Immortal Storm

by Heather Bserani

  Michael stared at her; his wide eyes were full of wonder. She held his gaze for a long moment, and then she felt the heat rising in her cheeks. She looked away, embarrassed by his awestruck expression.

  “You are easily the most amazing creature I have ever had the pleasure of loving.” The smile spread across his face like a beacon of light. It had been a while since she had seen his unfettered happiness. Until now, she hadn’t realized that her fear had taken such a toll on him. They lingered in the forest, lying comfortably in each other’s arms and looking at the stars. The first signs of dawn were appearing before the two made their way home, hand in hand.

  “Welcome back, Ballerina Girl.”

  * * *

  The glowing sun woke Dori. It warmed her face and she could tell without looking that it was bright. Inhaling deeply, she slowly opened her eyes, anticipating the sting she would feel from the shining light. Happily, she saw that Michael had pulled the thin curtain, so the brilliant rays were muted. She saw him next. He was lying on his side, his head propped up by his arm. His eyes were sparkling as if the sun were trapped inside them instead of shining down from above. She stared into them and was surrounded by the brilliant emerald color of summer. It was like walking into a field of tall grass or being embraced by trees with outstretched branches heavy with leaves. If it were up to her, she would spend the majority of her free time staring into Michael’s eyes.

  “Good Morning, Preziosa.” Michael reached over and wound a lock of her hair in her fingers. His touch was tender. The atmosphere between them had changed so much in one day. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, her nose, and finally his lips pressed to hers. There was no urgency in this kiss. The passion wasn’t burning; it was simply a clear statement of his adoration. She not only welcomed his emotion, but gladly returned it.

  “Since you don’t have to be at the theater until later, I thought that you could help me out at the gallery today. I need a subject for a new painting.”

  Dori prefaced her response with a genuinely sweet smile.

  “Actually Michael, I think we should go to the library. I want to know more about Percy.”

  The morning melted into the early afternoon while they searched microfiche and poured through antiquated documents that discussed the Jamestown settlement. Finally, Dori discovered a list of dead or missing from the original colony that struck a chord. Frustrated that there wasn’t more information, she scanned the list which contained more than a hundred names organized alphabetically.

  “Barwicke, Percival. I’ll bet that’s our guy.”

  “What else does it say about him?” Michael asked trying to hide his urgency.

  “Nothing. He is just mentioned on this list. It has to be him. Perhaps next time we should focus on vampire lore. We are going to need a plan to eradicate a group of them.”

  “Ok, I’ll work on that tomorrow. Let’s get you home, you have to impress another audience tonight.”

  She smiled as he took her hand and they left the library together. Every moment that they were together and happy strengthened her resolve to not only stand up to Percy, but to defeat him. It was something she was certain she could do as long as the man she loved was by her side.

  * * *

  Addison was already at the theater when Dori arrived. She was warming up, feverishly working on her relèvés. Her eyes were closed and her forehead wore an uncharacteristic veil of crinkles. Dori could see the muscles in Addison’s jaw tensing as she clenched and unclenched her teeth. Addison didn’t even notice her as she sauntered over to the barre.

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  “Oh! I didn’t see you come in! I was actually thinking about something I heard in church today.”

  Dori was pensive for a moment, remembering that Addison attended service every Sunday. What could have been said to upset her friend? Dori wasn’t religious per se, but she respected those who were. She was also under the impression that church was supposed to make a person feel better. She wondered what Addison would think if she knew she was speaking with the eternally damned.

  “Was the priest talking about something bad?”

  “It wasn’t the service itself that bothered me. It was afterward when we were chatting over refreshments.” They were both stretching at the barre now, however Addison was engrossed in her memory. “I overheard some members of the congregation discussing an upcoming clerical visit of sorts.”

