Eternal Darkness, Blood King

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Eternal Darkness, Blood King Page 10

by Gadriel Demartinos


  My sense of smell was useless. My sense of hearing could not identify any heartbeat, and yet she moved. I saw her face, white as the snow, flawless, smooth, and young, her beautiful long red hair resting on her shoulders. Her build was not insignificant; she was close to five feet and ten inches tall and maybe a hundred and twenty-five pounds. She carried herself with confidence, fearless, toward me.

  She was wearing a dark green dress with a pair of black Prada stilettos. Instinctively, I looked down at my Prada shoes. I couldn’t help smiling at the irony of it. I looked up and took in her lips, soft and pink, her neck, slender and smooth. I couldn’t figure out which side of me wanted her more—the man or the immortal.

  For a brief moment, the woman looked at me in silence.

  While staring at each other, I wondered if she was scanning me, just as I was doing with her.

  “You came,” she said in a soft voice.

  The men behind us got in their car.

  I tried to read her thoughts, but I quickly found out that I couldn’t.

  The two men drove off, leaving us alone. The taste of blood was still in my mouth, making me strong.

  “So it is,” I simply said.

  The woman stood in front of me, not caring about our proximity. It was obvious that she knew what I was, while I was not sure of her nature.

  She noticed my confusion and laughed.

  “You’re dead,” I whispered.

  “So are you,” she replied.

  Her words made me grow serious, more confused and angry.

  “What if I finish my night with you?” I suggested, doing my best to scare her.

  She stopped laughing, but a sexy smile hovered on her lips.

  “Try it,” she said, tempting me.

  I wanted to jump on her, to hold her tight, to bite her hard, and savor the taste of her blood; but despite my desire, I didn’t move. There was something amazing about her, something perhaps as powerful as myself; and that uncertainty kept me in check. My lack of resolution made her laugh again.

  “Gitano, you’re confusing me with something else,” she said.

  I pretended that her calling me by my nickname didn’t startle me.

  “What would that be?” I asked.

  Her laughter faded. “With something that can’t hurt you.”

  “Is that what happened to the body you now possess?” I asked, maliciously suggesting that I knew what she had done.

  She looked at herself and then back at me.

  “This?” she asked with a carefree expression on her face, holding out her arms. “I just thought it would be to your liking. Tell me, does it please you? This body doesn’t remind you of someone else?” she added.

  Who or what was this thing that assumed who I knew or what I liked?

  I stood there, weighing her words and her presumption.

  “Are you trapped inside that body?” I asked, trying to understand her.

  “I’m free,” she replied.

  “Can you leave it?” I wanted to know.

  “Where did you first hear me?” she asked.

  “If that were you back in my room, several weeks ago . . . ,” I said, knowing for a fact that was not accurate.

  “Are you certain?” she said, with her own voice now tinged with malice as well.

  I stood there without saying a word, testing her.

  “Who made you bleed?” she suddenly asked.

  Her questions intrigued me.

  “Who made you bleed that night, so long ago, when you wanted the life of the Greek?” she asked again, but this time with authority.

  Her words hit me like a wall. I wasn’t expecting her to mention Amorgos. I felt exposed, cheated and above everything else angry about the fact that she knew that kind of details of my past life.

  “I made myself bleed,” I whispered menacingly.

  Slowly, she shook her head. “That voice, the will, the desire that is in you, as real as your thirst, the one that made you kill men even before you became what you have become, the one that brought you to your knees in front of the Greek, that force has always been me,” she said, equally menacingly.

  I took two steps forward, stopping only inches away from her face.

  “You’re wrong. That was all me,” I said slowly, with confidence.

  “Why are you afraid?” she asked, bringing her lips close to mine.

  We moved closer, toying with the idea of touching each other with our lips, only to pull away, softly, at the very last second.

  “Fear is an obstacle to clarity,” I replied, showing no emotion.

  “I didn’t ask for a definition,” she said, smiling.

  “Take it as a gift,” I replied with a smile.

  “I want nothing but your soul,” she said in all seriousness.

  “My soul, in exchange for what?” I asked, truly amused.

  “Mortal life,” she answered.

  I was expecting almost anything but those words. I felt disarmed, challenged. It had been so long since anyone has had that effect on me. Of course, I did not believe that her claims were true; but the idea of being able to have a life, a fragile life as a mortal man—it was the perfect pitch.

  “Imagine being young, vibrant, and mortal. Would you like that?” she persisted.

  My vampire eyes furiously scanned her body for any sign of humanity, but there was none.

