Thirst

by Tapley, Travis

  He had been conceived and grown up a few years after that time, after that day. He had seen war after war, seen the mortals kill themselves in the name of religion. Seen men kill themselves for what amounted to no apparent reason at all. Watched them fight and even the dark ones could not understand why. It made no matter to him for the most part, because the blood they spilled among themselves kept his kind and the dark ones alive. Such irony that the mortals should dispose of themselves and think nothing of it, but when a vampire had let itself slip up and be known in a community, the people would band together to destroy it. All the while praising God, never getting that they killed sometimes just to kill, wars being insane and for what? At least the vampire killed for his survival. Man it seemed killed for his pleasure. Yet again another of his thoughts that he could turn around and say, if really truthful, didn’t the vampire get pleasure in killing too? He smiled thinking to himself, throughout time wasn’t his kind the biggest serial killers of them all? Why did his thoughts seem to make no sense some times? Maybe it was century after century of seeing all the chaos between men and the battles he had faced within himself, the world and the dark ones.

  Michael and Lilith were in the city, this much he was sure. They could track and hunt him forever if they wished and he would never be found as long as he used the gift and kept them blocked out of his mind. All vampires possessed this ability to some extent, the dark ones ability was weak, the younger ones did not yet have the power to fully block out someone and an older vampire of either race could easily uncover their location. The radiant ones power to hide, to block out was strong from birth. There were two differences that made his race superior, to always come out on the winning end of fights, wars, battles and struggles, and they were the ability to block out their whereabouts, and the ability to live in the sun. The times they had been discovered was when they had ventured out at night and accidentally ran into those of the night. The power to block was so strong in them, that it had caused quite a few deaths of the dark tribe, simply because the dark one was wanting to feed, and tried to take the life of a radiant vampire. The radiant ones while not prone to unnecessary killing other than to survive, never took great joy in eliminating the dark ones, but when it is kill or be killed, all creatures do what must be done to survive.

  His children looked so peaceful on the bed sleeping. He was as thankful as his darkness would allow that they did not know what he was and what their Mother was soon to become. There was coming a day, and he knew this all too well, that they would be told the story, the history of what they had been born of, and would have to face the decision to walk with him and their Mother or remain mere mortals and fade from this world as he wished sometimes he could. He was thirty five when his Mother had given him the gift, the life of forever. His in-laws had remarked on numerous occasion that he had not aged a bit in the ten years he and Summer had been married. They had told them then, he was thirty five, and he had been ten years older than her in mortal years. And they had responded that even though she was grown, he was too old for her. If only they knew he had the eternal fountain of youth pumping in his soul. She was to be thirty five in a couple of months and he would freeze her time for all eternity then. He felt no need to endow this secret on the children until they were at least old enough to comprehend what they would be told. Summer had done her best to sneak little stories of vampires and the battle of good and evil between them that the world had never known, and to open their young minds to things most humans could not understand. He was blessed with children of smart intelligence and was amazed at some of the questions they asked.

  She looked at herself in the mirror, rubbed her face with her hands and pushed back her long blond hair with them. He was standing on the balcony and it still amazed her that he was who he was and yet she never dreamed his kind could exist. She could not ask for a better man than Seneca. He was kind and gentle, unlike what she had grown to read about and watch on the silver screen. But even then, they had appealed to her. She had always dreamed of what it would be like to be immortal. Even from a young age she had had a fear of death. Did not like the thought of it at all, and wondered how people could just accept it.. The thought of being placed in a metal box and planted in a six feet deep hole, with dirt tossed on top of you left too much to the imagination for her to like. She had told Seneca, that if she should ever die, she wanted to be cremated, and then joked with him to then bring her home, roll her up and smoke her! That would give a whole new meaning to getting high on life, albeit someone else. She still had a hard time believing this man was two thousand years old, yet his body remained numb to the seconds, minutes, days and years that went by. She had seen herself change so much in only ten years, she could hardly wait for the bite that would cast her body into transformation and a stand still state for eternity.

  She loved her parents dearly, but hated that they were your typical old fashioned, close minded elderly of the south. It also made her cringe whenever they would start in on Seneca about how he always stayed so young and how she had aged twenty years since she had known him. Of course she had aged, and he never did, so the ten years he should have aged but had not plus the ten she had, and she could understand how they just happened to say twenty. They did everything with a reason and a purpose. Even when their questions or conversation seemed innocent, there was always a motive or reason behind it. They had always been the type of people that did things for others to make themselves look good. It drove her crazy, but she knew it was too late to change them now. If only they could understand the gift she was about to receive, but being who they were, they thought eternal life meant dying and going to heaven. And could she really put up with them for an eternity anyway. To her, that was the saddest thought of all. It was almost like no matter how old she was, she would never be free and liberated until they had passed away.

