The Dhampir Dimension

by Viktoria Alukard

  It was not any of these visions that roused him from his rest, but the cry of a child, that could have been the dhampir’s downfall, as the grace of his human side, his parental instincts took over. He was still underneath the bell and when he peered out from beneath the giant golden structure, it was already evening fall, safe enough to where the rays of the sun wouldn’t burn him to a crisp. He heard the child’s cry from so far away yet so close, coming from within the cathedral itself, so he broke in the same way he had broken in the night before, with the only problem now was all the armed guards surrounding all perimeters of the cathedral.

  “If only I could make myself invisible…”he thought to himself, when his crystal crescent moon pendant glowed, and the idea quickly came to him like a guide in the form of intuition in his thoughts. He sat, cross-legged, closing his eyes and levitating in the air, succumbing to a deep meditation that made him feel weightless. Enttu was suddenly floating in the air again, this time without feeling of heaviness though he carried all his weaponry and was still wearing his warrior clothing. It was when he looked behind him, that he saw his own body sitting cross legged, at the ledge of an out-of-the -way steeple of the cathedral. Successful astral projection! His abilities were slowly all coming back to him as he remembered his metaphysical gifts and talents he was birth-righted with. He descended into the raging crowd and remained calm, until one woman kept looking into his eyes. He looked back at her puzzled.

  “Oh miss, you can see me?”

  The woman, a black-haired, honey-eyed maiden in a pink gown with a black sash, stared and tried to decipher the transparent figure of a tall silver-haired man in front of her. No one else apparently seemed to notice this apparition but her, and Enttu just kept on his way to the child’s cries. Past the rows of pews, past the roasted body of Magalesti, past the left passage where there was still a bloody pile of church helper and prostitute, towards the left flank of the church, and behind a red wooden door, there was a long spiral flight of stairs that was dark without any lamps in sight. The dhampir-projection had to rely on his own blue aura to guide him down the flight of stairs. It reeked of rat carcass, humidity, stale urine, and crawling vermin. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, a glimpse of light from the city’s lamp posts did illuminate the outline of prison bars and he could count about two cells, the one imprisoning a crying child to his left. He made his way to it, and noticed a young boy, wearing a cream-colored tunic, black pants, and no shoes inside the cell, the little crying boy curled up with his knees to his chest.

  “Hey little boy, little boy! Can you hear me?” Enttu whispered in a soft, deep voice.

  The young lad behind bars did manage to hear the voice of the astral projection of the dhampir and listened as he made every effort to get him out, before realizing that he could not physically touch anything with effect in this state.

  “Little boy, I need you to wait for me. I will not take more than a minute, I promise,”

  The boy started sobbing,

  “Please don’t leave me here, they will feed me to the Centaurian!”

  The dhampir compassionately convinced the little boy that he wouldn’t take long at all and to count down from 30, and by the time he was done counting, he would be back. Skeptical, but still grateful to be rescued, the boy began,

  “30, 29, 28, 27, 26”

  Enttu rushed back up the spiral staircase before he heard the ground shake beneath him and he heard a deep, guttural growl that even startled the soul out of his already-wandering soul, and the noise came from the back of the cell to the right, behind a stone slab. He rushed back to his body very quickly and was back within his physical body in ten seconds. He then used his vampiric speed to dash his way through the mob in front of the church, and back down to the staircase, back down to the cells, where the trembling occurred in rhythms now with the sound of approaching footsteps, and the boy said “one”, before he announced his return. He slashed the lock in one clean swipe of a double-edged sword he possessed, with red dragons and rubies adorning the blade, and the rusty lock clanked when it hit the ground of rock and loose dirt.

  The dhampir went in the cell and the little boy jumped arms. He was clutching him like a father that was desperate to find a missing son would, and he cherished the moment of comforting a teary child, as the boy rested his face in the crook of his neck, a blanket of silvery blonde hair shielding him. He felt small and undernourished as the dhampir held the boy close to his chest.

  “Little boy, what is your name?”

