by Kane
Suddenly, he was silent. His body became rigid in my grasp. His eyes opened wide, lips fell slightly ajar; I could feel his pulse racing. He was completely within my trance. My hypnotic stare terrified him to the point of near paralysis, yet he was too captivated to look away. He wore an expression of utter terror.
The wait had come to an end. I sank my teeth into his neck the way I imagined a Siberian tiger would bite into the neck of the antelope, crushing the throat completely to suffocate its meal. Crushing, yes. Suffocating, perhaps. I didn’t care. I only cared about the blood that flowed rapidly into my mouth. How delightful it was. His expressions conveyed his pain, for his throat was no longer capable of producing sound, only a choking hack.
Is it murder when you kill a murderer? I asked myself. Nonetheless, I continued my torment. I tore his right arm from the socket, and with minimal effort, I removed it from his torso completely. I continued holding him in the air with one arm and bit into the severed arm’s artery. The blood was so warm. I could think of nothing else for the moment. I sucked. He struggled. I sucked.
Once I had drained the arm, leaving nothing but withered muscle and bone, I discarded it inside the open sarcophagus, which I stood atop of. I turned my attention back to my dear Ammon, who danced between the world of the conscious and unconscious. “Scream for me,” I whispered. “Scream for Cena!”
I licked the blood that had dripped onto his shirt and the rivulets under the fabric. Once there was nothing more to savor, I drank from the wound where I had ripped the arm off. His eyes rolled up. I mustn’t let him die too soon.
I turned Ammon upside down. I wanted him to see the corpse that lay beneath us, the mouth of the skull freckled with drops of Ammon’s blood. How fitting. I lifted him slightly and sank my fangs into the lower part of one of his thighs. My teeth ripped through his fleshy thigh, and I pulled at the bone until I tore off the leg. Ammon opened his mouth wide, and I imagined that, if he could, he might ask our dead host, “Is being dead as painful as death?”
In the time of my adolescence, healers would use the mandragora plant for amputations. The mandragora would cause the wounded to drift into a comatose state, thus feeling little pain, if any at all. Not for Ammon. How excruciating it must have been to have an arm and leg ripped off, leaving only a blood-dripping torso on one side and paralysis on the other. I drained this detached limb in the same manner as the previous one. He began to lose consciousness.
“Oh no, Ammon! You must remain coherent for the finale!” I said to him and turned him back so that he was facing me. His eyes rolled back into place; the look of terror was replaced by despair and hopelessness. “The dead have no answers for you, Ammon. However, I do.”
Even though Ammon had one arm in the sarcophagus and a leg stuck in another dark corner, his heart was still beating, so I wasn’t done. Though I knew he wanted desperately to die, I plunged my hand into his torso, tearing through the skin and cracking open his ribcage in my quest to secure his feverishly beating heart. The beat slowed, and I drank from his neck before his heart stopped beating entirely. I completely drained the blood from his body. Good and bad, I had to consume it all. His body began to wither. I withdrew from suckling and opened my mouth as wide as I could. Then I completely severed Ammon’s head with a flesh-tearing bite! It hit the edge of the coffin with a thud, finally settling on the ground. Right away, hundreds of insects swarmed over it.
Though Ammon’s body was now limp, the heart still pulsed. I saved this delicacy for last. I licked the blood streaming down my arm before I bit into the heart. I couldn’t let any of Ammon’s blood escape my hunger. There could be nothing left of his treachery—nothing! I reveled in the living dessert.
Ammon’s eyes were frozen open, staring up at me as something like a millipede bore into his ear. Ammon was gone, but I wasn’t quite done. I unceremoniously tossed the rest of his body into the coffin. Then, with one final blow, I lifted my foot and crushed the partially flesh-stripped, severed head. Ammon’s right eye popped out and rolled along the ground. I picked it up and looked at it. I brought it close to my face. Even in death, Ammon could see me. I tossed it over my shoulder and turned toward the entrance. Upon my exit, I could hear the scorpions’ thanks for the last bit of the feast I provided. It was truly music to my ears.
