Diary of a Vampeen

by Christin Lovell

  “Good luck,” Mel offered.

  “Thank you,” she smiled. “Make sure you get to bed soon, it’s almost midnight.”

  I looked at the clock in disbelief. “Oh my gosh. It is. Time has flown by.”

  “Definitely,” agreed Mel.

  “I’ll drop you two off in the morning to give you a few extra minutes of sleep. Good night girls,” she said as she walked towards her bedroom.

  “Night Mom,” I called.

  “Night Mrs. Jackson,” Mel added.

  “I guess we should try to get some sleep.” I savored the final bite of my treat.

  “Yea. Thanks for tonight Lex. I really did need a mini-vacay from the insanity at home.”

  “Are you trying to make me cry again?”

  “No. Let’s not,” she laughed.

  “Let’s go to bed.”

  The moment I crawled into bed under the warm covers, exhaustion sunk in. It was easy to fall asleep with such heavy lids, a physical sign of my heavy thoughts.

  Chapter 10

  Something disturbed me in the dead of night. Mel slept soundly through it. The wind was blowing harshly outside forcing branches to slap the house. It didn’t sound like it was raining though I heard something close to sand being thrown at my window.

  “Ugh, I definitely can’t sleep through this,” I spoke aloud as I often did to myself. I might as well go downstairs. Surely my mother was awake if her hearing was as sensitive as she claimed. I slid out of bed and put on my hoodie and slippers before creeping down the stairs. Before hitting the final step, I paused due to a humming noise. I stood frozen attempting to distinguish the sound.

  “Lexi,” I heard my mother call.

  “Are you down here, Mom?” I whispered creeping down the final step.

  “Yes, in the family room.”

  I walked towards the sofa to realize the humming wasn’t an object, it was whispering. Four people sat on the sectional with my mother.

  “Umm…hi,” I stuttered unsure. It was dark and I knew others were sitting with my mother but could only make out figures, not details since the darkness overcast the inaptitude of my eyes.

  “Hey Lexi,” the familiar voice greeted.

  “Sweetie, why don’t you turn on the kitchen light and I’ll introduce you to everyone,” my mother instructed.

  This should have been odd; I mean what parent entertains guests in the dead of night in the dark? Sadly though, it didn’t feel strange. I searched for the light and flipped it on cautiously. Sitting on the couch was my mother, my Aunt Claire, Kellan, a man and a woman I presumed to be his parents since he vaguely resembled them. I suddenly felt awkward, like the odd man out.

  “Come have a seat here,” my mother directed patting the empty space between her and my aunt.

  Seeing my aunt and mother side by side was like seeing a mirrored reflection. The only differences were my aunt had short shoulder length hair, less cleavage, and though she was older, she never had children so her hips were still narrow. When they were younger, my gran dressed them alike pushing a resemblance of twins since they were only a year apart.

  “Umm, what’s going on?” I was bewildered as I sat between them.

  “Well, honey, these are Kellan’s parents,” she stated gesturing toward them with her right hand. “This is his mother, Elizabeth.”

  Kellan’s mother looked nothing like I imagined though I did recognize her from the photo. She’s a gorgeous young woman, slender with auburn hair and soft lips, though her top is a bit fuller than her bottom. She had a heart shaped face that somehow fit her warm, motherly aura. But what caught my attention was her eyes. Kellan got his eyes from his mother though hers were more hazel than green.

  “You can call me Beth,” she said with a friendly smile.

  “And this is his father, Alessandro,” she pointed towards him on the far end of the sectional.

  He was a visually dominant person. His muscles were clearly defined through his blue v-neck t-shirt. There was a sense of mystery and darkness set amongst pain surrounding him; I immediately knew where Kellan got it from. He looked dangerous, yet still approachable and protective over his family. He looked like he belonged in the vampire version of ‘The Sopranos’ but set in the early 1900s for some reason.

  “Are you planning to inform her?” Alessandro asked in a gruff voice with a slight Italian-New York accent.

