Hadrian's Wall

by Felicia Jensen

  I bit my lip. I was bored with reading, but suddenly I’m excited.

  (...) “Merlin had the curious ability to change his shape. Generally, he transformed himself into a wolf or a raven—a power that some druids termed ‘transmutation.’ The transmutive interpreted the real forms, (i.e., they converted it into other similar forms, but infinitely more beautiful, powerful, and lethal)—unlike the shapeshifters, shifters, and mutants.”

  Then I glimpsed the striking figure of Morrigan, also known as Morgan. (...) “The goddess of war, death, and rebirth, known as Queen of ghosts and undead” (...) Look, she also had the ability to turn herself into a wolf! (...) “Translucent skin and seductive, defined muscles, incredible strength, invulnerability, piercing eyes, very long hair—these were the descriptions given by the soldiers about her appearance on the battlefield” (...) “Morrigan was a ruthless warrior who came from the supernatural world to lead the troops with her resounding battle cry” (...)

  “Besides the attractive physical appearance and supernatural abilities, what the old dark gods as well as creatures of darkness generally had in common were the nocturnal habits, the desire for blood, their immortality, and power enough to dominate humans through the strange sensual magnetism that were endowed.” (...) “Characteristics markedly of corpses animated by ghosts, known as vampires” (…)

  (...) “The night was their kingdom. As the dark gods, demons, vampires, and fellow creatures of dark, they drew from the night the strength to live among us.

  According to traditions, there would be a world of diurnal, normal, human beings. On the other hand, there would be a nocturnal world—from hideous creatures, shrouded in mystery, which contains dangers and forbidden pleasures... The day would therefore represent the path of goodness and virtue, as well as edifying work and the reason—the night, in turn, would be the ultimate stage of evil and sin, illicit or animalistic activities” (...)

  Good heavens! What did all this have to do with my diagnosis report?

  Later, I saw something concerning the origins of the vampire and demonic figures. Two names came to my attention. “Lamia - Greek demi-goddess and Lilith, who appear in Sumerian and Hebrew mythologies, as well as in Arabic (with the name of Karina). Lilith would have been created before Eve.” Who would have guessed this? “According to Hebrew tradition, Adam had a first wife who fled the marriage and from paradise. The girl was a kind of rebellious girl and would have been punished for that. The punishment made her more rebellious than she was. So she wandered the earth, seeking revenge by killing the sons of Adam and Eve, eating their flesh and drinking their blood.” Yuck!

  Mmmm...I see. She became a serial killer. Big deal! The movies were full of them. Probably, Lilith and Hannibal Lecter would make a pretty interesting romantic couple.

  I clicked the mouse and the page changed.

  Lamia... Where had I heard that name before? The text said that Zeus fell in love with her beauty and the result... well, she became pregnant. It happens that the jealousy of Hera, the wife of the Don Juan that Zeus pretended to be, ceaselessly persecuted the poor woman. Lamia was cursed by Hera and forced to drink the blood of her son, or something (to drink the blood of the children of others, perhaps...). Promiscuity and tragedy ran amuck in the Greek pantheon. Zeus was really a bastard! I’d read about some of his amorous adventures. If I was in Hera’s place, I would have divorced him and had Olympus to myself. Why play the role of the unloved vixen? I guess because Zeus was very powerful and he loved to act like a macho man. What chance would poor Hera have had against him? Thus, the only fun she had was exacting revenge against his lovers—behind his back, of course. Well, if they’d had TV back then, I bet she wouldn’t have wasted her time because she would have been watching Desperate Housewives.

  I clicked the mouse and another page appeared.

