Immortal Storm

by Heather Bserani

  Dori knew all too well about the monster in the woods. She subconsciously rubbed at her arms, feeling the marks where she had been bitten. Venturing a glance at her friend, she saw Addison biting her lip and frantically practicing on her relèvés. Dori could hear her heart racing. She was clearly upset. Protective of her friend, Dori was instantly angry at Corinne for flaunting the upsetting news. It seemed to Dori that somehow, Addison knew something about the vampire that attacked her, and it wasn’t good. Dori tucked her legs underneath her, stood and walked over to her friend.

  “Hey girl, how about you help me with my fouetté turns? Let’s go somewhere where it isn’t so crowded.” Addison finally stopped working her feet and made eye contact with Dori. Her eyes were full of tears, but she smiled. The two headed toward a different studio to finish warming up for the day.

  Chapter Sixteen

  May 2, 1598

  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of deathe, I fear no evil. Barwicke has founde me out nearly every eve and has punished me for my attempte on his life. He brings me within a whisper of demise and leaves me to heal, only to repeat the torture the following nighte. It seems to be his new favorite activitie. For the pain I endure, at leaste he is aiding in my quest for his downfall. He has indeed shown me many ways that a vampire cannot be killed.

  I have found myselfe becoming hardened toward things that used to bring me happiness. It is futile to look for joy when I can never experience it again. I no longer feel I am being punished, that would mean there was something to be learned. Rather, I am being trained. Every interaction with the hunter brings me closer to finding his weakness. Even though I am damned by God above, I will not hesitate to exact His will and smite the bringer of Evil, the Devil’s henchman, my Master, Mr. Barwicke.

  To this end, I know that no amount of dismemberment can kill the undead. As if by sheer will to survive, those pieces will draw together again and reanimate, leaving a rather angry vampire. Holy water burns like acid, but is simply an annoyance and wields no power over our being. Salt is better used at seasoning meat for those who consume such to maintain their humanitie. Impossible it is to strangle or choke the life from us as we do not require aire to fuel our bodies. Even when drained of bloode, we continue to exist, albeit quite painfully, until an errant creature errs in its path. Instinct will drive us to feed upon anything that wanders too closely to our teeth.

  Most painful was when Barwicke sent his minions to bludgeon me, leaving nary a bone unbroken. The pain filled my vision, my veins, my mind, but ever so slowly, I felt the fibers of my being weave themselves back together. I was left to heal and I dragged myself to the nearest trenche to hide away until the morrow. Nigh, all of these are insufficient ways to bring an end to the undead. Alas, I wonder if my search is in vain. I fear that Barwicke may best me before I succeed in my queste.

  The light grows dim and I fear he has already begun tonight’s search.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The week before the show was appropriately called Hell Week. Rehearsals were longer and everyone was on edge, brimming with nerves and anticipation. Dori found this week to be a challenge she would happily meet. Her body had since healed from the attack, but her mind was still reeling. She couldn’t help the continuous barrage of thoughts that kept attacking her. No matter how hard she tried to keep them at bay, snapshots of her flight and her anonymous attacker kept popping into her head. Only Hell Week could absorb her fully enough to drive away the images that plagued her. She welcomed the distraction and threw herself into rehearsal with an unparalleled gusto that was earning her a lot of attention from the other dancers and even the director.

  “I don’t know...how you have the stamina...to dance like this... all day, Dori!” Addison’s words were punctuated by her gasping for air.

  “I just let go and put my very soul out there for everyone to see. Trust me. It’s not at all easy.” No need to tell Addison that she was trying to chase away the boogieman or that she had unfair physical advantages over the human species in general.

  Finally the director ended the rehearsal and the company headed toward the dressing rooms. The dancers walked in silence, too tired to even speak. Dori followed Addison into the claustrophobic room which was lined with mirrors, a low counter and spherical light bulbs framing each ballerina’s dressing area. In the center of the far wall, obscuring Addison’s nook, a gigantic bouquet of flowers had appeared. Splashes of color painted the bouquet, which was so plentiful that the blossoms hung over into Dori’s dressing area as well. Their perfume saturated the small room, which was now full of giddy and buzzing ballerinas.

  “Oh! Who are they from?” asked an eager member of the corps.

  “I don’t rightly know,” Addison’s thick drawl filled the space. It was hard to tell which was bigger, the bouquet or her smile. “I bet my daddy sent them.”

  It was funny to Dori to hear a woman refer to her father as “Daddy”, but apparently it was a southern thing. Addison was looking for the card that accompanied the gift amidst the jealous whispers of the other girls. Finally, lifting a gerbera daisy the size of a saucer, she found a card tucked away. Addison tore it open, too excited to contain herself.

  “My Dearest Addison –

  The angels are surely jealous of your grace and beauty. I, however, am happy to take it in. Break a leg!

  -- Percy”

  Closing her eyes, Addison sighed and clutched the card to her chest. She opened her eyes again and reread the card.

  “Who’s it from?” asked a voice in the back of the room.