  “Is that possible?” I asked.

  “I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” she answered.

  “For how long?” I wanted to know.

  “A day,” she said.

  Her words, the possibility of my believing in a lie upset me.

  “You’re not a spirit. You are just a witch,” I said, hoping to be right this time.

  This time she was the one who moved closer, smiling. “Perhaps, but this witch has some chips to bargain, don’t you think?” she said.

  I looked straight into her dead and beautiful eyes. “How does it work?” I asked.

  “C’mon, you don’t want me to bore you with science, do you?” she countered.

  “I want to know what will prevent you from not giving me my immortality back,” I said.

  “Oh, your soul is more important to me than that!” she explained.

  I began to circle her, slowly, studying her posture and analyzing her words.

  “You are not what you seem. That body, where did you get it?” I wanted to know.

  “The original owner is gone. She’s with me, and she’s not coming back,” she said.

  “Tell me about her,” I insisted.

  “Whatever for?” she asked, with animosity.

  “Because I want to know more about her,” I said, not letting the matter go that easily.

  “Like what, her zodiac sign?” she said, trying to be evasive.

  “Like how she ended the way she ended,” I said.

  Suddenly, her eyes turned colder, if that was even possible. “The usual OD,” she said.

  I felt her empathy for the body she now possessed and her resolution. I doubted for a moment the possibility of what she was proposing. I stopped circling her and kept my distance, stayed silent.

  “What if I decide to leave?” she asked.

  Her words pushed me even farther from my reality.

  “You’ll be wasting the very last opportunity you’ll ever have to be human again,” she added with a wicked smile.

  I flashed a wicked smile of my own. “I’ll suck dry that hot new body as soon as you turn and walk away. Believe me, in this city, no one will ever notice,” I whispered.

  She kept her smile in place before my words.

  “What do you fear?” I asked.

  “Losing to It,” she replied.

  It, she said. I considered the possibility that she was referring to or implying an opposite force, equally enigmatic as hers. Maybe that same force that the uninformed still call God.

  “In what way?” I pressed the issue.

  “Any,” she explained.

 
Her words made me laugh out loud.

  “This is great! I just got myself in the middle of a struggle for my soul between ‘It’ and you, huh?” I said, trying to provoke a reaction. “Just to make it clear, ‘It’ refers to God, am I right?” I asked.

  “No, there’s no struggle,” she answered.

  I stopped laughing, turned serious, and let my true nature show. “There’s no God,” I whispered.

  “Indeed,” she whispered back with a devilish smile.

  I held my head high, looking down on her. “So you’re saying that you are afraid to lose to an imaginary foe?” I asked

  She stopped smiling. “I’m offering indulgence,” she said very slowly.

  “I think that you’re in way over your head,” I stated.

  “I think you may be considering my offer,” she replied.

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  “I’m the only key through this door. Use me, or risk finding out if what I’m offering is true or not,” she said, walking slowly toward me, and then stopping inches away. “You’ll never know what it’s like to enjoy a walk under the sun one more time, to enjoy a full meal, to make love as a mortal again, to make love to . . .” She let the sentence hang.

  I widened the distance between us, all the while looking into her eyes. Very uncharacteristic of me.

  “Two days,” I said.

  She gave me another of her wicked smiles.

  “I want two full days. We’ll meet tomorrow night at the beach. I’ll bring my immortality, and you will give me two full days as a human,” I proposed.

  She stayed silent. I observed how the spark of life was completely absent from her pupils.

  She broke her silence: “I will wait for you tomorrow night at the beach. If you come, you’ll get to enjoy two days as a mortal.”

  I nodded. “Tomorrow night at three o’clock. Just be there, and I’ll find you,” I confirmed.

  “Then from this Wednesday night until all eternity, your soul will be mine,” she affirmed.

  “Whatever,” I said.

  Still keeping her eyes on me, she walked backward, and then elegantly turned and disappeared around the street corner where I first saw her, leaving me alone.

  “I’ll be waiting, Gitano,” the omnipresent voice whispered in my ears.

  I stood in the middle of the street, still amazed by what had just happened. I was contemplating the possibilities and the reality of the alien force that I just met. I had tried to read her thoughts several times, but it was like trying to go through the thickest of walls. No human had that power over my abilities; but again, this was no human. This was a messenger, sent to tempt me with the perfect bait. A force that did not hide its knowledge of every detail of my existence, and came to me to offer the impossible.

  “Being mortal again,” I said to myself, feeling joy.