  “Raphael,” the boy replied in a tiny, shaky voice.

  “Raphael, my name is Enttu, I’m going to get you home, and I’m going to get you out if here……..

  “Wait sir, aren’t you the vampire Enttu?”

  “I would be he,” the prince calmly stated, as he picked up the little boy, and cradled his tiny legs on his forearms.

  “Wait, you are not going to eat me, are you? You are a vampire, sir!” panicked Raphael.

  Enttu chuckled gently, expression soft, “I’m not going to eat you, young lad, don’t worry. I’m one of the nice vampires, well one of the nicer ones, and I have a daughter about your age, she is……”

  RWAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWRRRRRGHHHGGH­GHRRR!

  The dhampir and the boy were scared right out of their wits by the deafening roar of the creature that had just joined them in the cell catacombs. It was in the visible shape of an arachnid body, but the face of a goat with many eyes, and two sharp, pointed horns, with threatening glowing green eyes. Its black body was covered in many spines and bristles, and a deathly stench of vinegar and decay rose from its underbelly.

  Enttu was as equally afraid of this monster as little Raphael was, but he knew that if he did not put up a fight, they would both be dead. He placed Raphael in the safe corner of the left cell wall and the stairs. He then lunged towards the highly enraged, growling creature that was foaming at the mouth and revealed rows of black-stained pointy teeth. It growled and spat venom toward the dhampir. He began to hack at the creatures legs and successfully severed off two front legs before sliding underneath its belly, to slash it open, but its underbelly was lined with steel that leaked an acidic substance, melting anything it touched. Enttu was able to dodge a belly crush, and was prepared to go for its fangs, before he noticed baby spiders, still as monstrous and hideous, spawning from its back. He rushed to Raphael’s side and put the child on his back, handing the child a glowing blue dagger made of crystal.

  “When I tell you, you stab that thing right between the eyes!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, almost being overpowered by the shrills and shrieks of the spiderlings and their mother. The spiderlings jumped at both, but just in time, he crossed his arms, and into the air, he shouted an incantation.

  “Incendium Statu Omega!”

  Waves of fire shot from the dhampir’s white hands at the jumping spiderlings, and with the remaining fire spell, he drew a circle around the spider-goat, entrapping the beast, the heat evoking deafening shrieks. Enttu and Raphael both leaped in the air, and when they were over the beast’s eyes. He motioned Raphael to look right in the center on top of the eyes, where there was a hole outlined in blue light.

  “Now kid, in for the kill!” he shouted as he leaned in and drove his double-edged sword down the snout of the beast, driving the sword through the roof of its mouth and jaw. Raphael, who was leaning back of Enttu’s shoulder, while the other one grabbed him by his calves, drove the crystal dagger through the hole between the monster’s eyes, causing the thing to emit the cry of death. Raphael pulled the dagger away in time, before they both ran away from the dying creature. Shortly after it was writhing on the ground from the fatal blow, it suddenly exploded its guts and gore all over the cell walls, repainting them with slick green slime that reeked of vinegar and rotting flesh.

  Enttu vomited a stream of blood, from repulsion, wiping the rest away with the back of his hand.
He placed Raphael on his back and they abandoned the catacombs. They inconspicuously made their way back up to fresh air, where most of the citizens had finally left back to their abodes.

  After cleaning up and getting to know each other under a moonlit conversation, where the dhampir kept the boy warm under his cape, he knew that he had to get the boy to his house and couldn’t keep him out forever. He came to learn that Raphael was missing for almost two weeks, because he was kidnapped by Jedidiah’s clergymen. He was ransom for Raphael’s parents to revert their divorce caused by Raphael’s father’s alcohol problem. His father was a soldier, and the unkindness of war turned the man into a raging drunk.

  The little boy had stated that his father was amazing at being a father when he didn’t drink but was always too sleepy or too mad and would say mean things to him and his mother when he did drink. Reluctantly, Enttu did return the boy to his parents….and much to his surprise, the man who opened the door, was the same man he fought in the tavern.

