The Dhampir Dimension

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The Dhampir Dimension Page 13

by Viktoria Alukard


  The Dragul hated them for being the descendants of Alucard, the son of Dracula, who led a revolution against his own father but lost his own life during battle. Alucard regarded human life with the same respect that he did any other vampire, from royal, to the servant. Legend told that Alucard was the very first “dhampir,” an unholy genetic scion birthed live, after the carnal fusion between a human and a vampire. He kept on with this tradition with later descendants, with his human wife, a witch named Elvira. The Tepes coven was split into two covens in the late 1400’s, with the Dragul, who followed in Dracula’s footsteps staying behind near Targoviste. They sometimes referred to themselves as Sekhmeti because they all worshipped effigies of the vampiric Egyptian goddess, Sekhmet. They thought that Sekhmet favored them, but nothing could be further from the truth. Alucard called them the Dragul, because they followed his father’s wicked and merciless ways to achieve longevity. The Selenians, called “Alucardians” by the Dragul, who followed the more benevolent, but still sanguine ways of the Moon Goddess, emancipated themselves and marched southwest to Wallachia, forming their coven.

  They never drank human blood without consent, as doing so was punishable by death under sunlight. Post-bellum in the dawn of the 21st century, Prince Enttu had broken that law one too many times, partially due to his lunatic heart break after the violent deaths that befell his family and coven. He didn’t have much left other than painful longevity, and decided to start helping humanity any way he could, first, by saving homeless and abused children, and almost a whole century later, by becoming a cop. He had a passion for music brought on by the colorful 1980’s, and he was a troubadour on his rarified, spare time. For now, his duties were this woman’s recovery, his wife’s reincarnation, and patrolling near the Transylvanian-Carpathian Alps.

  This has become far too surreal. Regina kicked her feet back and forth to accelerate the momentum of a tire swing, hanging off the branch of a large pecan tree, over an emerald and celadon pool, serenely glistening with light. She wore a white eyelet dress that lifted every time the swing came forward, and she wore a corsage of white roses in her black hair. The simmering Texas heat still lingered in the nighttime breezes of summer. At least this is where she thought she was, by the side of a nearby creek behind her house in Tyler. Symphonies of crickets played loudly in the stage they made in the fresh-cut grass along the bank. The smoky aroma of grilled meat on a firepit accompanied the breeze and made her mouth water with hunger. She had used her feet as brakes when the swing came back to the bank, and gracefully stepped off, wearing her white leather ballet Mary-Janes. It was dark outside, and she enjoyed being by herself in her hideaway. She’d come here every night since she was a little girl, and her father had built the swing for her.

  It was another pleasant, carefree night of the shining moon, howling coyotes from afar, and stars shimmering brightly with no light pollution out in the country side. The leaves rustled near her as she tucked the tire swing back into the branches of the pecan tree, but she brushed it off as possibly a harmless coyote. The unseen creature howled, and it was spine-tingling, but not enough to make her feel unsafe. No, she was fine and kept on her path back to her house, until a thick lavender fog soon blinded her vision, and the was all she saw around her. The air was cold and humid, and made her shiver. She could still smell the meat her mom was cooking over the firepit, which meant she couldn’t have been that far away from her house. Even her mom’s Def Leppard playlist was still audible through the woods.

  “Well, this ain’t normal,” she said conclusively under her breath.

  The orange glow of a floating flame then appeared above her head and Regina realized that she was amidst a corridor made of ancient limestone. She wasn’t anywhere near the creek by her house anymore. Around her, the walls of the corridor were glistening black, with stars all around her except for the flame, but they felt solid when she touched them. There were silvery cobwebs at the corners, with lavender colored spiders that had liquid gold eyes staring back at her. They ran away from her when she tried to touch them out of curiosity. She continued, and the click-clack of her Mary Janes echoed in the chamber. There was a set of stairs ahead of her, illuminated with the white light of the full moon. She climbed up, still following the fire, and walked out into a barren field of dirt and green moss. A gunmetal sky decorated with hovering black clouds enveloped her in its cold embrace of stale, tenebrous air.

  The moonlight gave way to the grey ruins of an ancient civilization near a hill not far from her. A tree made of glowing evil eye pendants shone like a compelling beacon that psychically called to her to come. She walked to the tree, and when she was in front of it, the evil eyes glowed with their own inner radiance, and hummed lowly when she touched them. They were about the size of large dinner plates, and felt like they were made of the smoothest, polished glass. Aqua colored fireflies swirled around the tree, and some of them lingered in her jet-black locks. Whilst enjoying the silence and holding and evil eye in her arms, she heard a weeping male that broke the peace. She got the urge to look behind the tree, and then saw the source of the weeping, in the middle of what turned out to be a graveyard, that she thought were ancient ruins.