  I turned around and walked away, my hand inside my pockets, feeling stronger than before; and for the first time in centuries, I spent the night dreaming about the future.

  *******

  March 9, 2005, 2:24 a.m.

  Miami

  “NO PUEDES HACER ESO!” Frank shouted. “You cannot do it! And let me make a shocking suggestion, from one killer to another: If you do enjoy taking a life as much as you swear you do, why not murder the thing, or at least the body it possessed? Just drain her as soon as you can!” the old man added.

  It was remarkable how annoying his voice was. I figured that his numerous victims were somehow relieved just before their deaths knowing that at least they would never have to put up with his voice again. I knew it was a mistake to tell him about my encounter with the woman, but I had my doubts; and quite frankly, I needed to hear an opinion, even if it came from a creature like him.

  I stood there and watched him pacing about in his living room like a lion inside a cage, until he suddenly stopped, turned, and looked at me.

  “I want you to get inside my mind. I need you to feel what I felt when I tried to reach for it, when I felt its power,” he said.

  “I don’t need to. I already met with it,” I said.

  “Don’t play with me! There’s no time for that here. You do realize that it is clever enough to be counting upon your evil nature in this little scheme?” he asked.

  Evil nature, what does he know about evil? Why do most killers think they are evil when killing is natural in every species? I thought.

  “It handpicked you for this deal, just as it did with that poor woman’s body. It knows what you crave deep inside. It knows your will, your curiosity, and your fearlessness. Besides, it can fairly well assume that you won’t listen to a damn word of warning from me,” Frank continued.

  Necessities. In the end, we come back to that very first principle in all of us.

  “Interesting. What else do you know?” I asked.

  “¿Qué más necesitas saber?” he replied with another question. “What else you need to know?”

  “I want to understand this,” I said bluntly.

  “We are talking about giving up, willingly, all your gifts and your immortality,” Frank said, gesturing with his hands.

  “I know,” I replied, trying not to think much in my own words.

  “You can’t do it! You have sacrificed too much! All would have been in vain!” the old man shouted.

  That was it! Enough with the drama. Less from a drunken bastard like Frank. That was the notion going on inside my head while I looking outside from one of his windows.

  “Hold that thought. Forget about draining her. It’s better to smash her skull. Take her by surprise and see to it that you smash her cranium as you might do a raw egg,” he said loud enough for me to hear.

  I turned to him. His face was covered with sweat, and he was breathless.

  “If it’s not too much to ask, take me with you when you do. I would like to watch,” he added, this time almost shyly.

  His wicked fiber made me smile.

  “Has been awhile since I see you this worked up, old man. I almost like you this way,” I confessed.

  “That’s because I know your thoughts, and I know you are thinking of going on with this deal. This stupid deal!” he shouted.

  I saw his red, disoriented eyes sinking in alcohol.

  “No, you can’t read my thoughts. But yes, so far, yes,” I confirmed.

  “No, it can’t be. I don’t believe it. You’re so desperately fond of being you,” he continued.

  “I have been alive for over two centuries, and yet I have never felt more dead than when that thing talked to me of the possibility of being a mortal man again,” I said, more to myself.

  Frank was quiet.

  “Maybe there’s a way, a trick to learn something that can be offered to those that no longer want this,” I continued.

  “Estás hablando acerca de alguien más,” the old man said. “You’re talking about someone else.”

  His words made me angry. Suddenly, it seemed as though everybody had enough authority to make an opinion on my life. But I was not going to let a drunken fool upset me.

  “I go to go,” I said, turning toward the back exit of the house.

  “You must understand how destructive and vicious this thing is. You can’t give up your powers to it. Listen, if it was only you who wanted to be a mortal man again, I will still be against it. What’s so great about being human anyway? Nevertheless, don’t surrender your powers and your soul to an evil force so far more cunning than yourself,” the old man pleaded.

  I smiled, stopped, and turned, looking at Frank over my right shoulder.

  “I’m the cunning evil force,” I said.

  The old man breathing was becoming more difficult and his heartbeat more irregular.

  “Give up your powers, and we’ll see,” Frank said with difficulty.

  I turned again walking toward the back door.

  “Please stay. Let me try to talk you out of this. You owe me as much!” he shouted.

  I was determined to see the woman again,
to find out if it was true that she could grant me a life as a mortal. Yes! I was going to accept the offer.

  I reached the door and briefly stopped and turned to look back at Frank one more time. The old man instinctively stopped following me and took two steps backward. I saw the alarmed expression on his face. No doubt, my vampire eyes scared the living night lights out of him.

 

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