  “Tell me what?” I looked to my mother for answers.

  She exchanged looks with my aunt before sighing, “I suppose we should warn her just in case.”

  “Warn me?” I was abruptly uneasy.

  “I didn’t go to the office tonight sweetie. We had an emergency VVA meeting.”

  “VVA? What is that?” I was confused and felt slightly overwhelmed by everyone.

  “The Vampire and Vampeen Alliance,” my aunt responded.

  “Is that like some secret society?”

  “No. It’s the only allegiance of our kind,” Beth answered.

  This was growing ever more difficult to understand. The moment I believed to have a handle on the idea of what I was to become, something was shaken and stirred; another angle was abruptly thrown in. I felt like midnight would come Thursday night and I would have more questions than answers, more anxiety than peace.

  I remained overwhelmed by everything. I never knew my life could be turned upside down in less than a week to the point where I was questioning my identity.

  Noticing my silence, my mother took the reins to explain. “Let me explain our history Lexi; this may provide you some answers. You see, the first documented vampeen was Johanne Euskadi. He was born in Romania, but left at the age of sixteen deemed an outcast. His mother did not survive his birth; his father, a vampire, rebuked him ashamed of his human affair. Johanne was a cross between both worlds, yet belonged in neither after his transformation.

  “So he traveled all of Europe, parts of Africa and Asia for a place to call home. He lingered in Germany, Czechoslovakia, France, Italy, the Soviet Union, and Greece, but settled in Basque Country, Spain. He married Araceli Maria Criscencia, a human native, who later gave birth to their daughter Cristianna Rose Euskadi. Like his mother, his wife did not survive labor. Johanne was left to raise his daughter alone. Shortly after her transformation, Cristianna met and fell in love with Juliano Del Torro, a vampire.

  “Johanne despised vampires because of his father’s denial of him and the ridicule he endured from them after his transformation; therefore he forbid his daughter from seeing Juliano. It was over his self-hatred of the vampires that he drove his daughter to flee with Juliano, leaving Johanne alone again. In anger, he dedicated the remainder of his life to the vanquish of vampires near and far, thus setting the precedence of each kind to hate the other.

  “He created a vampeenic tongue comprised of the many areas of the world he knew and loved, but ensured the verbiage was too complicated to be logical in comparison, and converted the language of Basque Country to Euskara. It spread amongst the natives, beginning as slang until it progressed. Johanne married again and had three sons who continued his mission throughout the world.

  “Vampeens, still today, are strict in their association and most seek to kill all vampires they come across. Thus, to protect themselves, the vampires began destroying vampeens in large numbers. Even in Euskadi, as Basque Country is sometimes prevailed, it is divided. The French part of Basque Country inhabits a plethora of vampires, where as vampeens are headquartered within the Spanish regions. And now, a vampire radical is running rampant murdering vampeens during their twenty-four hour transformation.”

  I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know if I could speak. I knew I had an empty scared look on my face, but I couldn’t shake it. This couldn’t be happening. I must be dreaming. This isn’t possible.

  One week ago, I was a normal teen. Then Kellan showed up - okay so he was already there just in the silent backdrop – and since then everything had changed. How could this be real?
You’re only supposed to read about this stuff, see it in movies, not live through it and amongst it.

  “H… How…is…,” I tried to speak but failed.

  Kellan clued in on where I was going and answered the unspoken. “When you go through your transformation, you sleep for twenty-four hours. But it’s not like you do every night. It’s like you’re under anesthesia, you can’t hear or feel anything. So if this vampire took a stake to your heart, you wouldn’t feel it. You also couldn’t prevent it; you can’t move.”

  His mother continued for him in a soothing voice, “You are to be locked away in the dark during this process. Traditionally, you would be placed in a sealed coffin to ensure no light touches you. This is the one time when vampire myths and restrictions apply to you entirely.”

