by K. A. Poe
The last one overwhelmed me. Only six years of life...my lips curved downward and I tried to ignore the oncoming depressive thoughts until my eyes met the grave marker beside Marcy's. It looked new, as if it had just been placed recently. In fact, had I taken another step forward I would have collapsed into the vacant grave. Hesitantly, I peered downward – it was empty. My curiosity got the best of me – as it often had – and I crouched beside the headstone to get a look at the name.
It was difficult to read in the dark, unlike the older ones I had read just seconds ago, these letters were black. My hand began trembling as I traced my index finger along the inscription. As my eyes adjusted, the letters came into view and I gasped. Big, bold letters ran across the front of the stone:
ALEXIS WALDRON
SEPTEMBER 9, 1994 – NOVEMBER 13, 2012
I jumped away from what was presumably my grave and bumped into something - someone. I shouted and tried to run but a cold hand wrapped around my arm. I sighed with relief.
“Salem?” I said in a hopeful voice. “Please tell me that's you.”
“I am afraid not, my dear,” the voice was unfamiliar, masculine and dark. It did, however, hold a similar accent to that of Salem's.
My body involuntarily shuddered, and it had little to do with the chilling touch of the man's hand or the gust of wind that swept passed us. He spun me around with the slightest movement of his hand and I came face to face with my assailant. His face seemed almost gentle. He must have been in his mid-thirties, before he became a member of the undead. His eyes were circled with deep, purple shadows and the irises were a surprisingly cool shade of amber. A mane of pale blonde hair cascaded down to his shoulders, and his lips were arched in a dreadful grin that stole away any beauty that may have existed on his face.
“You cannot begin to imagine how long it has been since I waited for this moment,” his cold, smooth hand swept the side of my face, “Once word of a raven caught my attention, I simply had to come to this little hole of a town to meet her! And for it to be you, of all people!” he laughed, but I didn't understand the humor.
“Where did you hear that from?” I gasped at his touch, while attempting to keep my voice level and not show my fear. Where was Salem when I needed him!
“I have my connections. However, that is unimportant, Alexis. What is important, is what I am about to offer you,” his hand fell upon my throat, but his touch was gentle, without intent to hurt me – yet.
“There is nothing I could ever want from a monster like you!” I shouted, squirming to get away but despite how gently he was holding me, I couldn't break free.
He shut his eyes and shook his head slowly from side to side, making a 'tsk tsk' sound. “You really shouldn't lie to me like that, dear Alexis,” his eyes opened, revealing empty black voids. My jaw fell open when I saw Salem's face reflected in his pupils. “I am fully aware of your relationship with a ‘monster’ such as I, and I know he would hate to hear you call him one.”
“Salem isn't a monster,” my voice was low and steady, very much unlike my heartbeat.
“Then, why should I be classified as one?” he grinned again and I could see the tips of his pearly fangs. “That truly hurts my feelings,” His voice was overly sarcastic.
“I doubt you even have feelings!” I shouted, wriggling in his grasp once more – this time he tightened his hold on me.
The vampire cocked his head to the side and looked at me, examining me from head to toe. “Let's get back to my offer, now, shall we?”
“Spit it out already!”
He smiled fully then, and I was amazed at how stunning he looked with the moonlight casting a radiant glow against his blonde hair. “I have never personally met a Waldron that could turn into a raven; this is truly a treat for me! And, to have one in my arms, so warm and wriggling...it is most tempting. I could kill you right now, and no one would ever know where to find you. However!” he paused dramatically, leaning his head toward my throat. I could hear him inhaling my scent. “What if I offered you everlasting life? It is what you wish for, is it not?”
“Are you asking to make me, a vampire hunter...into a vampire?” I almost laughed. But he was far from being wrong with his assumption on my want for immortality.
“That is precisely what I am offering you, Alexis Waldron! Never having to worry about aging, isn't that what you want?” his voice was alluring. “Imagine, being with your beloved Salem without having to worry about age or death ever coming between you! Considering he doesn't appear willing to grant you your desires, I thought perhaps I would offer.”
