by Troy A Hill
I knew I had fought with my demon and battled the Witch Hunters. I remembered the agony of Onion Breath’s last silver knife in my chest. I thought I would face the true death. Alive… or undead… no more. But, if I was dead, why did I dream?
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, a lone thought appeared and tumbled about. Silly girl, if you’ve died the true death, you won’t be able to think of anything.
But how do I know that? I replied to myself as the surrounding light intensified until all I could see was white.
…
The brilliance of the light diminished. I still had that floating-on-clouds, dreaming sensation. Drifting... floating... until I heard a voice. My master’s dark, swarthy face with olive green eyes came into view. I loved his face, his hands, even the scratchy feel of his short beard on my flesh when we made love.
I loved him. But, tonight was different.
Tonight was my time. I would cross over.
But, I had already crossed.
Yet, this dream was just as real as the first time I had lived the occasion. I knew I was dreaming… dreaming of the time six hundred years before, in my master’s Roman villa. But it seemed so real right then.
I felt Master’s whiskers against my cheek again as he kissed me. Roman men didn’t have beards. But, because he was undead, his hair and his beard always grew back to the same length while he slept. He would shave if he had to meet with a Roman citizen. The next evening, when he awoke, he’d have half-an-inch of hair on his cheeks again.
"Are you ready?" My Master asked one final time, again. At first, it sounded like two voices at once. The first time there was only his voice. This time it seemed like a female voice echoed his own. Who was she? Why was she in my dream?
I could feel his naked flesh pressed against mine.
But centuries had passed since he died the true death. How I still longed for his touch again. This dream must be heaven, to feel him again. His body warm already. He would warm slowly as he fed on my blood. But, tonight he came warm to our bed.
He had fed from another after he rose for the night. Several hours later, he and I lay together in his bed. He'd need the extra blood later when he fed me. I knew the process. He had explained it many times during the past two months after he had asked if I was ready to become one of his undead offspring.
He lived a plain life. His bedding comprised nothing more than a few blankets and some pillows on the earthen floor of the small cluster of buildings he and his followers occupied on the city's edge. Outside, I could hear the churn and squeal of an ox cart as it left through the gates a short distance away. Darkness had already fallen, but commerce continued. The city seldom slept. That night, my sleep patterns would change forever.
“There is no going back after this,” he said. He gazed into my eyes. I heard only one voice this time. Perhaps I had imagined the female echo?
“Are you sure?” He hadn’t touched my mind, yet. This was my decision alone to make. He offered me limited immortality, but, first, I had to die.
He had asked me for the last two months. Every evening when we gathered for our fellowship.
"Yes," was my reply as I closed my eyes, and kissed him. His whiskers scratched along my face as I hugged him close. He pushed us apart so he could stare into my eyes.
"Once we begin, you'll never be the same, and we cannot stop, or you die the true death, forever. I ask again for the final time. You and you alone must decide. There is no shame if you decline my offer." He stared deep into my eyes.
The female echo returned. Two voices asked, “Do you want to live again?”
“I’m ready,” I whispered. “Do you love me?”
“Yes. Every day more and more.” Two voices; the mysterious woman’s voice was there for that answer too.
But there hadn't been a woman there when I crossed over; only my master was with me that night. Why did I hear two voices?
"I have always loved you," Master said. "But, you'll learn to love others too. You must." I heard only his voice. He placed his hands on my cheeks and cupped my face. He looked deep into my eyes; I felt as though he looked into my soul. "This can be a gift or a curse. This gift cannot be given lightly. Nor should you accept it if you are weak of character or spirit."
My eyes moved, downcast at the thought I wasn’t worthy of what he wanted to share, to give to me. His fingers pressed under my chin. He raised my face.
“I have watched you for the last three years,” he said.
That surprised me. I had known him only the last two years. I moved into the enclave in his villa a year before.
"Yes, long before you found me, I knew you were special. I made sure you had the right connections, the right people to steer you to us." He said and stroked my hair. "You have been my muse this past year, and I want to reward you if you will accept it." Again, his eyes burned into my soul. His warmth spilt into my emotions as he wrapped his arms around me. He cradled me in his embrace as we reclined into the pillows of his makeshift bed.
“Yes, love. I want your gift. I accept it.” My voice sounded timid, yet resolute in the night air.
We spoke no more words. His face descended toward my neck. I knew his fangs, the two canine teeth, had elongated. His mind embraced mine and he nicked the skin on my neck. My warmth, my blood seeped out. He licked at it, then nipped me again. I felt the blood flow, this time his mouth locked onto me. He consumed my warmth as his mind soothed me.
I drifted again. Both physically, in the bright light, and in my dreams. My lover, my master held me tight as my life force leaked out of me. I became chilled, cold. Nothing left. To drift away, into the light. But I knew if I let go of him, of his mind, I’d never return. He was my lifeline back to the world. But this was only the first half of the ritual to make me like him. I still had to drink. I was so close… Death was right there, just beyond the edge… I wasn’t sure if I would have the energy to take back the blood he had taken from me.