  “A gentleman named Percy.” Addison’s elation was written all over her face. She was positively glowing. A chorus of “oohs” erupted through the room.

  “An admirer!” The girls continued their chatter but began heading to their areas of the dressing room. Dori stood and smiled at her friend as she watched Addison lean in to smell different flowers in the bouquet. She was snapped out of her peaceful reverie when the costumer ran in barking,

  “Let’s go, ladies! I need to get these costumes back to wardrobe. They have to be cleaned and hung for tomorrow!”

  Dori happily slipped off the stiff tutu and into a comfy pair of sweats. Addison did the same, never taking her eyes off the flowers. Dori actually chuckled out loud as her friend attempted to pick up the massive arrangement.

  “Don’t bother, Addi – you are going to be here all day tomorrow anyway. You might as well leave them. Save your energy, you are going to need it.”

  “You’re right Dori. I just can’t believe this!” Addison reached into the bouquet and pulled out two huge tiger lilies. She kept one and offered the other to Dori.

  “Thanks. Go get some rest. We need to be ready to open tomorrow!”

  When Dori got home, there was a message from Michael on the machine.

  “Sorry I’m late. I’ll be leaving the library shortly. We can go out for a bite when I get home. I love you.”

  Dori smiled and shook her head at Michael’s not so subtle joke. She never got tired of hearing it. Michael had gone to the library every day after finishing at the gallery. He was searching for any information that would identify Dori’s attacker. He started with the newspaper article Corinne mentioned at the ballet and then traced it back to some local ghost stories that were loosely connected. While she tried to block her memories of that awful night, Michael was burning to discover any information that would help him destroy the monster in the woods.

  Dori decided a good, hot shower was in order while she waited for Michael to get home. Her muscles could certainly use it. She lingered under the hot water, allowing her muscles to relax. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the wall and let the soothing stream work on her lower back. Letting herself go, she lost track of time. It wasn’t until the hot water started to cool that she began thinking of getting out.

  Although the fan was on, the bathroom was dense with steam. It hovered and swirled as she moved through it. Humidity clung to the b
ack of her throat as she inhaled the thick air. The mirror was opaque, obscuring her reflection. She moved her fingers slowly through the fog watching as they slipped through. She was eerily reminded of the evil vampire attack once again.

  “So what is the antidote to steam?” Dori asked herself. “What possible defense do we have?”

  Frustrated, she opened the bathroom door, knowing that with the fresh, cold air the steam would disperse. She thought about that option for a split second, but then realized that the steam wasn’t being destroyed. The less humid air was simply diluting it and allowing it to escape, not eliminating it. Her problem required something more final. Before she could come up with another theory she heard Michael’s voice ring through the apartment announcing his arrival.

  A few moments later Dori was ready to go and the two set off into the night. They didn’t need to discuss where they were going; they simply headed in the opposite direction of Pocahontas State Park. They did their part to reduce an overpopulation of deer while discussing Michael’s findings.

  “It turns out, there was a large concentration of settlers that supposedly died in Jamestown. Things weren’t documented as well then as they are now, so it’s not clear how many there were, or what was done with their remains. I think they were changed and migrated to the forest where you found them. But if that’s indeed who we are dealing with, how did they become what they are? There had to be someone who changed them.”

  Dori had never feared the dark, but discussing this in a setting so similar to where she was attacked was making the bile rise in her throat. She stood to leave without responding to Michael and rubbed her arms nervously. It was a habit that developed after she had been bitten so many times. She never thought of herself as weak, but her nerves were getting the better of her. She took a few steps toward where they had left the car and turned back to Michael.

  “Michael, can we go home?” Her thin voice wavered, giving her away. Her eyes were pleading.

  “Sure.” Michael was pensive. She thought that he might be starting to grasp just how deeply she was scarred by the whole situation. He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him. His warmth radiated through her and she was happy to have something between her and the darkness.

  “Don’t worry, Preziosa. We will get this guy. I will spend the rest of my days teaching you to embrace the night again.”

  Dori shivered. She was remembering the monster’s tongue tracing the edge of her face. Michael misinterpreted her sudden trembling and gave her his coat. She didn’t want to explain that the coat couldn’t chase away the cold that clung to her now. Instead she asked him a question that had been plaguing her since the attack.

  “Michael, it doesn’t matter who he is, or was. How do you kill something that you can’t touch? When he shifts into a mist, it’s like, well, he’s invincible. He can’t be hurt. He can’t be grabbed. He will just slip through our fingers, like trying to hold water. I just don’t see how we...” Her voice hitched as she tried to inhale. She didn’t need to finish her sentence, though; the sentiment hung heavy in the air.

  “Dorianna, I will protect you. You will not be hurt again.” Michael said this with such finality that she didn’t press the issue. He never let go of her as they made their way home. He held her hand until they were safely in their apartment. As they crossed the threshold, the tension she had been holding in her neck and shoulders relaxed and she was finally able to breathe easily.