“Death is still possible,” my voice was a mere whisper. “My family is evidence enough of that.”
“Your family are poor hunters, aside from yourself. You show potential at being so much more, however.”
“That's why you want me, then, isn't it?”
His gaze met mine and he smirked, “You are also quite intelligent, but are you smart enough to make the right decision? As a vampire, you could be so powerful, so capable. By my side, we could take control of the infantile vampires; teach them the proper ways of hunting. Imagine the endless supply of blood we could gather, town after town!” his malicious laughter sent chills down my spine, “Tell me this does not tempt you, my darling Alexis?”
My mind was racing with questions, worries, wonders, possibilities...how would Salem react to this? Would he love me less if I accepted this vampire's proposal? Would I become a monster, or would I be capable of controlling my want – my need – to feast on human blood?
“Salem's opinion is futile,” the vampire murmured, his cold lips right below my ear. “All that matters now is this moment, this decision,” It was hard to resist the hypnotic tone of his voice as it whispered against my throat.
“And if I say no?”
He shrugged his shoulders and let out a wisp of laughter, “Then, I shall enjoy your blood thoroughly before discarding your empty corpse in this pit beside us.”
“That sure gives me a lot of options,” I groaned. “Before I make any decisions, answer me one thing,” I offered, hoping to buy me some time.
The blonde-haired vampire arched a curious brow. “What have you to ask of me, raven?”
“Who are you and how did you know where to find me?”
He didn't release me, but loosened his grasp around my arm. “How I found you is simple. I have a direct connection with your Salem, although he might not be aware of that. We have somewhat of a...bond, you might say, as do all vampires and their Sires,” his mouth formed a malicious grin and my eyes grew wide.
“Raziel...”
“Ah, so he has mentioned me! How delightful,” Raziel mused as he brushed his fingers through my hair, despite my obvious objection to his gesture. “Now, was that all you wanted to know or may we get through with this? You must understand how difficult it is for me, mere inches from you...the blood coursing through your veins nearly beckons to me! I don't understand how Salem can tolerate it.”
“Because he can control himself – something that all of you should learn to do!”
“That leads me to believe you are not going to accept my offer,” he frowned, “You would have made such a wonderful addition to the family.”
“My own family would hunt me down and kill me eventually.”
“Not necessarily. Do you realize how long I have walked this earth without a single brush with death?” Raziel laughed. I could feel his breath against my skin. “I could teach you the proper ways of being a vampire. The ones you have killed are mere fledglings without guidance!”
This was not how I imagined my death, helpless in a graveyard with a vampire. But what choice did I have? I couldn't bear to live for all eternity with Salem loathing me for what I had become. “I can't accept your offer...” I said quietly, feeling the tears well up in the corner of my eyes.
Raziel sighed against my cheek, “You have greatly disappointed me, dear raven...and your beloved Salem, no doubt,” he laughed mocking
ly, “I would have thought you had his best interest in mind!”
“This would be his best interest!” I shouted, “He wouldn't want me to be like you!”
The vampire shook his head once more, “Your answers astound me, but very well,” My eyes widened in horror as he flung my body to the ground. I heard something crack as I hit the side of a tombstone. Why was I not transforming! I could fly away; I could escape this brutal torture! And where the hell was Salem!
I struggled to get up then realized with anguished screams that it was no use – my leg was either fractured or broken. Raziel laughed as I shook with pain on the muddy surface, his body looming over me. I saw his once-amber eyes flood with darkness. With one sudden, swift motion he was on top of me, his hands pressed into mine. I thought he was about to end it all, but instead I saw something reflected in his eyes. Images played like a movie through his pupils, and suddenly I was engulfed in the darkness as though dragged into the scene of a movie.
26. VISIONS
My eyes quickly scanned the area. I was in a small house decorated in plain, dull furnishings. The living room was cramped with a small sofa, a rocking chair and an old bassinet. To the left of me was a kitchen that looked extremely outdated, and realization struck me: Raziel was sharing a memory with me. My legs took me down a small hall and into a room on the right. I wasn't in control of my movements; the vampire must have been guiding me.