  “That doesn’t seem so bad.” With as strong as religion was in the south, Dori didn’t initially see the problem with a religious visit. Then she remembered that Addison was Greek Orthodox. Her small congregation was significantly overshadowed by the Baptist contingent in the region. “Oh, I get it now. You are worried about how it will be perceived. Being such a minority congregation -”

  “No, that’s not it at all. They are coming for a much more sinister reason.” Dori stopped stretching. “Do you remember when you wanted to go camping?” It was as if the world stopped. Dori couldn’t speak; in fact, she had to remind herself to breathe. “It turns out other members of the congregation have heard the stories too.” Addison glanced at Dori to gauge her expression. Addison wasn’t the only one with wide eyes.

  “Okay, so a few people are here to judge for themselves if the ghost stories are true. No big deal.” Dori was trying to regulate her voice.

  “These aren’t just a few people, Dori. Half of the monks from Sed Naya are coming! They are going into the forest. Some of our congregation has volunteered to go too. My Daddy is going! If what happened to my brother happens to Daddy too, I just don’t know how my Momma and I will handle it.” The words burst from Addison, a little more loudly than Dori had expected, startling her. They rang in her ears.

  “What happened to your brother?”

  “He was murdered in that forest. He was torn apart. They never found all the pieces. He was only 19! Daddy never got over it, none of us did.” Addison’s voice waivered and her eyes welled with tears. She was struggling to keep it together. Dori closed the gap between the two of them with a single step and wrapped Addison in a bear hug. After a moment the two separated and Dori changed the topic.

  “What’s Sed Naya?” Dori tried out the word, wondering what it meant.

  Addison sighed. “It’s an important monastery in Syria. Some of the monks there feel it’s their job to reach out and spread the word of the Lord, and to rid the world of Darkness too. I guess my Daddy finally convinced them there is real danger. For that many monks to be leaving...well, Dori, it’s a big deal.”

  “But it’s just a ghost story! Even the rangers say its animals. Doesn’t it seem like...overkill to you?” The word stuck in her throat. Dori was leaning toward Addison now, her voice a hushed whisper. She wasn’t scared so much as she was anxious. Would these new visitors see through her human ruse?

  “Apparently, we aren’t the only ones who think it’s more than just a story.” Addison stepped closer to Dori. “There’s a witness who says it’s not animals causing the trouble. There’s Evil in that forest, and the monks are coming to exorcise it.”

  Dori and Addison were interrupted by some of their colleagues coming to warm up. They abruptly stepped away from each other, but their gazes spoke volumes. Once again Dori found herself left with more questions than she had answers. When would this contingency of monks arrive? What was it they thought they were chasing? How did they intend on “exorcising” the evil lurking in the woods? Could they? Could mere men kill Percy and his minions who may have survived the last several hundred years?

  The bottom line was a large coven of bloodthirsty vampires was about to clash with an assembly of monks in the immediate vicinity. Nothing good would come of this. How many would die? Could she stand by and let the humans be slaughtered? What was Dori’s role in this? Would she and Michael be discovered? Would they be killed too?

  It was impossible to continue the conversation then. Dori and Addison weren’t alone for the rest of the evening. Again, D
ori found comfort by throwing herself into the performance. It seemed like the only part of her life that was predictable and in control any more. When the show was over, they walked silently back to the dressing room. The other dancers followed, and although they weren’t as energetic as opening night, they chatted casually on their way. Dori and Addison were the only ones who weren’t conversing.

  Finally after all the other ballerinas had filtered out, happy to have finished the week, there was an opportunity to speak privately.

  “I just don’t know what to think. I hope these monks know what they are doing. If Daddy were hurt, or worse...” Addison’s voice trailed off. The two women stared into each other’s worried faces and after half a minute, Dori started shoving her dance shoes in her bag. A sudden sense of urgency surged in her. Not only was a group of lethal vampires after her, now she had to fear a large gathering of angry monks apparently called over by Addison’s father. In his efforts to avenge his son’s murder, he was going to attack the very monster that was pretending to woo his daughter. It was coming at Dori from all sides. She wasn’t afraid, but the empty dressing room was starting to close in around her. She needed some air and she needed a place to think.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Addison.” Blond curls shook as Addison ran trembling fingers through her hair. Dori was saddened by her friend’s fear. Addison had every right to be scared, but she was fearful for the wrong reason. The overseas visit wasn’t the malice. Addison was completely unaware that her “admirer” was really the evil that this contingency of religious men was coming for.