CHAPTER 11
left Anfushi invigorated by my latest encounter. I felt alive. For the first time in months, I felt purpose! I was, once again, Aleron—the Aleron my queen gave birth to, immortal Aleron, powerful Aleron. Though the thoughts of Mynea never left my mind, my desire to hunt was revitalized. This night my longing for her company was finally eradicated by my inherent bloodlust. Even though vampires are not restricted by time in the way mortals are, time still heals wounds of the heart.
Almost intoxicated, I traveled more slowly to safety before the impeding sunrise. About a hundred miles from the castle, I strode the backstreets of Old Alexandria. In those wee hours, they were empty. Suddenly, an unease came over me, deflating my high. I sensed an unnatural presence. I looked around. Though I could see no one, I could hear the faint steadiness of a heartbeat. It was bizarre, long, and slow—too slow for a mortal. Steady. I became on high alert.
“Show yourself! I know you’re there!” I yelled in the deserted alley that smelled of rotten garbage and urine.
Watching me, I thought. Watching me without fear! The heartbeat didn’t quicken. It was the slow drum of a cautious yet curious being. The rhythm was calming to me. I continued to look around, and with my vampire speed I covered the entire area, every crevice where someone or something could hide. Then I took to the rooftops.
“I know you’re here,” I repeated in a voice softer and more inviting than before. “Reveal yourself to me, and I will spare you death.”
To my surprise, I heard a quiet giggle. And then all at once the heartbeat was gone. The only thing left was an unfamiliar scent. I took it into my lungs and into my memory, never to forget it. Even unto this night, I never have.
I began moving faster than I normally would. I wasn’t nervous, only cautious. The presence was unknown and obviously gifted, for my search ended unfruitfully. Naturally I was curious and guarded. Moreover, the approaching sunrise caused me to propel myself harder; thus I covered the hundred miles in mere minutes.
Once in the castle, I climbed to the third level and strode into the long corridor that led to Eliza’s quarters. I knew she was asleep, but I simply wanted to see her. I quietly opened her door, glancing upon her much like a loving father would his sleeping daughter. She was safe, unharmed. I closed it softly and proceeded down the stairs to the lower level. Being surrounded by the familiar sounds and smells of the castle settled my uneasiness temporarily.
I entered my dungeon and lay on the cold stone floor. My hands found and gripped the only window my queen had left to peer through, a window that possessed foggy panes that didn’t allow me to see what lay beyond. I tried to read the journal, but again, it was indecipherable. I stared up at the ceiling and thought about the latter part of the evening.
How long had it watched me? The laugh suggested it wasn’t afraid and knew I was something more than ordinary at the very least. Soon I began to feel the effects of dawn as my eyes began to close. I couldn’t deny the lingering thought in my mind. Had Mynea returned to me? Darkness fell over me.
CHAPTER 12
concentrated on my prowess and on sharpening my skills and became more deft with each kill. My speed increased to near teleportation. I took flight with less effort and more effectiveness. I punished my body as I explored my limits in an effort to distract me from the pain of missing Mynea.
Dutifully I provided the necessary sustenance to sustain Eliza’s frozen countenance whenever it began to thaw. However, after several moons and feverish hunting and sharing, a strange feeling began to creep into my soul.
Desire called upon me. Not the desire one would assume, but a longing to be free of this castle. I felt captive by a force stronger t
han anything I’d ever encountered. I felt as though a weight had been placed on my chest, relentlessly pressing on my heart, suffocating me. I needed to be free from pain, free from love, free from sadness, free from Mynea—free from this place.
I scanned the castle and found Eliza settled at the dining table in our grand and luxurious kitchen. She was radiantly beautiful, appearing unspoiled by time. Silently I observed her. Flawless skin covered her naturally high cheekbones. My eyes digested every inch of the right side of her elegant silhouette, finally resting slightly above her delectable collarbone, on her carotid artery, which prominently thumped to the soothing rhythm of her beating heart.