Finally, he spoke. Or, perhaps, just his thoughts came into my mind. I wasn’t aware enough to be sure if my ears still heard. The mysterious female voice was there, too.
"Drink, and live again, my love." He said it, but so did that female voice. Why was she invading my dream?
His hand moved my still, almost lifeless cold body against his. He was aflame with heat, with my blood.
His hand come up, to his throat, and with a quick jab of his sharp fingernails, he opened his vein for me. "Drink my love," he said again. He pressed my mouth against his wound. I tasted blood, his blood. No, my blood, filtered through his body, trickling into my mouth. I sucked it, the way a newborn babe suckles at her mother. My blood, mixed with the blood of the other he had fed from that night, flowed back into me. I began to sip his blood. The first swallow tasted divine. I sipped again, then with more vigour. Warmth flooded into my body. Not just warmth, fire. I was roasting. I pulled my mouth back from him. His mind enveloped mine. "Not long now, love," he said.
“There are two paths before you. The two paths before every person, love or chaos, good or evil. Your test begins now. You are strong, and I know you will choose your path wisely.” Two voices again. Why did the mystery woman’s voice have to be in my dream?
He held my head away from him. My eyes opened and locked onto his. I could sense a change in us. Not just me, it was both my blood and the blood of one of his other followers that moved through both of us.
"Let us continue, love. Your journey begins, but your biggest test faces you first. When you awake and we feed you again, you must remember your love and find your strength. Do not give into the chaos. Do not give into the evil is within all of us."
He moved us so we could both feed, both suckle on each other's neck. "Fight the urges are within you. They gain strength now and will grow stronger with each feeding. Remember our love and be stronger than they are."
“I love you,” I said aloud one last time, as his mouth touched my neck.
“And I, you,” he breathed. “
Remember my love as the evil claws at your soul. I love you. Remember, always, love wins if you refuse to let it go.”
His mouth caressed my neck once, then locked onto the wound, and opened it fresh. He began to drain me, again. This time, my head turned toward him. I drank from the wound on his neck. Our blood flowed through us. His energy became my energy. My life fuelled us both, and my life mixed with his un-life. I died in that embrace, but I lived at the same time.
I faded away. Not breathing, dead but alive. I was full of energy and love. I knew he was with me, I released my hold on him, and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. The white light enveloped me again.
16
More Dreams
Arms held me down. I struggled to move.
Thirst! Hunger! The demon raged inside me.
"Fight it," a soft, feminine voice said. Female? There had been no women present when I awoke that first night. My first night as undead. Why did I hear a woman's voice? My mind tried to sort out the sounds, the white light blinded my eyes, I struggled to rise, and my Master's deep voice soothed me.
"Fight for your soul. Fight for love…" That woman's voice was still there. But, this dream. Who was she? Only Master should be in this dream now.
I opened my dream eyes and saw his rugged face; his dark skin reflected the starlight through the windows. Everything about me ached, but I realised how finely attuned my senses had become. But that wasn't all. Inside me, something else stirred. Thirst! Hunger! Blood NOW!
Two of my new brothers held me down. My master sat on my legs. The demon inside me thrust and kicked my legs. They were incredibly strong, but my own, new strength challenged them as I struggled to break free.
The entire city full of people intruded on my new senses. I could hear their hearts pumping, their blood flowing. The thirst, the hunger to feed was upon me. My new demon screamed. Her voice was about to become my voice. I drew in a deep breath ready to scream.
"There are two paths before you," my Master said, his voice quiet. "Stay with us, love. Stay and feed here. Think of love, think of us." His green eyes bore into me. My demon had control. She thirsted, insane with the hunger.
She was me, and I was her. But I could fight. She would not own me. She would not control my body. In my mind, I built a cage. A sturdy, iron cage. Thick and stout bars crisscrossed to make walls, a ceiling and a floor.
The cell took shape around the wild beast in my mind. But I couldn't quite make the fourth wall. There was a gap. There.
My demon shook the bars all around her cage. I made a thick iron door for that gap in the bars and slammed it shut. It trapped her.
The demon peered at me from inside her cell. Her face pressed against the bars. Fangs bared, eyes glowing red. Crazed eyes. An insane demon. With my face. She was me, and I, her.
I released my breath. I hadn't screamed. My master's other two children, both olive skinned, ebony haired, muscular Children of the Night held me pinned between them. My demon thrashed at the bars of her cage. Her arms snaked out through gaps in the cage, and she grabbed my body again.
She jerked my arms. My brothers and my master still held me down.
“Fight it, dearest,” Master and that female voice said. “Let love win.”
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, the Maria part of me realised I had the strength of ten men, at least. Mere mortals should have been tossed across the room by how my demon attempted to break free. But they had the same strength. Three to one was no match.
I thought of my master's face, and how I loved him. That helped me focus. I added more bars to the cage where my demon stalked. I had her contained. For a few moments at least. SWith a sigh, I announced my flimsy control.
We were ensconced in the pile of cushions in my master’s sleeping room. His bed, his face, his smell drew me a little closer to the surface of my mind.