  Tombstones and cenotaphs, taller and more elaborately designed, and exquisitely carved into polished obelisks of obsidian and limestone made the large part of the cemetery. Stone gargoyles were perched above all the obelisks, as if they were obscure sentinels that came alive under the lunar influence. Epitaphs carved into tombstones glowed a strange red light that she never knew they could. In the middle of the cemetery, she approached the male, whose hair caught the moonlight in his luminous long golden strands. He was kneeling, facing the ground, and his long black cape fell all around him. Regina came to his side and attempted to shake him out of his tearful malady, but he only remained frozen in place, unresponsive to her presence. She vainly wiped away a crystal blue tear off his luminous alabaster cheekbone, and gently said his name, which then miraculously stopped his weeping. He rose up, staring blankly at the obscure uncertainty beyond the black horizon. Regina embraced him and ran her hands down his back and through his silky hair. She gently put her lips to the cool skin of his neck, that became humanly warm in response to her affection. He bent forward in her arms, succumbing to her kiss, longingly starving for her passionate touch he was absent of.

  The moment was an ephemeral bliss, that was lined with bleeding tragedy as her own hands exposed the fragile, human side of the vampire Enttu, trembling helplessly in her arms. He didn’t mutter a word, as he let the panic and grief run their course in his veins.

  “I am here, and I will not leave,” she assured him, and he clutched her even tighter, his vampiric strength almost making it impossible for her to breathe.

  She closed her eyes and leaned against his chest. Suddenly, she felt her neck and breasts become wet with a hot fluid, and when she looked, she saw that blood ran down her body, and she tasted it on her lips and tongue. She felt no pain even though she was smothered in pints and pints of the gushing fluid, but then she realized that the blood wasn’t hers. The vampire’s embrace loosened around her, as he convulsed in shock from his wounds. He was bleeding out uncontrollably, from a dagger impaled through his heart behind his back, and the skin of his throat was slit. His beautiful face was also marred by three deep slashes made from gashing claws, and he collapsed to death in her arms from his mortal injuries. Regina screamed in horror when she saw a giant black hand with long, formidable black claws holding the ripped-out heart of the vampire in its palm. A shadow of a winged, red-eyed beast loomed over her, and it was tall enough to wipe out the moonlight. It opened its mouth lined with rows and rows of thousands of teeth to devour her, and down its throat was a red and black swirling abyss. She fainted before the thing consumed her.

  Another damned dream turned nightmare.

  The expected shrill of a fearful girl roused Enttu from his meditation in his chamber he used for alchemy
and studies. He sighed in relief,

  “About damn time,”

  He hovered just barely above ground, from his study chamber, and back to his bedroom to meet her. When he appeared before her, she was very nonplussed and pale from the fading spell of slumber. Her mouth was dry, and her internal organs demanded water, but she breathed deep, intaking the wondrous and frighteningly tangible sight of the blonde undead entity materialized in front of her. He strolled in casually to make his presence known in a suave “ta-da!” kind of stroll. She pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, and cocked her head sideways, glancing at him and thinking to herself, “Are you fucking kidding me right now? Is this the part when you bite me?”

  Regina pulled her knees to her chest under the white cloth of an outdated but feminine gown she was wearing, in protest of how frigid the atmosphere was. She was glad to not be dead and didn’t quite feel like she was in danger anymore, but she scanned him suspiciously. All the walls of the room were a dark living crimson, curtains were black, and thick enough to block out the outer twilight. Her feet were warm from some thick wool socks she wore, and she was also, for the most part, except for her calves and arms exposed. She felt groggy, light headed, blinking to unstick her lashes, and in dull pain to really be afraid of Enttu/Stefan, whoever the fuck his identity even was. Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widened, and she drew in and exhaled a sigh through her nose, visibly vexed more than afraid.

  He was exactly as she had always seen him in all her visions. Over six feet tall, lean but strong and superb in posture, with a skinny oval face, but a chiseled, masculine jawline, and cheekbones that could cut diamond. His features were not overly harsh but leaned more towards the ethereal angelic softness of the frescos of Rome. His eyebrows were markedly arched and surprisingly dark in contrast to his thick, platinum hair that draped slightly past his shoulders. It was swept voluminously to one side, stylishly cascading down his neck. His lips were naturally lush and poutful and the color of strawberry tint. He had his mouth open sensually, as he cocked his head sideways to scrutinize her as well, through cobalt, glimmering almond eyes. He looked unhealthily pale, about the same shade as his hair, except for the very faint shadow of a blush on his cheeks. He resembled a slightly older River Phoenix, with longer, blonder hair, in his last days before he left the world in 1993.

  She flinched when he motioned his way to her. He stopped by her bedside, and reached out a pale white hand to her, to help her out of bed.

  “Please, let me help you. I have prepared dinner for us. You need to eat something, because you need to boost your blood productivity, so you can fully heal,” he told her, in a heavy Romanian accent that made him look and sound cute in a peculiar manner. He pronounced his “R’s” dryly.