The room was bright and colorful, with a small bed in the corner and another rocking chair beside it. I gasped at the sight of the adorable little girl curled up in the bed. A braid of golden hair lay delicately across her sleeping face. She looked serene, until her eyes flew open. I worried that she had seen me, but realized there was no way that was possible. Someone else was in the room with me. I turned to see a tall figure hiding in the shadows. His eyes glimmered like amber jewels and I knew at once who I was seeing.
“Daniel!” Hannah's angelic voice whispered when she saw him. “I'm so happy to see you!”
Daniel? This couldn't be right. The man stepped out of the shadows, wiping away all doubt. This was Raziel’s face. The eyes, the blonde hair, the gentle features – there was no mistaking him.
“Hannah, my love!” he smiled and lifted the small child into his arms. “I have missed you so.”
“Momma says that you are imaginary, Daniel,” the little girl said as she hugged the man, “is that true?”
The man laughed, “Of course it isn't. If I were imaginary, I couldn't possibly be holding you. You would be floating!”
A flood of harmonious giggles filled the room. How had no one else heard the sound? Perhaps the Young family was so used to hearing Hannah talk and laugh with herself at night that it no longer woke them. The bond between her and Daniel was beautiful, yet it somehow sickened me all the same.
“I brought you a present,” Daniel said with a sly grin. “But, you must keep it a secret.”
“Okay!” Hannah said joyfully, anticipating the surprise.
Daniel pulled a locket from the pocket of his brown vest and offered it to the child. “I bought this especially for you,” he said and his face lit up at the girl's reaction. “Let me put it on for you.”
I watched as the man placed Hannah on the floor and gently wound the necklace around her neck. She pulled it up to her face and pried open the locket. There was a picture of her on one side, the other was empty.
“Why isn't there a picture of you in here?” she asked.
“I don't photograph well,” he replied with a light laugh.
“Or you really are imaginary!” Hannah said with a gasp.
“Perhaps,” Daniel smiled. “There is one more thing I have for you, dear Hannah. Can you promise that you will give it to your mother in the morning?”
“Of course!”
“Good girl,” he said and offered her a folded piece of paper. “Make sure daddy isn't around when she reads it,” he warned, emphasizing unpleasantly on the word 'daddy', and then patted her lightly on the head.
“Okay!” she hugged Daniel and kissed him gently on the cheek.
“Time for bed then,” he said, picking her up and gently placing her on the mattress. He pulled the covers up and tucked her in. “I'll be back tomorrow night.”
“Promise?” she said with a pout.
“Promise,” he smiled and disappeared out the window.
The vision faded and another appeared. I was now outside, peering in through a window. Daniel was beside me, discreetly hidden so that he wouldn't be caught peeping. Hannah and Maggie were sitting together on the rocking chair in the living room; our view of them was from the side. Their voices came through the window as if we were right beside them.
“What is it, Hannah?” Maggie asked as the small girl offered her a piece of paper.
“Daniel asked me to give this to you.”
Maggie's eyes grew angry at the name, but she relaxed somewhat and sighed. “How many times must I tell you that he is not real, darling?”
“He is real!” Hannah argued.
Maggie ignored her daughter and unfolded the paper. I suspect she had been anticipating a letter covered in childish scribbles or nothing at all – instead she found a note scrawled in magnificent lettering. I could barely read the letters from where I was. But, I could distinctly hear Margaret's voice as if she were reading it aloud, although her lips never moved.
“Dearest Margaret,
Despite your regrets and frequent requests that I cease to visit my dear Hannah, I am afraid I cannot abide by your rules. She is mine just as much as she is yours. Come to your senses and please tell Arthur the truth. Tell Hannah the truth! She deserves to know who her true father is. It pains me to be away from her, and for you to try to convince her that I am unreal is preposterous!
Please, if you cared for me at all, you would do this for me – for us.
