by Tia Wylder
Her mouth was opened and a pair of stone fangs filled the open space between her lips. She was like me, but that was where the similarities ended. The whispers in my mind grew louder as I stood in the statue’s presence. Within days those whispers would turn to screams. My chiseled and healthy body would start breaking down and a pain beyond description would tear through me.
I wouldn’t die, no matter how long I endured the pain, death would never come. I tried countless times to resist the statue’s call, but sooner or later I would give in to its call, if only to return to the numbness of my everyday life.
“I have come to answer your call. You will have your pound of flesh, and the cycle will begin anew,” I said.
The seductive voice in my mind cackled with laughter. It understood me, despite the fact that I did not know what it said. I approached the statue and held out my arm. The slender stone fingers of the goddess’ outstretched hand clamped down onto my forearm. I was pulled off the ground as she brought my wrist to her stone fangs.
They slid into my flesh as if they were sharpened knives. My vision went dark, and for a brief moment I was taken back to the night when I first encountered this statue. I caught a quick glimpse of my fellow warriors after we collapsed into that underground chamber. I remembered the pain in my side from the spear that had cut into my stomach.
Blood gushed from the wound as I laid on that sandy ground. I remembered the statue calling out to me in that same voice, that same rotten language. It offered an alternative to death, but I did not want any part of its black magic. Somehow, though, somehow I had given in and offered myself to it. How and why I did such a thing still escapes me. The statue finished draining me and I felt myself reduced to nothing.
I emerged from those ashes as nothing more than flesh and blood. I had no bones, no eyes, nor ears. I was reduced to a basic and useless form of life with only a long sharp tube protruding from my disgusting and primordial form. I would need blood, life force that could help me rebuild my body until I was human again. Just when I achieved my human form, the statue would demand another sacrifice.
And so the cycle continued, on and on through the centuries without end.
Chapter Two
When we’re born, we’re told we can do anything, be anything. I grew up in the slums of Moscow, surrounded by gopniki, children of the slums who became Russian mobsters, but my parents told me I could be anything I wanted. I didn’t know anything better than the rundown streets and the iron fist of the mob until I was much, much older. Despite everything, I believed them for a long time.
How stupid I was to think that. Happiness and privilege are something you’re born into. If you draw a bad hand, then you have to play the cards you’re dealt. I was sixteen when the mobsters killed my mother and father. No doubt it had something to do with money, it always does, but they didn’t kill me. No, they kidnapped me instead. I was dressed up, shown off, and idolized by powerful men with nothing but time and money on their hands.
They wanted to sell me off to a scumbag who would abuse me and use me for his own personal pleasure. They dangled me like a carrot on a stick, taking orders that would go into effect when I was old enough to be sold to them. It disgusted me beyond words. The only thing that kept me going was hope that one day I would escape. One day, I would be free. Now that I was a fully grown woman, they would sell me off to the highest bidder again and again. I couldn’t wait any longer, that day was today.
I was dressed in high heels with a tight leather dress that clung tightly to my body from head to toe. I had grown into an attractive woman. I knew this by the way men looked at me. They required me to stay in shape for potential investors, but I went above and beyond to become stronger and faster. They looked at me and saw a frail woman, but underneath the snowy white skin and womanly curves burned a fire that would reduce them to ash.
It was night, the moon hung high in the Moscow sky. A large thug sat beside me in the backseat. I felt his eyes exploring my body. After years of moments like this, they still made me sick to my stomach. It wasn’t something I could ever get used to. The keys were still in the ignition and the engine was running. The driver said he would be back soon to get me. When he came back, I wouldn’t be here.
More so than strength, what I needed most was courage. Any attempt to escape from the clutches of these men would most likely result in my death. I had only one shot at this, and I couldn’t afford to mess it up. I kept the upper half of my body still as I slowly slid one of the heels off my foot.
I reached down to the shoe and felt the cool metal of a small knife across the surface of the heel, buried just beneath the fabric on the slope of the shoe.
“What’re you doing?” the thug asked.
I looked over and saw his eyes wandering down my backside where the dress revealed open skin in the center.
“I have an itch. Don’t worry, just enjoy the view,” I said, trying not to let my disgust come through.
The thug grunted and continued staring me down as I pried the hidden blade out of the shoe. When I had it in my hand I sat back up. My entire body pounded with each racing heartbeat as I clutched the knife beyond the thug’s view. It’s now or never.
I looked over to him and felt my stomach turn as I saw his thick and scarred face. He had uneven stubble, numerous slashes of scarred tissue through his face, and a nose that had been broken more times than it healed itself. He was mesmerized, which meant his guard was down.
“How long until the driver comes back?” I asked.
“Shouldn’t be much longer, why?” he replied.
“Oh I don’t know, I was just thinking that maybe we could have some fun while we wait?”
The thug’s beady eyes opened wide. I could see sweat building up on his brow as he eagerly licked his lips. Just wait for the right moment.
“Come here, and let me show you what you’re missing,” I whispered.