  As much as Regina didn’t want to admit it to herself, he possessed a not common, but alluring beauty, unnatural, not like plastic, but not human. He was polarizing and easily stood out from the crowd. From the corner of her eye she thought she saw a dim blue glow around him. He was fixated on her with concern, and this made the blood in her cheeks spike in a warm flush, as she raised a singular eyebrow.

  “I’m not hungry, and besides, I need to get back to work and find out whatever happened to my friend. Why am I here with you and who exactly are you? Are you really a human cop, a vampire? You are a very enigmatic person, and I don’t have time for you,” she replied. He sighed audibly, rolling his eyes at her.

  “Listen, you almost had a rendezvous with death, it would behoove for you to consume something nutritional,” he said to her, as his vexation softened, and he took a seat next to her bedside. His manner of communication even sounded as if it was influence by a bygone era, dare she say, centuries past. She scooted away and stared mistrusting.

  “So, what is it? Stefan, or Enttu? Or are you some elaborate con artist-slash-serial killer? Why am I here?”

  Regina was an ice queen. The dhampir caressed her arm, before he spoke to her.

  “I had to pull you out of a moving car. Some very bad people almost abducted you. You almost bled to death. I got you out of there. And don’t worry a bit about work. I have covered arrangements,” he assured her in his soothing voice that was like a balm to slather over her anxiety.

  “But how?” she asked, still skeptical.

  “Because, I have a lot of pull. I’m a vampire, technically, a ‘dhampir.’ People will listen to me, especially when they need me more than I need them,” he stated.

  “What’s for dinner? Humble pie?” Regina commented very sarcastically. That remark went over Enttu’s head like a jet plane headed to Africa, in part because of his language barrier.

  “Come with me,” he motioned to her.

  His arm slipped around her waist, and he held her next to him, as he helped her walk to the bathroom to relieve herself. After she was done, he motioned her to hook her hand in the crook of his arm, and he led her down a tall flight of velvet-draped stairs, and then finally, they reached a dining hall. There were three silver-domed platters, a bottle of red wine, and dinner plates with silverware laid out. At the elongated, cherry-wood dining table, he pulled out a black velvet chair for her, and she sat in it. He then sat next to her and uncovered the delicious-smelling food underneath the domes. There was lamb shank, asparagus spears, and cooked beets. He served her, and stared at her longingly with slight impatience, waiting for her to take her first bite.

  “You’re not going to eat?” she asked him, staring into his sapphire eyes.

  He shook his head in a “no”. “After you,” he replied.

  “I have to be very careful with human food. Too much can poison me and take me out for about a week. My circulatory and digestive systems are fused, and unlike you humans, I can’t just eat and expel it. A little bit dissolves into metaphysical matter, which can give me energy. Too much will dissolve into poison, due to the way it reacts with the virus that causes my vampirism. I was born this way. Hence, why I have a biological need and preference for blood,” he explained.

  “So then, did you cook this?” Regina asked him, superstitious of his stories.

  “Yes. My wife was a human, and I had to do so when she was pregnant and on bed rest.”

  “You had a wife?!”

  Enttu was growing exasperated of Regina’s blatant stubbornness, so he then surprised her, by taking her fork, and shoving a juicy piece of sliced rare steak into his mouth. He chewed the succulent meat and sucked out most of the brine before he forcefully swallowed a flavorless chunk. It would make him slightly sick with fatigue, but hopefully she’d eat now instead of looking at him crazy.

  “I’m not trying to poison you. Believe me, if I wanted to hurt you, I could’ve easily done so already,” he said vexed, but persuading.

  Regina sighed, but then complied painfully. She took a piece of steak, and this awakened her appetite. She ended up scarfing the entire dinner in less than five minutes, and the dhampir was genuinely pleased that she consumed some food to expedite her recovery, and, that she found his cooking appetizing. Who knew that a vampire could pull of some gourmet meals? He pushed a white and gold demitasse full of sweet-smelling jasmine tea toward her, so she could wash down her delicious meal he prepared for her.

  “What happened to me?” she proceeded with another question, now sipping on the sugarless, hot jasmine tea with floating pieces of the perfumed flower swirling about.

  “You were almost abducted,”

  The blonde dhampir had an expression of subtle sullenness and gentle melancholy. He was staring at her with the eyes that looked at her as if she knew exactly what she was thinking.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, I already would have earlier if I wanted to,” he added threateningly, which agitated her. He continued.

  “The sentinels of the Dragul, the people who took you from that nightclub, are a group of people who don’t have the best intentions. Unfortunately, when I sense
d your presence here, so did they, and mine as well,”

  “Excuse me? What do you mean by you sensed my presence?” she asked, but he remained silent.

  He was afraid that she did remember the few short-lived nights he did stalk her, even though he never meant to cause harm. Regina was angry now at how annoyingly elusive he was acting. All the hair on her head raised straight up, as static electricity surged up her spine. He looked genuinely frightened and stepped back.

  “Well, this one’s confirmed,” he stated out loud.

  “What’s confirmed, Enttu?” she seethed through gritted teeth.

 

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