  “Raphael….,” said the man, this time not reeking of stale vodka and urine, but of the hearth of burning pine in the home. He noticed the silver haired vampire from the bar as well. Those eyes, those piercing cobalt eyes, were gentler in this second confrontation.

  “You,” he bellowed threateningly, his eyes squinting at Enttu, “You…you saved my son and brought him back. I would’ve never thought I’d live to see the day where I’m thanking a vampire for saving my child. The war between humans and your kind seems utterly senseless.”

  Enttu nodded in silent acknowledgement.

  “We’re not all killers like your priest has made us out to be. But there is no peace without war. Just know I am not your enemy.”

  He extended a firm handshake out to the father, a stocky tall Romanian with scruffy dark hair and a beard, dressed in a tunic, and suede trousers.

  “Thank you for saving his life and bringing me my life back. The next time I see you at a bar…. allow me to pay your drink, food, anything. It is the least I can do,” the grateful father said. Enttu smiled gently, cape flowing in the direction of the wind.

  “Next time I come back to Meytros, I will take you to the vineyards of the aristocrats, you, your wife, and your son. Farewell for now, I only ask that you keep the peace for the sake of this town, for your children, teach them compassion. We have seen the ruthless aftermath of war, you and me. I will return, you have my word. Keep this as a token,” Enttu bowed, as he handed the man his silver dagger encrusted with emeralds and embossed with the Selenian crest.

  “Thank you Prince Enttu, be safe on your travels,” the man said as he felt the cold metal of the gifted weapon in the palms of his hands.

  The dhampir began his ascent into the frigid air of winter, the gift of flight granting him the ability to float away. His silk cape graciously followed the movement of the wind.

  “Mister Tepes, where are you going?” Raphael shouted in the distance.

  “Far. But I will return,” he affirmed floating toward the moonlight.

  And really, lord only knew when he would return. As the blonde undead prince flew above his city, after returning the boy to safety, he felt a deeper purpose, almost a calling awaken within him. For that one child, could there be countless others? Moonlight was burning away if he put himself to ponder too much. Enttu flew away, to accomplish many things he had never thought of before. The possibilities were endless now, and such was the duality. Immortality was a gift and a curse. One had endless times to start over, or a millennium of melancholy, but for now, they were a symbiosis within him. Peace did not exist without war, and he ebbed into his role of playing the dark side of divinity.

  CH. 2

  “ALL ENDS AND BEGINS

  WITH A DD-214”

  A spell of jet lag was still enchanted upon Regina, as she lay in the comfortable hotel bed by herself, in a gray nightshirt with a pink bow in the center of the neckline. She wiggled her bare toes underneath the fluffy white comforter, which enveloped her entire body under it. The channels on TV were all in Romanian which she did not speak a lick of.

  “I am going to need Rosetta Stone here soon” she thought out loud, “but I’d rather be here than there. Ahh, I made it out alive…”

  Next to her nightstand she reached over for a barely-touched glass filled one-third of the way with a local Romanian wine she purchased at a duty-free shop at the airport in Bucharest. It was slightly sweet, and the best thing she had ever tasted after an exhausting 20-hour flight.

  She took a sip and leaned back into a squishy memory foam pillow that contoured to her back. It was so hard to believe that this would be the first day of the rest of her life, all by herself, after so many people, including her own self, doubted her. Within a week or two of arrival, she would start a new job working as an electrical plant technician for a private engineering and power company in Bucharest, that hired foreign nationals, as well as military veterans from all over the world. She had qualified for the position as she had been a former Electrician’s Mate in the Navy, she had skills in motor and generator maintenance, she was a U.S. citizen, and spoke English. The job highly preferred English-speaking workers, as her place of employment was associated with and had an accredited membership with the IBEW.