  “I’m going to get ready for bed.” Dori wanted nothing more than to climb under her comforter and drift away to happier places. She went to the bathroom to wash her face. Again she let the water run trying to wash away more than what was on her skin. The hot water did a lot to warm her up and she began to feel slightly more relaxed. Her hands were red from the near scalding water, but she continued to splash her face and neck with it. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the water as it splashed in the sink and ran down the drain. The water had been running so long that the air in the bathroom was once again thick with humidity. A slight knock on the door interrupted her and she shut off the faucet.

  “Everything all right in there?” Michael’s voice was soft, but she could detect his concern.

  Grabbing a towel, she began hastily dabbing her face and neck. “I’ll be out in a ...” She couldn’t finish. She was looking at the mirror above the sink. The chords in her neck were standing out; she had dropped the towel and was gripping the edge of the sink with both hands. Her knuckles were white and aching. Her breath was caught in her chest and it seemed as if even her heart was choking on what she saw there.

  “Dori?”

  Her scream cut through the early morning and Michael was in the bathroom instantly. He saw her, still unable to look away from the mirror. His arms wrapped around her, trying to shake her from her terror. Michael then focused on what it was that was causing her panic.

  A message had been traced on the foggy mirror. It was made by dragging a finger across the surface of the misty glass. The water had run in drips from the bottom of some of the letters when it had been written. She thought the drips ironically looked like tears. The message was simple but the threat was clear. She was far from out of danger.

  “I can’t die. You will.”

  In another second Michael had covered her mouth with his hand, muting her screams.

  “Dori, it’s okay. I’m here and I will keep you safe. Nothing is going to happen. Calm down. Dori, listen to me.” Michael continued to whisper to her, eventually speaking in Italian. His murmuring gradually soothed her and although she quieted down, he couldn’t quell her panic.

  “We can’t stay here, we have to go. Now! Grab your keys, we have to go!” She couldn’t spend another minute here if that monster knew where she lived.

  “Michael, how did he find us? How did he get here? We have to go.”

  She darted from the bathroom and slipped on her shoes in the same instant. Michael caught her as she rummaged through the closet for a coat.

  “Dori, wait.”

  She turned to look at him, her eyes full of incredulity. She couldn’t believe that Michael wasn’t trying to escape as quickly as she was. So much for protecting her. His passivity stunned her so completely that she couldn’t form even one of the thousand questions racing through her mind.

  “Dori, I know this is hard for you to hear, but I don’t think we need to run right now.”

  Dori raised her eyebrows and tried unsuccessfully to swallow. Still speechless, her eyes spoke volumes.

  “I think the threat is gone. If whoever this monster is wanted to harm you tonight, he would have already done it. He wouldn’t be leaving you messages. He is trying to scare you and apparently it’s working. No. Th threat is definitely gone. Take your coat off.”

  Dori continued to stand there in disbelief. Michael wanted to stay here. She felt as though she were coming unhinged. She searched his eyes trying to find something that would anchor her in the world which was now spinning around her like a whirlpool. The spinning was threatening to take her down with it. She felt as though her grasp on reality was precarious at best.

  Michael reached out to her and helped her out of her coat. He steadied her as he pulled off her sneakers one at a time and set them silently on the closet floor. He took her tenderly by the hands and pulled her into his embrace. She was still having a hard time believing he intended to stay here, knowing that her attacker had been here earlier.

  “You are safe tonight, Ballerina Girl.”

  She trusted this voice. With Grandma’s reassurance, she walked silently to the bedroom, buried herself under the covers and lay perfectly still. She waited for sleep to claim her, but it never came. It was probably for the best; she was certain she would have been plagued by nightmares.

  While she lay in the dark, her mind darted between thoughts. She felt invaded for a second time. That monster had been in her home. He had been in the very bathroom where she had showered only a few ho
urs ago. Then it occurred to her that his message could be interpreted two ways. It could simply be taken at face value for the threat it was, but it was something else as well. When she had been alone after her shower she had asked no one in particular how to destroy steam. This message was his answer. That meant that he had been there watching her when she was all alone and vulnerable. He had been that close to her, in the actual steam that caressed her naked body, and she had no idea. Her stomach twisted and she had to run back to that same bathroom where she was plagued with dry heaves.

  Michael came for her after a few minutes. Undoubtedly, his ability to sense her whereabouts had awoken him. Her stomach eventually settled down and he helped her up. Her clammy hands wrapped around him and she let him lead her back to bed.

  “Why, Michael? Why?”

  He had no answer for her. Instead his arms encircled her waist and pulled her into the safety of his embrace. Neither of them spoke; they didn’t need to, their fear was tangible. She watched the minutes tick by on her alarm clock. She decided to get up when she saw the first signs of daylight. There was no use in pretending to be resting while staying still was making her uptight.

  She got ready without going into the bathroom and tiptoed back to the bed to kiss Michael goodbye. He was awake and the expression on his face was tortured and full of guilt. His eyes revealed a vulnerability that she wasn’t used to seeing. She knew he felt terrible about not being able to better protect her. She wondered what her face told him. She didn’t linger long enough for him to comment; instead, she turned and headed toward the ballet.