  “Although there was evidence of the existence of evil beings in previous reports from other ancient cultures, myths of Morrigan, Lilith and Lamia could be (...) two of the most elaborate—maybe the first sophisticated attempt of the ancients to demonstrate the extent of the powers of darkness. Respectively, each one representing a specific and complex facet of the evil, that would be aggregated to the modern profile of the creatures of darkness in general and the vampire in particular: the bad being as strong, powerful being—like an avenging angel; the bad being as poor, weak or downtrodden being, and sometimes, a suffered being (felled by a tragedy that transformed the creature); the bad being a malicious and unscrupulous being that does perverse acts for its own pleasure and to corrupt innocent people. Are all of these familiar to us? We’re talking about demons, ghosts, and vampires (...) who, in several ancient citations, make up only part of the mythical representation: the dark gods.”

  Oh, I see. They were monsters...like “three in one.”

  (...) “The Chaldeans of Euphrates, for example, they recorded the passage of such creatures. (...) In the rest of Mesopotamia, other people have done so—such as the Assyrians and the Babylonians more than 3000 years B.C.” (...) Wow! So old? I thought it had all started with Bram Stoker.

  “The Sumerians called the vampires of Ekimmu and Uruku. The first were not exactly vampires—the traditions most often painted them as vengeful spirits brought by the gusts of wind. Ekimmu were individuals barred at the door of paradise after death. So they returned to the land because their death was tragic and premature, or because their burial wasn’t done appropriately. To humiliate the human, the Ekimmu entertained themselves by psychologically harassing the weakest people as the spirits that were possessors and/or obsessors (names that would come much later, in the Middle Ages).

  Contrary to the Ekimmu, the Uruku vampires would be legitimate because they would physically attack, feeding themselves on the blood of the victim until death.”

  Look how nice! No, not the death of victim, for God’s sake! I mean, little did I know! “But there are references to vampires in The Thousand and One Nights - called Ghoul - and other Arab narratives as well. Even today, in certain regions of the Middle East, the belief in these creatures is a matter of horror to the people.

  In Malaysia, the natives still fear some beings that are very different from the traditional view we have of vampires: the floating heads of the Penanggalan; the sufferers and dubiously domesticated Langsuir; and finally, the Pontianak, which for some authors were the stillborn children of women transformed into Langsuir, on equal footing with their mothers. The Pontianak take the form of a huge owl.” See? The owl again! To other authors, however, the Pontianak were nothing more than the women who died in childbirth and became very similar to vampires Langsuir own.” Oh, what a mess!

  I decided to jump to another link. What now? “What did the Japanese and the Malaysian vampires have in common? Oh, I see. “Both the Nukekubi and the Penanggalan are not dead creatures. They are living people, flesh and blood by day, behaving like any human being. But at night, they separate from their sleeping body and float up to their victims, devouring them like a lion would a gazelle... Crunch!

  Direct from the Far East to the west’s cold countries... “The Drauger was the most famous vampire of Norse mythology, the type of undead who roamed the catacombs near his burial site because he was always restless after he died.” Perhaps, as in the case of Ekimmu, the Drauger guy has been kicked out of paradise, so he wandered around, pestering the living —a couple of real pains in the neck.

  The tradition described the drauger as a huge figure, with great physical strength and spectacular powers, such as predicting the future, controlling the weather, changing shape, passing through solid walls ... a pest, but with a fluttering cape like Superman.

  And the Dance of Vampires around the world did not stop there...No sir!

  “From Nepalese tradition appears the mysterious Lord of Death, who drank blood from bowls made of human skulls. From the Indians emerged the legend of poisonous Rakshasas (known as destroyers). They walked in gangs and hunted newborns. From Africa, in turn, the cre
atures with “teeth of iron” and the Chinese had their Xiang Shi.”

  What do you know? I thought vampires didn’t exist in those cultures.

  According to authors, in almost every country, including the Americas, there was some record of such creatures. However, Europe, was at the top of the list as the largest “reservoir” of legends about vampires I’ve ever seen. Some from the British Isles, others from Germany, but most of them came from Eastern Europe. The list was enormous.

  Some legends are repeated; others didn’t make sense. The rituals to exorcise the creatures were definitely disgusting! Most of these vampires were too weird to really scare someone. They’d make good characters in Ed Wood movies! Incredibly, Europe endured an intense wave of vampire terror during the eighteenth century. In many rural communities, the subject of “vampires” was treated as a serious matter.