  Though I should have been scared silly at the idea of being locked in a coffin unable to fight off a crazy vampire murderer, I wasn’t. Actually, I suddenly understood the weight placed upon my choice, the choice my mother said was between a human and a vampire. I realized now that my decision forever associates me with one side or another. They didn’t intermingle the way I assumed previously. I could feel the stress across my face as I reveled in this new revelation.

  “Don’t worry sweetie,” my mother said giving me a one-armed embrace at the same time as my aunt.

  “Listen Lexi,” Alessandro stated firmly, “We’ve devised a plan. I’ve been training Kellan for several months to fight off attackers. Since the gender of this assailant is unknown, I feel better with both of us men being there to ward off any attempts. Kellan and I will stand guard. Your aunt, mother and Beth will be on stand-by just in case though I don’t believe it will come to that. I do promise you that you will be safe.”

  “Thank you Al,” my mother offered her gratitude, clutching me even tighter.

  He spoke with such confidence that I felt a bit of peace surround me. I wasn’t okay with this, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t stop fate; I couldn’t prevent what was to come Thursday night at midnight. I merely shook my head in acknowledgement.

  Ugh. I can’t believe vampires want to kill vampeens. And how do they find us anyways? Do we smell different? Hmm… I should ask…

  “Umm…just out of curiosity, how is this vampire tracking me?” I asked cautiously.

  “There are a few ways. First, the master record of all vampeens in the world and their children yet to be transformed is catalogued in Basque Country within a secured data network underground. Recently, this information was hacked, and they’ve yet to find the culprit. Also, we have our distinct scents, but the scent of ,well, you, two weeks prior to your transformation is capable of luring travelers hundreds of miles away. You have a very strong scent right now,” Aunt Claire explained while watching my face intently for any changes in my demeanor due to stress. I swore everyone thought I was going to keel over at any moment due to overload… which could definitely be the case.

  “Great,” I muttered sarcastically. “So in three days I’ll sleep for twenty-hour hours in a coffin dead to the world. I’ll wake up no longer human or I could just not wake up at all if this crazed vampire gets to me. Oh and after I can’t tell a living soul, note the difference, and could possibly lose all my friends and be deemed an outcast!” I huffed in frustration.

  I was enthralled. Four days was definitely not enough time for anyone to accept the terms of this death sentence. What was my mother thinking in keeping this from me until the very end?! And now they’re springing this on me last minute. What more could go wrong in my life?!

  Just as a boy finally noticed me and my life as a teen was evolving into something great, Boom! Smack! Snatch! It’s all gone! Ripped from under me!

  I was angry at my parents for this, at my heritage with its stupid sixteen year stipulation. Unable to hide my distaste, I blurted, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why did you wait until the last freaking minute to divulge it all?” I belligerently balled my hands into fists, centered myself towards my mother and waited for her excuse.

  “I’m sorry Alexa,” she offered in a soft, sincere tone. “Maybe I was in denial. I do not want this life for you, but I cannot change it and neither can you. I promise to be there and help you every way I can, but first you must accept your fate as I have.”

  My body was tense, though I loosened my hands. I peered around the room, looked into the eyes of my new family. I felt silly, selfish for my actions. None of the people before me chose this lifestyle; with the exception of Al, they were born into this. Each one of them received this curse at conception; this was their hereditary disease.

  Shame – I was ashamed of myself. My parents did not raise me to be weak. I’d learned from the strongest woman I knew – my mother. I realized this must have been just as strenuous for all of them as it was for me; why should I feel more entitled than they? Ugh. I’m such a mess, yet not one of them sits here judging me or casting stones at me for my ignorance.

  I sat there in silence, observing each person before me as guilt spread throughout me for at least five minutes. No one spoke recognizing my need for a bit of space mentally. Surprisingly, it was Al who spoke first.

  “Lexi, I know this must be difficult for you, but allow me to share my own story. You are not alone in your uncertainty and struggles.”

  I shook my head once accepting his offer.

