The pain of taking a life, regardless of how evil the person is pains me. I think this is why I prefer not to hunt. I seek to maintain my humanity, but it is near impossible to avoid having to feed on human blood. I plan to hunt one last time tonight in order to be able to survive the trip to England. I could feel the pain from my hunger I needed to end the torture. I had a special hunt planned out for this night. The last man who destroyed my life. This man is the last of them.
Jack and I prepare for the hunt. I dress in the usual jeans, red-shirt and black leather knee high boots. I had trouble wearing heals in my previous life, now I am swift and as graceful as a ballerina. I met jack at the bottom of the stairs. He looks gorgeous in his grey suit. With the lilac button up shirt and matching tie. I was afraid to breath. If my heart still beat, I was sure he would hear it. I was glad that it no longer did. I was glad I no longer blushed. It was as though I was seeing him for the first time. I quickly looked away from him. I look toward the mirror on the mantel.
I heard him draw in his breath. He blocked me out of his mind and for that I was grateful for that one act. I could only wonder if he was sensing my emotion. I thought back to the plan. We would separate the one from the crowd. Thanks to Jack’s intel we knew where to look, Jack knew the plan. One last man and he would be mine. I had waited for this one. He was a coward of a man. He had been in hiding, but the idea of hiding from an unknown entity clouded his judgement. That and he was feigning for another kill.
“Rape and murder were his drug of choice. I gave up wondering why he could not be like every other normal human being. Come to think of it. I don’t think the idea of normal exists in my world anymore. In the beginning I thought I was in hell. Then I thought I was crazy but I have come to accept that there is truth behind every myth. The only thing you had to do was seek out the truth, if you are brave enough. Or you could just tempt fate, I thought sarcastically. I smiled to myself.
“You look like a cat that ate the canary,” he stated.
“Just glad it is almost over,” I tell him.
“Are we ready to go,” he asks.
“Yes!” I exclaim, confident in the one word. To me that one word meant more to me in this one moment. That one word would bring me peace and I hope grant me some type of closure. It was a shame that the monsters who destroyed me would get away with my murder. I would have enjoyed seeing them in prison but since technically there is no body and no proof of my death they would have continued to walk the streets of New Orleans free as a jaybird. Death was just too easy for them. They would have to pray the price one way or another. To me, God or whichever deity they happen to meet in that eternal slumber.
We step out into the cool Louisiana night. It had just finished raining. The road was still slick. The smell of fresh rain brought me back to another time, another life. I could picture drinking cool lemonade while I sat on the covered porch with the sound of little feet.
We turn onto Bourbon Street. I scan the thoughts of the people on the street seeking the one. I knew he had been hiding since I began to kill his friends one by one. I will never forget or forgive for all I have lost.
Some time had passed, but not enough and I guess he assumed he was safe, but not this night. I heard the flicker of his thoughts and his thoughts are on a beautiful woman with red hair and green feline eyes. She gives him that sly, all to coy smile. The one that tempted you to approach.
Slowly I make my way towards him, ever nearer to the Ashes on the Bourbon, and I feel Déjà vu as I remember that night. It has been only a few weeks since my change and yet I can remember it like if it was yesterday. I calmly stalk my prey. Jack stays a short distance behind me. I follow him into the bar. His mind still on the girl. I could see what he had planned for her. If she knew his thoughts, she would have run far away from New Orleans.
I interrupt the man and his intended victim. So swiftly I am standing in front of him, blocking her view of him. I look at him and give a sly smile. I grudgingly wrap my arms around his waist. I lift my lips to his neck and I inhale deeply. If she only knew I was here to save her from suffering the same fate that I had. I heard her snide mental comments, when I captured his interest. I hear his confused thoughts. I appear familiar to him, but he does not recall where we had met. Surely he would have remembered me. I hear the girl hurl her insults and I ignore them with a smile. I whisper in his ear and he follows me. They all did. I hope she realizes how lucky she is this night.
My prey follows me out of the club. I could still here the music only now the tune had change. It was as though the music interpreted my anticipation. The change of the game. The reversal of roles. The hunter had just become the hunted.
I lean next to his chest and I can smell his cheap cologne and tobacco. The reminder alone is enough to drive me over the edge, but I manage to keep it together.
“No witnesses and dispose of properly,” I remind myself. He follows me down Bourbon Street, ever nearer to the darker, dangerous side of the street. I push him up against the old hotel. I can smell the discarded diapers on the driveway. The smell of stale beer. The stench of putrid urine. This was the part of Bourbon Street no one in their right mind would be at, at this hour. With that final thought I strike without his realizing it.
I bite into his warm flesh and I feel his warm blood filling me, warming me. Hearing his thoughts while I slowly take his life and he thinks he has died and gone to heaven. I get one last glimpse of another man. A man I do not recall, is standing near me in the St. Louis Cemetery. He is standing there unnoticed by the others. I find this odd. The man has long dirty blond hair pulled back into a leather band. He is middle aged and fit. Something about him I could not place. I push the thought aside for now. As for this low life death is where it ends for him.