  I clicked on the mouse, looking for more information. This was fascinating to me.

  Lycaon... the figure of werewolf and vampire appear associated in various descriptions. Some authors claimed that in earlier times the two were part of the same myth.

  I don’t understand. That meant...first, the dark god became a demon, who later would become a vampire, which, in turn, would become a supernatural wolf? Or...doesn’t the order of factors affect the product? When exactly did the four creatures become distinct things? Mmm... It was like the evolution of the species, like from the monkey to man.

  But we must not forget the big, fat bat! When did the vampire become a bat? Some links indicated that the connection between them was made because of an Indian mythical monster—a giant bat that would have existed in India. Maybe the ancients watched the bats feeding off the blood of animals and made the connection?

  Yeah, but...and then? When the vampire became a Mothman? I was totally confused, as if someone had tied a knot in my brain. My winged monster was or was not a representation of a vampire? No, absolutely not!

  Besides, I haven’t enjoyed the stories of vampires. Never! I considered them disgusting, depressing. Not even Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt could convince me otherwise.

  Vampires. There was nothing remotely charming about them—one exception being Edward Cullen, of course. Well...

  I ran my eyes over the text and links to find a very disturbing excerpt: (...) “Lilith preferred to attack pregnant women, using the form of an owl. In several cultures, some gods and other mythological beings also took the form of this enigmatic bird. The sages knew of their impending arrival by the sound of wings echoing in the distance” (...)

  Like me and my flying monster. Uh oh! I’d better get back to the werewolf, it’s safer for my sanity.

  Lycaon would have been a great, but terrible king, transformed by Zeus into a bloodthirsty wolf with yellow eyes. Yellow eyes! And everything because the blabbermouth mocked the authority of the supreme god of Olympus—in public, no less! You know, gossip is faster than satellite transmission. Zeus was furious when he learned, but decided to do nothing until he heard it with his own ears. Fair enough from him, I have to admit. So he went there in disguise, ready to catch the disastrous words of the king. Sure enough! After all, the king with the inflated ego was talking to whoever would listen. Zeus turned him into a big dog! (...) “So Zeus ordered that all who were bitten by the beast and survived would become as he was—a wolf.” (...) Hence arose the expression—“cursed sons of Lycaon.”

  Even with the “thing” of owl, bat, and wolf... so the entire zoo, which for me was not sufficient for a minimally rational explanation, I came to wonder, what do vampires, demons, and werewolves have to do with my dreams and hallucinations?

  * * *

  I looked at the screen without seeing. My head felt hollow, as if I had lost the energy needed to make decisions. After a while, I had sufficiently recovered so that I could organize my ideas and make plans for immediate actions.

  On impulse, I went online again and typed “orphanage, Dailey’s Crossing.” No search results appeared—no mention whatsoever. I froze. Calm down, girl! It should be there somewhere. Dailey’s Crossing was such a small place that it didn’t even warrant a dot on the map, so why should I expect there to be anything about it on Google?

  I located a site with some of Groveton’s government offices and found the phone number of the Town Hall. I pulled the phone over to the computer desk and dialed direct. The person who answered the call confirmed that the orphanage still exists and gave me the number. I heaved a sigh of relief. At least I had not invented that place. Great.

  I punched the numbers on the phone’s keypad and waited.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this the orphanage in Dailey’s Crossing?”

  “Yes, may I help you?”

  “I want to talk to the director, please.”

  “I am the director.”

  “Oh, well...I don’t know if you remember me, Mrs. Winfield. This is Melissa Baker. I was one of your children.”

  Silence.

  “Mrs. Winfield?”

  “Mrs. Winfield died about a month ago.”

  What?

  “Director Janet Winfield died? How?”

  “She was in a terrible car accident.”

  “Wow! I’m sorry...” I nervously ran my fingers through my hair. “Is the orphanage still functioning normally?”