  After hugging her for the fifteenth time and reassuring her that everything was going to be alright, Addison finally felt comfortable enough to go home. It didn’t help that she would be going home alone, to an empty house. Dori almost invited her over, but Percy knew where and how to find her. Having Addison there would only be asking for trouble. The girl who had always been a spitfire no longer seemed so indefatigable. With a heavy sadness Dori accepted that her vulnerable friend was going to have to survive the night alone.

  On her way home, Dori tried to gain perspective of the larger picture. There was a coven of very old vampires stalking the forest around Richmond. These vampires could roam freely among humans without detection. The leader of this coven, Percy, was infinitely more dangerous than anything Dori or Michael had ever encountered. Not only did he wield the superhuman ability to shape-shift, he was smart enough to use flattery to woo Addison, the sister of one of his prior victims. To contrast the lurking evil, there was a rather large group of God-fearing men, men who gave up everything to do the work of the Lord, who were coming here to eradicate Percy and his coven and possibly Dori and Michael too. The monks had been called over by Addison’s father in an attempt to seek vengeance for the unfortunate loss of the family’s only son – an eye for an eye, so to speak. Dori didn’t know exactly where she stood with God, but she respected those who believed. She wasn’t sure that the monks knew what they were up against. She was almost certain that they couldn’t win. Dori had never seen a vampire killed, in fact Michael was the only other vampire she had ever seen.

  The final piece of this puzzle was Addison. For some reason, Percy had decided to make her his target as well. Why? She had been certain that it was her fault Addison was in danger, but now it seemed as if she had been pulled in through their friendship. It appeared that fate had played a hand by putting the two together. It was just a bonus for Percy to torment Dori. He had been successful for a little while, but this whole thing needed to end. That meant Percy had to die.

  She was pondering how to go about killing him as she walked into the apartment. Surprisingly, Michael was already home, his head in an ancient book. It was actually handwritten. Her eyes grew wide in surprise, how long ago was the printing press invented? She wondered how he had gotten it from the library, and then decided it wasn’t important. Clearly he was searching for some clue in the archaic book that would help them do some “exorcising” of their own.

  She shared Addison’s story with him. She flowed seamlessly into her speculations on why Addison was being involved. Michael sat utterly still while he processed everything he was saying.

  “I can’t let anything happen to Addison. I feel like I need to protect those monks, too. They may not realize what they are getting themselves into. It would be wrong to let Percy kill them; they are trying to save innocent lives.”

  “What monastery did you say they were from again?”

  “Addison said it was an important one. I honestly think she was offended that I didn’t recognize the name immediately. How am I supposed to keep track of all the monasteries in the world?” The last question came out a bit snippy. She was still trying to figure out why the name of the place stuck out to her, yet she was certain she had never heard of it. Realizing she hadn’t answered Michael’s question, Dori sighed and responded, “Sed Naya.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” Michael’s voice was no more than a whisper; in fact, Dori thought he was probably talking to himself. She didn’t have the opportunity to ask him because her mind was racing once more.

  The name of the monastery was echoing in Dori’s head. First she heard it in Addison’s feminine drawl, but as the two words were repeated, the voice deepened and took on a strange accent. Dori was distracted and dizzy from the feeling of déjà vu she was experiencing. She was certain that she had heard that voice before, but where?

  With a jolt, Dori blinked and shook her head. She felt like she was waking up. The voice in her head was gone so quickly it was almost as if it had never been there. She swallowed and decided there was another problem to add to the ever-growing list. It seemed as if now she was hearing voices. This wasn’t an honest-to-goodness voice and frankly, it sounded rather agonized.