With love – whether returned or forgotten,
Thomas D. Winter”
Before I had the opportunity to even think about what I had just seen, I was dragged into another memory. Daniel was weak and drunk, slumped against the wall of an alley. His eyes were red and swollen from tears, and he looked younger than before. His face was flushed and red, full of life – he wasn't a vampire in this vision. Clenched in his hand hung a crumpled piece of paper that had obviously been read countless times, judging by the state of it. His voice entered my head as he re-read the note:
“Thomas,
I did not know how to tell you this in person. I am with child. It is unlikely – no – it is impossible that this child is Arthur’s. It is yours, Tom. I know that we had planned to set off together and that I would leave him, but things have changed, we have reconciled. I cannot do this to Salem or Arthur. I will raise this baby as his and it will never even know your name. I am sorry Thomas, but you must understand. This is for the best, for us all.
Farewell,
Margaret.”
After one last swig of alcohol, he tossed the bottle furiously at the wall across from him. The bottle shattered and sprinkled tiny pieces of sharp glass all around. His eyes were suddenly alert to the sound of footsteps.
“Who’s there?” he asked with a drunken slur.
No one replied. I watched as a woman with bright red eyes stalked toward him, knelt beside him and frowned at his pitiful appearance.
“What's the matter, doll?” she said with false interest.
“Nothin’ important,” he grumbled.
“I can take away all of your agony,” she offered, taking his chin in her hand. “Would that be ideal for you?”
He simply nodded his head. He regretted his response immediately when the woman bared her fangs and sunk them into the flesh of his throat. His screams were unbearable; he thrashed around in agony as she meant to drain him completely.
“Please...” he whispered hoarsely, “just let me die.”
The woman's eyes fell upon his pleading lips and she laughed, “A beggar, are we?” I watched a trickle of
blood run down her chin. As she went to take his life away, a sudden sound disrupted her and she left him lying limply in the alley.
I was at the house again, staring in through the same window. My heart leapt at the sight of Salem, his appearance was the same as I knew it to be now. He was sitting on the floor with Hannah, playing with a small black cat. Daniel was beside me once more, his appearance different from that in the alley. His cheeks were no longer flushed. His skin was ashen and his amber eyes had a ring of crimson around them. My gaze was averted as I heard an unfamiliar male's voice.
Arthur entered the room and requested that Salem and Hannah retreat to their bedrooms. His expression was calm, but I could see the hurt in his eyes. Once their children were out of the room, Margaret appeared behind him. She looked withdrawn and her eyes showed evidence of recent tears.
“How could you do this to me, Maggie – to our family!?” Arthur's accent reminded me vaguely of his son's. “When? When did this happen!”
“I-I cannot remember exactly, Arthur,” Maggie sobbed. “It wasn't intentional – we were having trouble and…and things got out of hand. Please, you must forgive me!”
Her husband was raging, his fists clenched tightly beside him. “You betrayed me in the worst way!”
“I am sorry, Arthur!”
I wanted to look away, but I was forced to watch. Arthur's hand swiftly met Maggie's cheek. She cried in pain, recoiling from him.
“Arthur!” she screamed, “Please! Do not do this! The children will hear!”
Beside me, Daniel was obviously furious – and perhaps ashamed. I could sense his urgency to protect Maggie, to stop the inevitable brawl between husband and wife, but he couldn't. It would have only made the situation worse.
Arthur's hand met Maggie's cheek once more, and this time she fell to the floor. She curled up in a ball and started sobbing hysterically. Her husband deserted her, leaving through the front door.
The memory I least wanted to see came flooding through my mind. Arthur and Maggie were on better terms. They each slept in the same room, in separate beds. I walked out of their bedroom and down the hall. There was a small fire burning unnoticed in the kitchen. I desperately longed to put it out, to save Salem the grief of what had happened to his family – but it was impossible. My eyes stared in horror as the flames grew higher and higher. They licked at the walls, the furniture, and the beautiful rocking chair. I was standing in the middle of the fire, unharmed as the flames weaved their way down the hall.