  The children loved her parents as most do. It was as it usually is with grandchildren, they get away with things that you never could. China cabinet plates that you were never allowed to touch, they could take out in the yard and make frisbees out of and the grandparents would laugh themselves silly as each piece shattered on the ground like her heart had many times in dealing with them. She would never understand how they could be so cold to her and yet so loving to her kids. The children got hugs and kisses and I love you’s every visit. All she ever got was a see you later and take care. At least it was something. She did know that no matter how they treated her and Seneca, the kids would be taken well care off until this adventure with her husband was taken care of. In a few hours she hoped to know what had been troubling him for the past week or two. He had told her of his many battles with Michael and Lilith, and she wondered if they were the problem this time. She did not like the thought of Seneca in battle after so many years of peace. And if there was to be a battle, would it take place here in New Orleans right in the middle of the biggest season of the year? It was not as if Mardi Gras nights needed any more excitement.

  Chapter 2

  “Amaranth, Lilith, and a Summer Night”

  They had told her parents they just wanted to get out of New Orleans and all the festivities of Mardi Gras for a couple of weeks, it was an easy sell, one, because it gave her parents alone time to spoil the children and two, it made sense when you had seen it as many times as they had. He knew the children would be safe there, Michael and Lilith knew nothing of his family. But he needed Summer by his side, a new radiant one was strong and if she was half the vampire she was mortal, the dark side was in for a major ass kicking. He wasn’t too worried about the children regardless, mortals did his enemies no good. It was only when they were bitten, turned into little vampires, that the real danger set in. They were too young to control the powers they possessed, and as human children were, they were prone to being influenced easily. Ever since the beginning, they had managed to seclude the young when one had been bitten much too early. Why and how the Dark Council had decided they wanted one was beyond reason. H
e knew the how and why, and the thoughts of it coming to fruition were scary even to him. He also knew Summer was about to become immortal before they had planned, but hell, what was two months in a land of forever?

  Throughout the centuries, they had battled. Mostly the fights had been over things that had already gone through his mind, like the accidental encounters at night. Those had been nothing more than little skirmishes, and only became a major issue when Michael and Lilith were in the same area. Then the European battles before it was finally agreed that the radiant ones would leave the foreign shores and take refuge in the Americas. He was glad he had been in charge of those battles and never saw the agreement as a defeat but a smart move on his part. The dark ones had still remained hunted there as they had been known well before he came into existence. It let all of his family leave without detection and live a basically undisturbed life. But over the centuries, the young dark ones had infiltrated the shores and the vampire craze in America had taken off. It is one of the reasons he always wondered about the original vampire story. He had no idea if the man was or not, but it had made life difficult for the dark side, and the feeding at night only for them had led to many a mob lynching. It mattered not to him where the dark ones resided, when a death from a feeding occurred, they were always the ones to get the blame. It was hard to make someone believe in a vampire who could walk around in the sunlight, have a tan, and live a, well, normal wasn’t the word, because there was still the feedings, but live among the humans. The legacy of the vampire being what it was today, had made his life a lot easier.

  He had spent so many years alone. He had never told Summer about Amaranth and her death some two hundred years ago. America was still in its infancy as far as he was concerned. She had been by his side for three hundred years. They had fought back to back against the dark ones, and in what had been his last major battle since then, she had lost her life at the hands of Lilith. It seemed so many battles had been fought over nothing. He would never change his stance on war and foolish fighting, and maybe he was wrong to think humans did it for no reason, because it seemed he had done the same. But it was always, always because the dark ones would not or could not accept the radiant ones existence no matter where they went and always followed and somehow managed to kill one of them. To him, the end to the confrontations had always been simple. An eye for an eye. And the results were always the same, lives lost because of it. Because the dark ones refused to see eye to eye on it.

  The day was always fresh in his mind. He had never worried about Amaranth in battle. She had always been capable of taking care of herself. Just as he was about to do Summer, he had given her the gift of immortality. He had managed to get himself engaged with two of the dark ones, and Lilith had jumped Amaranth and they were locked in a ferocious fight. It was a fight that was evenly matched and it was a fluke the way she had died. There was not another weapon on earth like the sword of a vampire. Made from a secret combination of metals and forged by blacksmith’s long forgotten by the world, they were instruments that placed in the hands of a vampire could cause more damage than a gun. He had just beheaded the second dark one and drove his sword through the heart and turned to see that fateful moment. Amaranth had swung at Lilith with her sword, and missed and as Lilith lunged at her, she quickly stepped aside and tripped. Trying to regain her balance, she stumbled backwards and the stake had pierced her stomach, going all the way through. He watched the blood spill from her mouth, and knew the wound wasn’t fatal as long she got herself off of the stake. But Lilith had been closer than he, and before he could help, the dark Queen’s sword came around, almost in slow motion to him, and Amaranth’s head with its beautiful locks of black hair had fallen to the ground. And with a lunge from her blade, the heart of his beloved was pierced all the way through and with her death, so was his.

