I drank his blood until I could no longer taste the warm fluid going down my throat. All the while, I heard his thoughts and it was agony. To know this miserable low life has a wife and children hurt me to the core. The very fact that he would do this to me and others. His wife was so clueless to the monster she had really married. I get flashes of the others from that night. I know who to seek.
“Salome, have you had enough?” he asks, “I don’t feel you ache from hunger.”
“I am done,” I tell him.
“How do you do that? Most young vampires such as you tend to be gluttons. But you have surprise me!” he tells me. I could hear the wonder in his voice.
“Maybe I will feed again later,” I tell him. We reposition the bronze coffin back in the mausoleum in silence. This man is enclosed in a coffin with the loved one of another. Will anyone know? I erase the thought from my mind.
Jack again reminds me that we must also get rid of any evidence of us.
“Never leave a bite mark visible. You must always seal the wound with your saliva. It will heal it. Then you make it appear as though a robbery went wrong, or some drunken fool went into the Mississippi. You must never kill the tourist. If you did no one will come here anymore. We both know that New Orleans survives on the money that the tourists bring in,” he explained.
I remember my final days as a human. We were tourists here to. I wonder what has become of Axel in my absence. This is something we have not yet discusses. It seems that it has been an eternity since I disappeared. I was not entirely sure how long that was, or what day it is. Axel must be going crazy with worry, if only there was a way for me to get a message out to him. I wish I could be there to tell him everything would be okay. I change the direction of my thoughts.
Evanescere: Origins Page 4