  He began, shifting his husky voice into a soothing baritone. “You may be wondering how old I am. To answer that, I was born in 1891 in Savannah, Georgia. My parents were human. A year later my father moved us to upstate New York for his work. My parents were the first of their families to venture to America. My mother was born and raised in Tuscany, Italy and my father was born in Germany as his father was a borrowed soldier in their army, but was raised in Madrid, Spain where his family originates.

  “Upon graduation, my father traveled to Tuscany to study in the wineries. It was there that he met my mother. My father was a brilliant business man. He built a trusted relationship with the owners of the vineyards and agreed to introduce their wines to the finest restaurants in America. He and my mother wed in Tuscany before setting sail for the new world.

  “It was in the middle of the Atlantic that I was conceived. Their ship docked in Savannah and that is where my parents decided to settle for nearly two years. One day, my father read of the upscale mountain resorts and the fine log cabin eateries of upstate New York. The next day he packed us up and we travelled by train to our new home.

  “Growing up in fine restaurants with the gourmet cuisine shared by the social celebrities of that era, I became fascinated with the art of food. So after graduating, I travelled south into the city, New York City that is, in 1923 to the Culinary Academy. It was a tiny school, but captured brilliant chefs of varying cultural backgrounds as instructors.

  “I focused on my studies. I was the first student to arrive and the last to leave. I practiced dicing and pairing, sculpting and searing to the point of insanity. Eventually the head master trusted me with a set of keys to the school. The next night I closed up for the first time alone. It was nearly midnight and the streets were mostly deserted. I lived only three blocks from the school and thus began my tread home.

  “A block from my studio apartment, out of nowhere I was attacked and dragged into a back alley. I felt the bite, the sharp teeth cut into my skin and I went limp. Mentally I was there, and though I felt the pain, I was paralyzed and could not defend myself. Seconds later a dark figure knocked the vampire away from me. The blood poured out of me and I lost consciousness; unaware of what had taken place.

  “When I woke, I was alone in my apartment. My two windows had been nailed shut and black fabric was tacked temporarily to their surface. On the table next to my couch was a letter instructing me to read a book, which ultimately divulged my fate. Within seventy-two hours of my bite, I was a full vampire without a master to guide me. I had to abandon all I knew without understanding what was happening to me.

  “Five years late
r I met Phoenix, a south-western vampire visiting the city by mere impulse. He was created in 1782 at the age of nineteen. He is Native American and was scouring the woods, hunting, when he was attacked. His own father killed the vampire, but they were unable to save him from the poison that lurked in his body. It was Phoenix who saved me from insanity. He took me under his wing and showed me how to survive, how to cope with my new world.

  “It took me forty years to come to terms with my new identity, and another forty to feel normal in any manner. It was then that I met my dear Beth,” he looked into her eyes passionately. For this one brief moment, I felt like I was intruding on a private moment. “She loved me despite what I was or who I killed. She unveiled the human trapped within me and ignited my passion for life.

  “I was never able to see or speak to my parents again. I had to relinquish everything for nothing Lexi. You are far more blessed than I was. For five years, I wandered aimlessly trying to comprehend myths and legends as reality alone. You have the support I needed in numbers. It took me an entire lifetime to come to terms with my transformation, but your laws are different and your lifespan not as infinite,” he warned with sincere concern and prompted awareness on my part.

  “What do you mean?” I asked warily.

  “Both our hearts still beat, but it is far easier to kill a vampeen than a vampire because you are guided by your humanity while we are guided by our instincts. Look what happened to your Gran,” he offered thoughtfully.

  “Wait. What are you talking about? Mom, what happened to Gran?”

  It was only then that I thought back. My gran always appeared far more youthful than she should have. I never saw her past age five, though we talked in length every weekend. We were very close despite our physical distance. The same with Pap, though I never saw him past two.

  “Lexi, that is how our kind die; we are killed,” she answered softly.

  “How? I mean why?” I questioned frantically.

  “The vampire war surges deeper than we let on. We have been destroyed by our own kind in most cases, and occasionally murdered by exposure to the human world,” my aunt responded.