His grubby hands traced a line from my shoulders to my breasts as he leaned in closer. I smelled cigarettes and vodka on his breath as he awkwardly groped my body. I turned the knife around so the blade was facing outward just as his scraggly lips touched mine.
I gripped the handle and drove the blade deep into the left side of his neck until only the handle remained. The thug fell backward, choking on his own blood as he desperately reached for the knife. I dove out of the car door, kicked my heels away, and climbed into the driver’s seat. The engine was already running, so I put the car into drive and slammed the gas. I thought I could make out the horrified yelling of the driver behind us as we sped off.
The thug in the backseat soon stopped his struggles. As I sped through the deserted streets, I stole a glance in the rearview mirror to make sure he was down for the count. My eyes met his just as he wrapped his hands around my throat. His strength was waning, but he gripped me tight enough to make my vision start to blur.
The car swerved off the road and down into a ditch. We hit a tree during our descent and my head shot forward with the sudden stop. I slammed into the steering wheel and everything went black.
When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed. White sheets surrounded me as I took in the wires that ran into my veins and into devices that were affixed to my body. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor beside the bed told me I was still alive. I wasn’t sure if that was a miracle, or if I would have been better off dead in the wreck.
I sat up and felt pain shoot through my head and down my side. It didn’t matter, if they found me here, I was done for. I had to get out and find a way out of this country. I grabbed the I.V. that they had running liquid into my arm and ripped it out. I pulled the clips off of my body and fingers, and threw the sheets over the side.
The door to the room I was in swung open. I froze in panic for a brief moment and then laid back into the bed, hoping and praying that it was simply a doctor or a nurse. Instead, I saw a businessman enter. He had a perfectly manicured haircut, a fine business suit, and a solid red tie.
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The wrinkles on his face and the cold ice behind his gaze told me he wasn’t my type, but he was far more inviting than most of the men I had known in my life. Still, he could work for them, I couldn’t let my guard down.
He picked up the clipboard at the foot of my bed and looked it over.
“Jane Doe, that’s not your name, is it Natalia?” he asked.
My heart stopped. No one but my captors knew my name, he had to be one of them.
“Please, don’t kill me! I’ll go back, I promise!” I shouted.
The man raised one of his gloved hands and silenced me.
“I don’t know who you’re running from, and frankly I don’t care. I represent a powerful businessman who specializes in mail-order brides from around the world. I have reviewed the current options with him and he believes you will make an excellent wife. If you come with me now, I can not only promise your immediate safety, but also a life of luxury. I don’t have much time, so you must decide now.”
I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by “mail-order bride,” but if he wasn’t with my captors, he was a way out. By all accounts I should have been dead, so I wasn’t about to turn down a second chance.
“Yes, fine, I’ll come with you. When do we leave?”
The businessman reached over to the bag with my clothes in it and threw it onto the bed. “We leave now. Get dressed.”
Chapter Three
I could not stand the sight of myself during the initial days of the cycle. When the statue drained me, it reduced me to nothing. It was the closest to a true death that I could feel. I always came back as a creature with no certain form or shape. Until I fed on blood, I was nothing more than a grotesque creature made from flesh and with nothing but a long bony tube with which to feed.
I could barely move. I usually spent my first nights in this broken and simple form beside the statue that had cursed me with this eternal existence. Soon, Richard would arrive with another wife to call my own. He was instructed never to enter the vault while I was in this form. Similarly, my new wife was to be blindfolded with her hands tied behind her back.
The hunger for blood struck at me with a vengeful pain that emanated from my very soul. I had no form, no nerves, or body to harm. No, this was beyond a physical hunger, it was a spiritual and supernatural one. The door to the vault swung open, and though I could not hear it, I could feel the presence of a healthy young woman. I acted out of instinct. I was not gentle, but I was precise. The crude feeding tube that emerged from my shapeless form shot into the skin at the base of her neck.
Blood flowed freely into me, and I felt myself coming back from the brink. Death, once again, was forced to watch as I drank the life of another and took my first uncertain steps back into my miserable and cursed life. She was terrified, I could taste it with every drop I took from her. That was normal, they were always scared at first.
I pulled the tube back and retreated into the shadows behind the statue. Learning restraint was perhaps the most difficult part of my existence. When I tasted blood, all I wished was to drink until there was none left. It was a lust that couldn’t be satiated, but there were limits. I only took what I needed, and no more.
Richard entered the room, I felt his presence next. He guided my new wife out. She was alive thanks to my restraint. As instructed, he left the door open so I could emerge when the time was right. We had done this countless time since he was first taken into my employment. One of my wives had been his mother. Before she died, she begged me to take care of her son. She was one of the few I truly loved, so I obliged.
Richard spent his entire life working for me in one capacity or another. He was the only person I trusted in this world. As the blood of this new wife surged through me, I was given form. Arms and legs grew from my uncertain shape. A body with bones, a head, eyes, a mouth, and a nose also took shape.