******
I fed some more this night. I believe I went beyond gluttony that by the time I was done I could barely walk. Jack says I must be careful even though I have my instincts in check and have never acted as the newborn he expected, he is still concerned. There is no helping that.
“Jack relax, I promise I will not go Jack the Ripper on you,” I jokingly tell him.
His eyes darkened and glared at me. I was unsure of what I had done.
“Is it something I said?” I asked, before the realization dawned on me.
“Jack,” I began, “please do not tell me that you were Jack the Ripper.”
“How did you know?” He asked still glaring at me.
“I didn’t until now,” I hesitated.
Realization of my joke suddenly dawned on his face and he smiled.
“So what happened in England, Mr. Jack the Ripper?” I asked in a teasing manner.
“That would be my alter ego Hyde,” he answered.
We both laughed. That he would reveal something about himself surprised me. I dropped the issue for now. If he wanted to talk about it he would do so at his own time. I could sense he was not ready to open up about it. I held his hand as we walked back to the house on the corner of Ursuline and Bourbon Street.
The anticipation of traveling to Europe has been near erupting inside me. To visit the places that I only dreamed I could go as a mortal, it was so surreal. I still felt a longing for my old life, but I have come to understand that my family is safer from me now and forever. The sacrifices I make, this pain burns and tortures me every day that I do not get to see them.
Jack makes sure to keep me busy these days. I have met another vampire here in New Orleans, her name is Lorelei, a friend of Jack’s. Lorelei has been amazing. She is more of a babysitter for me whenever Jack is not at home. According to Lorelei she is younger than Jack and from somewhere in Germany. Lorelei has a very colorful past that has become infamous. Everything I had always thought was myth has proven to be true. I asked about werewolves once. He scoffed at me; yet, he never fully answered me.
The ride to the airport was uneventful. When we arrived, the plane was being prepped for our departure. Jack still felt unease with me b
eing a newborn vampire. I think he was afraid I would eat the crew and passengers.
“Where is the trust, Jack? I asked him.
“I trust you, it is your newborn instincts I am unsure of,” he tells me.
We met the pilot at the hanger. I was surprised when the pilot addressed him as Jack De la Croix. It was awkward when Jack in turn introduced me as his daughter Marie, even though I look nothing like him. My skin was on the chalky olive side, almost like a permanent tan, where he is fairer than I with a light tan I guess you would call it that. I guess when you have been around you learn how to coexist with the humans.
As in Jack’s case. I knew Jack had money and I just never realized how much. He has been generous with me as his prodigy and I still had a difficult time accepting his generosity. I flashed my eyes in the direction of the captain and I smile at hearing his inappropriate thoughts, at this point he was also starting to question his sexuality. I shook my head. Now there was an imagine I would like to avoid. I smile wide flashing the captain my perfect pearly whites. All the while Jack looked at me questioningly.
“Later,” I tell him.
I was so excited about being on a plane much less having the entire plane to ourselves. I had never been on one before more out of fear that it would explode. But now as a vampire come to grips with the fact that I am virtually indestructible I look forward to flying without fear. My thoughts shift suddenly to my family and just as swiftly I force them away. I apologize to Jack. I know it tears at him when I give in to these emotions.
We arrived at Heathrow Airport at dusk. From out of the window, I can see the sun beginning to set. The sky looked so beautiful it was awe inspiring. The airport was crowded, as travelers from every part of the world ran from terminal to terminal trying to catch their plane. I had never seen so many people from different countries and cultures all in one place. I felt elated. I remember this feeling, I had it on my last night as a human. I quickly set aside the memory. A quick glance at Jack and I could tell he was feeding off of my energy right now. I am not sure if he ever felt this way. Childish almost. We grabbed our bags and walked towards the exit.
As we walked, I noticed the stares from people. It was not fear but disbelief that right in front of them a duo of the most beautiful people they had ever seen walked before them. I enjoyed the thoughts out of pure vanity. I was plain and imperfect in my human life. Now I was so full of life, so excited but I still dreaded the thought that I would never know my children. Never see them grow up, get married and have children of their own. Jack must have read my emotion and I felt his hand on my shoulder. His hand felt warm and electric, smooth as stone. Jack hands me my coat and scarf before we exit. Props really. We don’t get cold or hot or uncomfortable. I had gathered from Jack that London is his favorite hunting ground.
I know, hunting. Actually we are not in London to hunt. Jack brought me to Europe as a diversion and since I am a history buff he wanted me to see history in all its glory. We get into a cab silently and set off for the King’s Cross Hotel. It seemed like an eternity that we were in the car sitting quietly, motionless. I turned to the cabbie and I caught a glimpse of his thoughts. He thinks there is something wrong with us as no one can sit this perfectly still. To avoid the awkwardness, I engage Jack in small talk. He caught on quickly. We talked about all of the sights we were going to see. I was so animated when I spoke with him. All of this was a dream come true for me, just not the way I had imagined it.
As we sat in the back of the cab talking, I heard Jack’s thoughts and he was glad I could hear others. It was difficult to hear him I had to really focus on him to hear his thoughts. When we arrived at the hotel I was a bit in shock not what I was expecting. I was thinking we would be staying somewhere more lavish. Jack explained it was to blend in. I did not buy his reasoning, so I did not argue with him since we would only be here for a week before we drove out into the country.