My master was ready. Off to the side, he had his cup set. I glanced and noticed it was already full of the red liquid I now craved. The monster within me screamed and fought my thin control. I closed my eyes from the sight. I slapped another bar on the mental cage. I shoved the demon back down.
I opened my eyes again and let them draw in the image of my master’s face. His green eyes, his dark brown beard and hair, the thin wrinkles that lined his face around the corners of his eyes. Love wins. Or, at least I hoped it would tonight.
He raised his cup under my chin, brought it to my lips. He tipped it toward me. “I love you. We love you. Drink.”
The red nectar I craved, that the monster inside me demanded, slid down my throat. I kept my eyes locked on his face while he tilted the cup farther and farther toward me. I worked hard not to gulp, but to drink with a gentle purpose. I wanted to savour the taste and savour the love I felt from my new family.
Too soon the cup was empty. Master had a second cup, already filled, and lifted it. I drank again. I felt the grip of the demonic hunger slide away. Still there, but sated briefly. I could finally relax. My new brothers kept their hold but relaxed the intensity of it.
“How long?” I asked as I ran my tongue around my lips. I licked every bit of the delicious nectar from my face.
My master set his cup aside.
"Have you been asleep?" he said. "This is the third night since we fed on each other, and you crossed over." He cupped my cheeks again. That was his gesture, how he connected with those he wanted to love. "You've been reborn. You fed and died one night. Two nights later, you have awakened. Tonight is the night of your birth into our world." He bowed; his eyes twinkled with jest. "Your brothers and I welcome you."
I laughed at his jovial attitude and leaned back.
“Actually, I wondered how long I’d have to fight that demon?”
“Demon?” he asked, Concern was present, yet subtle on his face. But with my new, heightened senses, I noticed the very subtle shift in his expression.
“The hunger, the thirst?” I said. “My mind imagines her as a demonic form of my own body.”
"Ah, that is the issue?" He motioned for one of my brothers to take his cup. "I believe she is well enough for another cup." My new brother untangled himself from around me. I realised we were all unclothed. That wasn't unusual. In my master's rooms, in the private area of his villa, we were often nude as was he. This was where he fed from normal humans like me… well, like I was a few days before.
Our master handed his plain wooden cup to my new brother as he arose. "Perhaps one of our extended family would donate a cup to feed your new sister, Thomas?" Master had slid around to my side, where my brother had sat to hold me down. Thomas took the cup and bent down to lay a gentle kiss on my forehead. "It is my honour. Welcome sister." He padded to the door and eased out into the larger room beyond.
I could hear the hinges even though they were always well oiled. They grated and rubbed. My other new brother, Jonas, chuckled off to my side. "You'll get used to it, with time." He caressed my side with the hand he had slid behind my back. "Why do you think we keep all the mechanicals well-tended? This is one of the few places in the city where it's quiet."
“You have questions.” My master had slid in next to me, and wrapped his arm around my back, just above Jonas’.
“How long will I have to fight this hunger?”
He chuckled again.
“Every night you live.”
I groaned and closed my eyes. He sensed the frustration. Both of them did. Both of them chuckled at my groan.
“It subsides with time,” he said. “Your first week is the worst and the most dangerous. We won’t let any of our mortal friends with you until you drink a cup each night.” I kept my eyes closed and enjoyed the sensation of the blood as it spread through my body. That demonic presence that had grabbed my soul when I first awoke was better. No longer did she pound on the mental door to her cell in my mind. Growl and pace, she did. But she wasn't trying to escape. Yet.
"We'll be with you every moment this week. The first cup you took was my blood. It will give you the
strength you need to calm your hunger. But, you must control your hunger and learn to feed from another." He and Jonas both took my hands; each held the one closest to them. "This is a great gift and comes with great responsibility. When we bring a new child to the night, as we have done with you, the act can have grave consequences. Or, it can be done with love and support. We are here to help you."
The door latch slammed open, and the hinges creaked again. I jumped. Thomas had returned. The way he glided glide into the room, instead of tramping in like an army of soldiers surprised me.
“Thomas does walk light,” my Master said. “You’ll learn to concentrate enough to hear him, and ignore the louder sounds.”
With a cup held reverently before him, Thomas flowed into a cross-legged pose. “Esther was pleased to offer love to our newest sibling. She says to let her know when Maria would like to share her passion, tonight.”
“In a few moments,” Master said.
I knew the blood they were about to give me was only a part of what I now needed. I needed to learn, with the help of Master, how to link my mind with someone, and Esther had volunteered. We would connect our minds. Her pleasure would leak into my mind. My emotions would stimulate her arousal and increase her passion. That emotional loop, each of us feeding the intensity of the other…
I had only ever been on the donor side of that. Tonight I would learn to lead the exchange. Master would guide me, and Esther would share her body and her passion with me.
But first, Master preferred his rituals. And I needed more blood to sate my demon before they allowed me near Esther.
"Please start the honours." Master motioned toward the cup.
Thomas's canine teeth elongated and shifted to sharp points. He raised his other wrist to his mouth and pierced the vein with his fang. Blood welled from his cut. He had fed recently, and I could smell the life energy in the red liquid, both from his wrist and in the cup he held.