  “Dori!” Michael was calling her now, a little worried at her lack of response. She wondered how long he had been trying to get her attention. “When do they arrive?”

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t ask that, I’ll ask Addison tomorrow.” She wasn’t focusing on him, she was replaying the voice in her head. Her eyes squinted with effort. What was it with that place that unsettled her? She certainly had enough to think about.

  “I’m going to bed, Michael. I have too much on my mind.” She didn’t wait for a response; she turned and left the room. Being much too troubled, she didn’t fall asleep quickly. After much tossing and turning, she finally succumbed. Naturally her waking thought had influenced her dream that night.

  Dori wandered through an ancient city. The cobbles of the street were uneven under her feet. She looked around at the stone houses surrounding her. Reddish, grey and mostly black two-story stone dwellings lined the narrow street. The roads here were so ancient they couldn’t accommodate the width of the average car. The buzz of life surrounded her. There were people chatting in a foreign tongue on the other side of a wall. She could hear the soothing sound of a fountain from the other side of the street. From a few houses away, she heard a woman’s voice lifted in song, lilting through a complicated melody. Jasmine perfumed the air and clung to the walls everywhere she looked.

  She stopped walking and leaned her back against one of the stone walls. She was surprised by how cool it was. It was then that she realized the sweltering heat pressing down on her. It was hard to breathe. Each time she inhaled, her insides caught fire. It was a different sensation than being thirsty: although Dori had gone to sleep without feeding, this was a more human pain. At that moment, she realized that in this dream she was human. That was odd.

  An ancient man was approaching from behind. His shoulders were slumped forward and his feet shuffled as he walked. This man leaned on a cane as he moved; his mouth slack. The stranger was carrying a honey-colored wooden box. It wasn’t very large, although it seemed heavy. She couldn’t see the contents, as they were hidden by a hinged lid. He stopped every few steps to set the box down and catch his breath. She saw the man use his long headscarf to dab the sweat from
his brow. She felt bad that he was laboring in this heat, but something about the box intrigued her. She made a move to approach him. In a gentle tone, she bent and asked if the old man needed any help.

  “Leish?”

  Dori paused. She realized a little late that this poor man didn’t speak English. The man simply shook his head and stooped over to once again pick up his box. Now that she was closer, she could almost hear the box calling to her. She stared at it, wondering what could be inside. A strange urge to snatch it away bubbled up from inside her; she had to have it. She moved to take it from his hands and he gripped it more tightly than she anticipated. For an elderly man, he certainly was strong. They stood locked in that silent tug-of-war for a few seconds before she ended up ripping the box from his hands.

  The old man, surprised, finally raised his voice, but it was mixed with tears. He turned his head upward, but was still shaking it from side to side. He balanced precariously with one hand on his cane and the other extended toward the sky.

  “Leish, ya Allah, Leish?” He kept repeating the same mantra with a voice full of pain and confusion. Dori saw the tears spill down his wrinkled cheeks. His knees began to wobble and she feared the old man would fall down. Questioning her own actions, she quickly tucked the box under her arm and turned to apologize. She hoped her eyes could communicate her feelings better than her words.

  Intrigued by the foreign world that seemed to be surrounding her, she decided to press her luck with this poor man. It took a moment for her to recall the words she wanted to ask about, but eventually she remembered. She pronounced them gingerly, hoping for understanding. She knew it was a monastery, but she needed to know why it was so important.

  “Sed Naya?” She dropped her voice and her eyes as she asked this. The man fell silent, except for his involuntary sniffling. He didn’t respond, but raised a scrawny arm with an outstretched finger. The man was pointing toward the mountains beyond the city. She met his gaze and once again tried to thank him with her eyes while she offered a few words of gratitude. She turned toward where the man pointed and began walking again.