She was drinking lilac tea when I entered. I must have startled her, for she nearly toppled over when she realized I was standing right beside her.
“Good evening, my dear.” My hands stroked the top of her head, through her hair, and down the back of her neck. With both hands around her throat I gently, yet forcefully, lifted her to a standing position. I nudged the chair to the side as I spun her around so that I was now behind her, our bodies pressed against one another. A small gasp escaped her lips as she leaned slightly to the side, inviting me to draw upon her sweet nectar. I kissed her neck with only a slight urge to take her life.
“Aleron,” she was again mesmerized by my presence and soothing touch. “I dreamed of you again last night, as I have every night for many months.” She turned to face me. “You’ll never leave me, will you?” Her question was sincere yet full of sorrow. Her deep rich chestnut eyes searched my face for a sign. Big and round, they searched, pleaded. I saw my own face in their reflection; however, a sign she did not receive.
“Don’t trouble your mind with such thoughts. You’ve been at my side for decades. You’re more essential to my existence than any number of victims I choose to dine on.”
She closed her eyes and smiled while pushing her face against my hand, as a cat searching for its master’s affection might. I caressed her warm skin with my cooling touch. I could always feel her skin tighten in the areas where my cold hands touched her balmy flesh.
“There’s something I must do, however. It will involve you.”
“What would you have me do, my lord?”
“Know that I do not wish to remain here another day. It’s agony to dwell in what reminds me of her. I’m leaving and will send for you in due time.
“Where will you go, my lord? When will you send for me?”
“I shall go into the island of Philae, just along the Nile in upper Egypt. When I’ve settled, I’ll send a vessel and messenger along the Nile. She’ll come to you, and you shall trust her. Leave everything except the gold and jewels when I send for you. I’ll have all you’ll require in our new home. As for this place, when you leave I’ll no longer concern myself with it. Don’t worry, for I’ll send for you before Father Time calls your name once more.”
“Of course, my lord.”
I punctured my wrist and exposed the dark gift within. Gently I raised my arm to Eliza’s waiting mouth. She began to suck. I couldn’t help the feeling of ecstasy that immediately followed sharing my blood with her. I was indeed aroused by her eagerness and tenderness as she drained me of what immortal life I would allow her. Something in me wanted her to continue, though I didn’t know at the time what would happen to her if I allowed her to do so, or what would happen to me. Then she stopped.
She was indeed strong willed, more so than I. I would have had her drain me completely dry. In that moment I found a feeling that nearly rivaled my love for Mynea, my desire to feed, and my desire to live. It was a new craving to share the life force that had come and gone with every life I stole. The blood gift. What could this new feeling mean?
I opened my eyes and Eliza was staring at me. She looked more radiant than she had ever looked before! More beautiful. Though my heart didn’t seek another, if it had done so, that other would be she. In the blink of an eye, my erotic daze was replaced by spine-tingling focus. I straightened my posture and took a deep breath.
“I’ll be swift, my dear.” I left to return to my immortal cradle. I knew that if I’d stayed in Eliza’s presence, woe would have befallen my heart. Though she was exquisitely enchanting, she still reminded me of the one my heart longed for. Through her devotion, she commanded loyalty and trust from me. I couldn’t leave her to die, for a swift death awaited her if I chose to stay away too long. Her strength would leave her. She would lose the ability to walk and speak. Her heart would begin to crawl. Her skin would lose all elasticity, and her bones would begin to rapidly deteriorate before, ultimately, turning into dust. The immortal blood had made her vulnerable to our will, for, she, too, knew of her mortality. She was a slave to life. Aren’t we all?
I made up my mind at that moment that I would keep my word and return for Eliza. I didn’t lie to her about returning when I was talking to her; however, I would have said anything to leave. She knew it. I could sense her uneasiness when I began to depart, and her thoughts cried out to me as I left the castle: Please, my lord, Aleron. Don’t abandon me. Please don’t leave me to rot.
I went down into the lowest room of the castle, the dungeon, which provided me with the salvation I needed so desperately, and took with me the last relic forgotten or bequeathed by my queen, the journal. And then I was off.