Jack explained to me that at one point vampires had lived in the sewers among London’s poor and would feed off of them. No one would notice a poor man missing. A poor man or woman generally had no family or they had been orphaned. Many were dying from hunger or sickness by the time a vampire decided to turn them into food. Jack explained that to live in the sewers as a poor man was to blend in. Since we don’t burn in the sun, the only way to identify a true vampire is by the aura we emit and the paleness of our skin. Many were killed and burned at the stake accused of being vampires. Since we are indestructible we are not easily killed by mere mortals. We are actually not very easily caught.
8. HERE WITHOUT YOU
A
FTER WE UNPACKED, JACK WANTED to go back to his hunting ground for old time’s sake and I joined him for a “tour of the city,” you could say. We walked around the dark streets of London for what seemed like an eternity. Jack basically had a history lesson for each landmark we passed. I was just too eager to go exploring. I know being a vampire you have plenty of time to learn patience; however, this is so new to me that patience isn’t exactly a virtue right now. I inhale the cool brisk London air and enjoy it. For some odd reason it felt great to be somewhere new.
The London streets were crowded with pedestrians making their way to some unknown destination. I could smell a pungent odor heavy with perfumes and colognes. This was something new, something I understood was cultural. No different than the streets of New Orleans.
We walked towards Hackney, one the Ghettos of East London. I was certainly not expecting what I encountered. The ghetto were modern apartments in which cultures remained separate. It reminded me of the Jewish Ghettos of World War II only this was modern day London and there were Muslims, Asians, Indians, black, and white. Each contained to their own part of the ghetto. It was nothing the way I imagined it would be. I was certainly experiencing cultural shock at this point. I stared up at them in sadness. A world united, yet separated at the same time.
All the while we had walked, unsure what Jack was looking for, I was lost in my own thoughts. Without realizing where I was going we reached an unlit alley way in which Jack said he could remember when nothing stood here but the filth of London, there was a slight disdain to his voice. We walked to the sewer entrance and with the greatest of ease, he lifted the sewer cover.
“Shall we?” he asked
We proceeded to jump in and landed softly without a sound.
“What do you smell Salome?” Jack asked.
“Filth, rotten sewage,” I responded.
“Nothing else? Look around you,” he gently ordered.
I did. I was shocked by what I saw. London’s old sewer.
“We’ll go right this way,” he directed.
I followed him for what felt like miles and soon we heard laughter, saw a fire in a metal barrel. Some of London’s poor still live in the sewers. They turned to us when we approached them. An odd expression in their eyes. Their thoughts incoherent. Drunk, I guess, since I smelled the aroma of stale beer. We kept going. We walked for hours in the labyrinth of London’s Sewers. It was quite easy to distinguish the newer parts of the sewer from the older part. The older parts contained brown smooth stones, some falling away with age.
I still was not sure what we were doing here, but from watching Jacks movements ever so subtle so delicate, it looked as though Jack was reliving the memories of his past. Suddenly I saw a soft, warm glow of light.
“Torches,” I said aloud.
Jack turned to me with a finger to his lips to silence me. I suddenly saw them in the chamber. Jack called out for them in a language long since gone; slowly, soundlessly they approached us. They appeared weary of us. I realized this was a nest and the way they were dressed made me think they did not go out much. Jack spoke with one in a language I did not understand and the old one smiled. He led us to another chamber.
As I followed him, I looked around me and I saw the writings on the wall. I meant that literally. It dawned on me it was a detailed history of London from the time of the Great Fire to now. I was
awed by what I saw. In another chamber there was more writing. A history of the nest. I looked at them and back at the wall. Many of the nest were lost except these few were all that remained, forced into the sewers in the late 18th century during the witch hunts.
I realized quickly, my first impression of them was accurate they never left the sewers. They fed off of the wraiths who found themselves lost down here, rats and lost pets. They continued to fear the outside world for some reason. I looked to Jack for an answer. It dawned on me. The answer was in history and I pitied them.
We continued with them for a bit longer. Jack stood up and led us out. It’s time for them to hunt, he stated. We continued through the sewers and I noticed the further we walked the older the sewers were. Parts of the sewer had crumbled; some were lined with a smooth stone. It reminded me of pathways. We finally made our way out of the sewer and found ourselves near Big Ben. Interesting. I asked Jack what the purpose of our little tour was. It was just in case I slipped and we needed a quick escape. The River Thames is just a few blocks down from our exit.
“Jack,” I began, “I already know the answer, but I still want to hear it. Why have they never left the sewer?” I questioned.
“The safety of the sewer was supposed to be temporary, but as time went on and era’s changed when they emerged, it was to a world unbeknownst to them. They no longer recognized the London of their time. It was this fear of the new world that kept them there. Yes, they would be able to adapt fairly quickly as most of us have chosen to, but let me ask you, if you had continued to be human and were relocated to an area with no electricity, no running water, and food was hard to come by how do you think you would fair?” He explained.
Evanescere: Origins Page 6