  Regina had traveled to Europe before, for free, when she used to be a Sailor, and she used to tour countries. On occasion, she’d get lushly intoxicated with her comrades from her ship. The glass she drank out of had her former ship’s emblem stamped on the side of the glass, in gold foil. USS San Diego, LPD 22. Good people on the ship, but I will never look back. I’m glad to be out and free. Thoughts of the past ran as a short movie in her mind, of the good memories, the very bad memories and events that transpired to her eventually having to leave the Navy for good. Over and over she reassured herself that she did the right thing for herself by leaving everything behind in San Diego, and the future was going to work out just fine. One more glass of wine combined with jet lag, and she went back to sleep, the TV still on, but on mute.

  The elegant hotel room she stayed in was so empty, comfortable, only filled with her own company that she longed for again to keep her through the night. She briefly got up to turn the TV off with a remote and buried her face back into the pillow. The distant sounds of zipping traffic blended beautifully with the falling rain that kissed the glass window on the right side of the room, a lullaby that carried her right to sleep. The floors were red carpet, which wouldn’t be a bad thing to step into when she woke up, vice a cold tile floor. She was alone indeed, but she didn’t mind her loneliness.

  At least you think you’re alone, I’ve been watching and waiting for you since before your arrival. You will never be alone again. She’d been noticed immediately by the locals and they easily picked up that she wasn’t from there. Unknowingly, at least right now, she’d also attract the specific attention of certain individuals who would come to linger around her and make slivers of their presence known. It would initially come as dreams. Regina did feel like she was being watched but put it off to her exhaustion and emotional baggage that accompanied her from California.

  Her friends in San Diego would have probably urged her to go out to the night clubs in town, where plenty of Romanian youth partied until the wee hours of the night. With the dreams that she could recall, she dreamt herself among stars, a vivid theater of twinkling bodies all around her, she saw planets very up and close, gravitating to her, the moon, pink and purple gas clouds of supernovas, she even saw aliens in her dream. And that is when she woke up, gasping for breath, heart pounding out of her chest, breathing heavily trying to regain her composure. She grabbed her iPhone from the charger. Time was 3:15 AM. Frantically, she scanned the room and turned on all the lights after she thought she’d seen a tall slim shadow by the threshold. When the lights came on there was no one there, and again, she deduced it to passing traffic. She sighed and went back to sleep, hopefully not to another ni
ghtmare about aliens.

  The next dream seemed interconnected, and she saw a blue-skinned lady in front of red pyramids. As she tried to make the meaning of this dream, her phone alarm sounded off and pulled her out of the dream, into a groggy awakening. It was 10:00 AM, and the soft light of overcast weather filled the room. Regina had slept in slightly later than she intended to, but she started her day when her feet touched the plush red carpet, that felt like walking on a cloud.

  Even though she didn’t wake as early as she expected, she did shower, fix herself up decently with light makeup of eyeliner and lip-gloss, and threw on the first pair of black leggings she managed to pull out of her suitcase. Still with a slight jet lag, a nice cup of coffee sounded splendid just about now. She was curious as to what kinds of different coffees Romania had to offer. She threw on a long, maroon cardigan, grabbed her black Louis Vuitton, ensuring she had her wallet, cellular, lip-gloss, and AirPods, and lastly slipped her feet into black leather boots that reached midcalf. She made her way from the elevator, to the lobby, and out into a calm yet overcast day. The hotel she stayed in was situated in an alley full of antique shops, bistros, and cafes. All the buildings in this alley were all made of stone and brick, and the street was cobblestone, for pedestrians only, with overhanging arches of bougainvillea flowers and wispy willow trees. It was a historic, scenic area, now bustling with small, and local modern businesses.

  Shortly before reaching the end of the alley, she found a café bistro with an awning of vines and decided to have breakfast in there. She ordered an extravagant latte with intricate designs swirled into the foam, served in a rustic clay cup, and took the first sip, the rush and instant relief of caffeine soothing her slight headache and enlivening her senses. A male waiter in white shirt and black slacks brought her a plate with a mini frittata and two small, flaky, freshly baked croissants with a small cup of sweet butter. She ate salaciously, as if she hadn’t eaten in ages, until she pulled out her iPhone to browse things to do in Bucharest. An art museum which was the first item on the drop-down list from her Google Safari search caught her attention.