  “Yes, the county continued to maintain it until the congregation invited me to come.”

  “Can I talk to Mrs. Jones?”

  “Who?”

  “Linda Jones.”

  There’s no one here by that name.”

  “How can that be? She was Director Winfield’s secretary.”

  “She must have left before I assumed this position.”

  The woman was getting impatient. She probably had a lot of things to do and I was keeping her from her work.

  Since I had no other alternative, I decided to get straight to the point. “Listen, I need to ask a favor of you, please. Can you verify my record? I was a resident of the institution until I was 18 years old.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “It’s complicated.” I was really nervous because my claim sounded absurd, even to my own ears. “I had an accident and lost my memory. There is no record of my time at the place where I believed I was until very recently. I need to make sure that my memory, what’s left of it anyway, is not playing tricks on me. I need to know if the facts are consistent with the souvenirs I have. Could you please check my file?”

  “I’m sorry, but I cannot give such information over the phone. Why not come here and talk to me in person?” Her voice was friendly and persuasive.

  I noticed that there was a hiss in the background, which I hadn’t noticed before.

  “I cannot. I’m far from the orphanage now,” I tried to explain.

  There was a pause and I swear I could hear the sound of someone breathing, harsh and impatient.

  “And where are you, darling? Maybe I can help you.”

  Something had changed in that conversation. I couldn’t discern if it was her tone, her concern, or the alarm bells sounding in my head. I slammed the phone down without answering her question. My heart felt like it was about to leap out of my mouth. What is happening?

  I clicked again on the search site and found a list of addresses and phone numbers online classified for cities and states. Now what? I typed in the name “Jones” but I couldn’t remember Mr. Jones’ first name, so I tried “Linda Jones” first, but there was no listing. Her husband’s name was “Bill”—the nickname of “William.” I typed in his full name, but there was no listing in Berlin, NH. Well, that doesn’t mean that the Joneses did not exist, only that their names were not listed. Still, I could only know if I returned to Berlin.

  Suddenly, something occurred to me—a disturbing comment made by Dr. Talbott. He said that my name was on the register of the Polish Man Springs Resort. Mmmm...I found the address and phone number on the Internet. It wasn’t difficult since the place had its own website.

 
Adrian was not exaggerating when he said the mountain was a deluxe tourist resort. I was momentarily distracted by the beautiful pictures of the rapids and tracks—such a beautiful place. It was hard to believe it could be haunted.

  Well, I didn’t have time to read about the place now. I picked up the phone and dialed again, but instead of accessing an outside line, the phone went dead for a few seconds, before an intermittent sound began. Before I could figure out what was happening, a voice asked, “Yes?” It was the operator. What a fright!

  “I...uh...I’m trying to make a call.”

  “Our direct line is temporarily disconnected due to technical problems. If you want to call out, just give me the number and I will complete your call for you.”

  Oh…Okay!

  I sighed, exasperated. There was nothing I could do about it. I gave her the number and waited. It didn’t take even five seconds and I was with the receptionist of hostel on the line.

  “Polish Man Springs Resort...good afternoon.”

  “Hi, my name is Melissa Baker. I would like to confirm the record of my stay at the inn about a fortnight ago.”

  Silence. Two voices began to whisper near the phone.

  “We do not give this information by phone,” she finally said. “You will have to come here, with your documents, so we can open the guest book.”

  “Right...thank you.”

  “Sorry I can’t help you. The rules, you know?” The girl tried to be nice. “What if you were a serial killer choosing your next victim?” The girl laughed at her own joke, but I didn’t. I remembered a similar comment made by someone who, according to the neurologist, existed only in my head.

  Oh, if only I could locate the company that Bob works for...but I didn’t know the name. I didn’t pay attention to the damn logo on the side of the truck. Just my luck...I pay attention to everything, yet I missed it. No, I have a condition...really. To uncover the truth, I would have return to South Portland, but was that what I really wanted—’to leave Hadrian’s Wall?’ Dr. Barringer’s words came back to me.