I still lacked true skin to cover my newly formed body. I walked awkwardly on brand new legs like a toddler to the entrance of the vault. Hanging on a hook beside the entrance was a long red robe with a hood that I wore at this stage in the cycle. Richard knew to have it washed and waiting for me after my first feeding. I draped the robe over me and pulled the hood over my head. Richard was waiting for me outside the entrance to the vault.
I saw my new wife for the first time as the vault door slowly closed behind me. She was sprawled out on top of the sheets. She wore a silk nightgown that fit her perfectly. Her jet black hair was spread out behind her on the pillow. Her snowy white skin matched the shade of moonlight pouring in through the nearby window.
Looking upon her, my hollow and cold heart felt something for the first time in hundreds of years. She looked just like her. I could barely remember her face after all this time, but before these mail-order wives I once had a true love. One that I left behind to fight in someone else’s war. This woman laying before me was a spitting image of her. Her beauty cut through the immortal curse that separated me from her all this time.
“She’s perfect, Richard, utterly perfect,” I whispered.
“I’m glad you agree, sir. She looked exactly how you described your true wife. I thought, after the last one, you needed someone you could talk to, perhaps even love.”
I shook my head. “I’m incapable of love, Richard.”
“With all due respect, sir, one does not require a beating heart to feel love.”
I felt a tear welling up behind my freshly formed eyes. I turned away from her and looked to the open door.
“You’re a good friend, Richard. What is her name?” I asked.
“It’s Natalia, sir.”
“Have a meal prepared for her. I will need to feed again soon and she needs her strength.”
“Right away, sir.”
“Oh, and Richard?”
He turned and looked at me and I at him.
“While I appreciate what you did, we will not speak of her again. Are we clear?”
Richard nodded. “Yes, sir, I understand.”
I made my way to the banquet hall and sat at the end of the long, intricately crafted table. This place was the definition of luxury, of success and wealth, and yet I could enjoy none of it. I only used it as a place to my make my wives feel comfortable and safe. It was nothing more than an illusion.
Richard’s gesture stirred up old emotions and memories that I had long thought forgotten. Seeing my new wife, Natalia, reminded me of her. Her name was Reyna, and she looked just like her. My mind wandered back, hundreds of years, to the last night I saw my true wife, the night before our expedition into the forbidden tombs.
I was a prized soldier back then. I fought and died beside warriors for a place that no longer exists. It cannot be found in history books, our enemies made certain of that when they crushed us beneath their heel. We knew we were losing, but our military leaders insisted that we push forward and die with honor if we must.
Reyna didn’t want me to go. She begged me to stay. I recalled the night we sat in our bedroom, surrounded by luxuries which only that time could afford. We argued by candlelight as electricity was a far-flung fantasy from that time period.
“It is madness! The king has gone mad, can’t you see that, Constantin?”
“Mad or no, Reyna, he is my king and I must follow him!”
Reyna threw her hands up and stepped back into the darkness. The candlelight briefly illuminated the silk dress she wore. Made from the finest of materials our dwindling empire could offer. We had both returned that night from a somber celebration of tomorrow’s final push into the enemy’s land. Reyna looked indescribably beautiful. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on. I would say that again even now hundreds of years into the future, even after countless wives that came and went, she was perfection.
“Where must you follow him, Constantin? Into death? Because that is where he marches his armies when the sun rises!”
I crossed the gap between us and took her hands into mine. She wouldn’t look directly at me, b
ut I saw the candlelight flickering in her endless blue eyes.
“I will come back to you, my love. I always do.”
Reyna pulled back and wiped tears from her eyes. “I can’t believe you, Constantin, not this time.”
I wrapped my arm around her back and pulled her into me. We locked eyes and I gazed deeply into hers.
“Very well, then believe this: I love you, and no matter how far apart the winds of time may carry us, I will always find my way back to you,” I whispered.
The tears welled up in her eyes as her soft hands grazed my face.
“I love you too. Please, don’t go.”
“Very well, tomorrow when the king’s army marches to the east, we shall go to the west, together.”
“Truly?” she asked.
“I swear it.”
She smiled through the tears and pressed her lips to mine. Even after hundreds of years, I could still feel her passionate kiss against my lips. I felt the heat that emanated from the fires of our love. Her hands desperately tried to undo her clothing. I reached down and gripped the frilled centerpiece of her dress.
“Here, like this,” I said, as I tore open the front of her dress. One of her soft white breasts spilled out from within. I cupped it with one hand as I furiously tore off the rest of her dress. She laughed and grinned. Her hands gripped the waistband of my leggings and wrenched them downward. My thin shirt tore like parchment when faced with her passion. We were both naked within seconds. Our tongues danced as our lips never left each other’s embrace. I lifted her up and sat her upon the intricately crafted dresser where we stored our clothing. As her hands slid down my back, I softly kissed her neck, tracing a line down to her thick and curvaceous breasts.
I lifted one with my hand and it slid it into my mouth. I gently suckled on her as my hand slid up her thigh. My fingers slid into her with ease as she begged me to take her. I pushed her legs apart and stepped forward. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I gripped her waist as I thrusted forward into her.