After crossing the water, I turned and looked back at the castle, which was now illuminated by the glow of the moon. I was captivated by its splendor and sheer size. For decades it had been my home. I had grown quite fond of its menacing exterior and luxurious interior. I remembered my first night in the dungeon. Vivid memories and random exotic rendezvous with Mynea began to fill my head. I took a moment and remembered her touch, her sweet and soothing voice. Her scent. She completely embodied everything I’d come to love and desire. The feeling of losing her would never weaken. I didn’t know at that time which scared me most, her leaving or not knowing where she had gone.
A vampire’s lust for blood is insatiable, so if a woeful heart can overshadow the appetite for life, one could conclude the intensity of my love and despair. It was enough to tear apart the very fabric of my immortal existence. I temporarily lost my desire to live. Without Mynea, nights had grown longer, and the urge to bathe myself in sunlight increased. Life eternal without my love would be unbearable. Night after night I had been torn between searching for her and waiting for her to return. Somehow I had convinced myself that one evening I would awake, and she would be lying naked next to me. This single thought kept me from leaving the castle for months.
I turned away from the castle and looked at the city below. The thousands of flickering lights served as a fitting ambiance for my liberation from that woeful feeling. Of course, my preferred method of travel was flying. That night, however, I decided to simply walk. I closed my eyes and allowed my animalistic senses to guide me to my eventual destination, the ancient island of Philae. And by closing my eyes, I would dispel the darkness created by the shadow of the enormous castle, which mocked the moon. As the distance lengthened between me and the castle, its shadow faded, a shadow that kept my heart in complete darkness.
As I made my way closer to the city of Alexandria, the various sounds of the insects, rats, and other small creatures scurrying about were replaced with the chatter of people and sounds of string instruments. The rough and littered cobblestone streets forced mortals to step carefully. I, however, was able to move through the streets quite easily, and as I did, the millions of imperfections from stone to stone beneath my feet created a silent yet rhythmic tale of their own.
It was easy to walk among humans, for I wasn’t my deathly pale self, given the blood of my last victims coursing through my body. I must remember to thank all of them when I see them again.
I walked slowly around the districts until I came upon one that smelled familiar. I opened my eyes and realized I was standing in the district of al-Montaza, the land that was once my home.
Though I had often avoided al-Montaza f
or obvious reasons, I felt a sense of relief, a sense of belonging—or perhaps a sense of longing, yearning to be with those who loved me and whom I’d loved. I coveted companionship. Not just any companionship. I hungered for amity with those who knew me. And that desire had led me back to the living. A craving was born in me to forget the nightmare under the guise of a dream. To forget the demon under the guise of an angel. To escape my immortal self and return to the bosom of Alexandria. To forget her. To forget Mynea.
I knew and remembered very well the rule Mynea spoke of regarding reaching out to my mortal family. I simply didn’t care. I burned to see my mother and father, whom I hadn’t seen in decades. I wanted to see Shani, my sister, whom I’d missed tremendously.
It was late when I arrived at my father’s home. Grass had grown over my mother’s once well-kept garden. The lawn was overgrown, as were the shrubs and bushes surrounding the house. Ivy grew untamed over the outside walls of the house. Several ant mounds had erupted around the yard. As for the house itself, it was dark, with the exception of soft candlelight coming from my father’s study. I used my mind to scan the thoughts of all who were present. Indeed, my mortal parents still occupied this home. I listened while my father read to himself. The book was of no significance. What was important was what happened next.
He stopped suddenly, stood, and looked out the window. Of course, I didn’t allow him to see me, but he knew someone was watching. My father was always protective of my mother and sister. He hardly slept when I was a child, always on edge and ready for anything that posed a threat to his family. Once his query was satisfied, he would return to doing whatever he was engaged in. This time, he remained at the window unusually long.
I could hear the steady breathing of my mother in the next room. She was fast asleep. I listened for a second steady breath but found none. I couldn’t sense my sister. Shani wasn’t in my father’s home this night.