  If there was one of the night crawlers to fear, it would have to be Lilith. She was unmerciful in her actions. He had to admit, that her beauty was stunning. She was the death of many mortal and immortal souls, including those of his own race. It was no secret among all the vampires that Michael needed Lilith more than she needed him. Her eyes were a dark, seductive, almost black and her hair matched. Long and flowing down to her curvaceous hips. Her dark blood red lips matched the meal she would drink from the poor creature that crossed her. He had seen her feed, and when she looked at you with the crimson running down the corners of her mouth, it was almost enchanting. It called you to her, to let her take you in her arms and taste the blood on her tongue, to lick it clean with yours. He knew her all to well. She had the bewitching ability to claim any man be he mortal or not and make him her delightful morsel. Make no mistake, Michael was strong or the Council would not have him as their king, the Elders were not Elders because of stupidity and foolishness. And in their dark wisdom, they could afford to lose him, but Lilith was really the jewel in the crown of dark royalty.

  Was he selfish to want Summer immortal? Was it really his choice? It was her fascination that had led him to divulge all his secrets upon her. He remembered all the nights they had watched movies, all the books she had. She was a true vampire expert as far as the human world would have you believe. The night she had told him she had always dreamed and wondered what it would be like to live forever. She had said the only thing she would miss would be the sunrises and doing things in the light, but she would trade it all for everlasting life. It had taken him a year to tell her who he was. As much as she loved the creatures, he wasn’t sure she could handle it in real life. It was easy to live in fantasy, where your dreams could make you believe in things you really thought you believed and wanted. The mind was a tricky player of cards. Sometimes you really didn’t know what hand you had and what you could make of it even though you knew you should fold. You wanted to play and was willing to bet you could make something out of nothing and then when you played, you wished you had gotten out. Would this be what she felt if she was faced with the truth? It was easy to watch on a screen or read in a book. Did she really understand the gruesomeness of the feedings. She would have to witness it first hand to believe him. It was the only common denominator other than the ability of flight between him and the dark ones. He had no coffin to sleep in. His reflection shown in mirrors. If she really meant what she said, and he trusted her, she could be his Amaranth, his new love, the piece of his immortal soul that had been missing for way too many years. If she didn’t, he wished his secret would stay with her. Who would really believe her anyway?

  She had laughed when he told her he was a vampire. She had matter of fact stated that is was impossible. He walked in the sun, had dark skin and she had seen him in a mirror. If he were truly a vampire the sun would have turned him into a pile of dust pan ashes long ago. She had really read too many novels. He had also never let her witness his strength. She had no idea of the things he could do. The abuse his body could take. And there was the cutting, he had not thought of that. Would she faint if he insisted she cut his arm, slit his wrist, watch the blood pour from the wound? All these things were easy in the movies, you could turn away until the gruesomeness was over. But he would want her to see the wound heal before her eyes.

  He had taken her in his arms and taken flight, and when he looked into her eyes, they had the look of a child in bewilderment, like the receiving of a gift they had not expected. He had landed on top of the Superdome. She had not taken her eyes off of his face. She had stammered to him it couldn’t be real, she was dreaming. It was all a big dream and she would wake up beside him in their bed all safe and warm. He had not bothered to answer, nor did he want to, he quickly took to the sky again and scanned the French Quarter streets below for some homeless derelict to sedate his appetite and hope she could stomach what she was about to witness. Would she still want to be a radiant child of darkness when this night was done?

  He found the bum passed out in the alley far away from anyone else. It was when he set her down and started toward the bum that reality set in, she reali
zed this was no longer a dream, a joke. The only part of a vampires allure that she never really liked, was the feedings, the taking of a life to survive. But she had always reminded herself that to be immortal, it was a simple sacrifice she could make. It looked so easy on the silver screen. The derelict was asleep, or passed out, it was how he preferred his victims. It somehow made it justifiable, or easier if the meal was passed out, unaware of what was about to happen. He often wondered if his attacks made a difference to God. If there was a heaven and hell and this poor soul had not repented, could he be sent to eternal torment in hell because he lost his life at the hands of a radiant demon? He knelt before the man and without hesitation sank his teeth into the neck, sucking the life giving nectar from his veins. He could feel the power in the blood. Should he sing the age old hymn of the Christians? No matter the blood that pumped through his veins, there was always a sinister darkness to his thoughts.

  She felt her stomach starting to heave. She tried to hold it back, she felt it in her mouth and then bending over, she was throwing up on the alley pavement. Seneca turned to face her with his lips smeared in blood. She wondered how she could ever kiss him again. She knew her fantasy had been just that, a fantasy. But now in the lonely, empty streets of the Quarter, it had become a twilight zone reality. She had the urge to run, to get away from this creature as fast as she could, but there was a love in her heart for him, and to escape him, it, this thing would be futile she knew if it wanted to feast on her. He sensed the fear in her eyes and instead of moving toward her, he remained still, and asked her in a calm voice f this was still what she wanted to become. Did she believe him now? Could he make her understand the rest of his story and how it all came to be? Or would it be a night in New Orleans that his Summer faded into just another memory?