Royal Blood

by Kolina Topel

  “Who are you?” I whispered.

  “It is time,” is all the booming male voice said.

  “Time for what?” I yelled frantically.

  Then, in a barely audible voice that sounded more like ringing bells than that of a child, she shrieked, “You must save us! You must come back!” and then bright red blood flowed from her eyes and she collapsed.

  * * *

  A loud ringing in my ears awoke me, and at first I didn’t realize it was me screaming. Again tears were flowed from my face. I was terrified.

  Two

  My head was pounding when my breath caught.

  “Ugh, another headache,” I complained. I’d had them as long as I could remember.

  I rolled over and closed my eyes, not daring to sleep again and stayed there the rest of the day. I didn’t know what else to do. My headaches were an unstoppable force of nature—the kind where you get the blurred vision and see spots and everything. An aura, I think they call it. I have been on every medication known to man and nothing helps. Just sleep and darkness.

  I was startled when I woke to a dim light shining through my window. It was morning again. I sighed, relieved to have survived a night free of my nightmare.

  * * *

  Meeting Mom was uneventful, aside from the way her eyes studied my ever-bland appearance and my lack of a jacket, but the cold never really seemed to bother me as much as it did her.

  See, while I was perfectly content with my average and typical blue-jean and a tank-top kind of appearance, accented by my boring but beautiful long hair, my mother was the exact opposite.

  She has wild, but beautiful curly dark brown hair and stunning chocolate eyes, while mine are a light, almost fluorescent, blue. She has very tan skin and curves in all the right places, while I am much skinnier. She is also always dressed for a runway, a trait I obviously got passed by on the DNA train. All in all, I look nothing like her. She always tells me I look like my father, whom of course I have never met. I had never even seen a picture of him.

  We talked about Alex and Michael, my stepfather, and she held me a little too long when we parted. I guess she sensed I wasn’t quite myself a little bit better than I wanted her to.

  I went home in fear of what the night would bring, but I awoke again Monday morning from a restful night. I was hopeful I had put the girl behind me for good.

  I was anxious to get back to the bank that morning. I rushed through my morning shower, didn’t even blow-dry my hair, had a quick bowl of cereal, and darted out the door as fast as possible. The whole way, I silently prayed I had dreamt the bank error. I pulled up to the ATM and my hands were shaking. I put my card in. Please, please, please….

  “NO!” I shouted. Not possible, not possible. The amount wasn’t the same. Not even close. It was now $1,674,389! It was more. A lot more…

  I pulled around to the front of the bank and idled for a while. How could it be more? Who was doing this to me? When I finally calmed, I opened the door and walked slowly into the bank. As I walked, I don’t know why, but I got angry. It wasn’t a normal emotion for me. I’m not a happy-go-lucky type of person, but I don’t let my emotions rule me either.

  With each step, I was more infuriated than the last. I walked to the rear of the line and waited. And waited. I was growing impatient. Finally, I was at the front of the line and Emily, in her always bubbly and happy personality, greeted me in the same manner she always had.

  “Good morning, Christina. What can I do for you today, honey?”

  “Um, well, I have some questions about recent deposits to my account,” I stated.

  “Okay. No problem.”

  While she fumbled with the keys, she made small talk about the weather. I hardly noticed. I was concentrating on not letting the vein that was pulsing in time with my heartbeat pop out of my forehead. The look on her face brought sweat to my forehead and neck, and I dug my fingernails into my hands and bit my lip.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed, “I see!” She glanced at me and back to the screen and back to me again. “What was your question, Christina?”

  What was my question?! Was she kidding me?!

  “Why are there one and a half million dollars in deposits in my account?” I asked bluntly.

  “I don’t know.” She looked as confused as I felt.

  “Well, where in the hell did it come from?” I almost shouted.

  I saw the fear in her eyes, and I put my head down in retreat and took a breath. Why was I so angry? It was too much, all too much.

  “It’s three separate deposits from a numbered account. This type of account is untraceable. It’s a foreign account.”

  “Of course,” I snorted.

  “Wait a minute. There is an address here in the note section of your account and instructions to give it to you before you access the deposits.” She looked at me bewildered. “I have never seen anything like this before…” she trailed off.

  “Well…”

  She started jotting down the address and then handed me the paper. Then I turned to walk.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you, Christina?” she asked.

  “Actually, yes,” I turned back. “I’d like to make a withdrawal.”

  Whoever made this mistake wouldn’t notice if I took out one hundred dollars, would they? And I would go to this address and return the money right back to whomever it belonged.

  I winced as she counted out the bills, “Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, one hundred. Will there be anything else?”

  “No,” and I turned to leave. I started the car, looked at the paper, and wondered about what would be waiting for me in Ohio.

  I put the address into the GPS Alex gave me last Christmas and stopped to fill up with gas. Alex always liked to buy me expensive toys I couldn’t afford myself. Even though I hated to, I always accepted with as much grace as I could muster. Iwould thank him until he would have to hush me with a kiss and I would succumb. The thought made me smile, and though I missed him terribly, I was glad he wasn’t here to stop me from my new, probably crazy, journey.

  The drive was long and slow. I had nothing to do of course but think about the weekend’s disturbing events. I tried turning on the radio and blaring some music. It helped for a while, but eventually my thoughts drifted anyway. Who had put the money in my account? Would they be waiting for me when I got there? What could they possibly want with me? I didn’t know, but I had to find out.

  The drive took me the rest of the morning, and when I got there, I was sure I had the wrong address. I drove around the block looking for the right building. As I drove, it became obvious this place took up the whole block. When I got back to the front, I parked and stepped out to face whatever was there waiting for me, but I couldn’t figure out why this address had led me to a church. I stopped cold in my tracks when I read the name on the sign. St. Christina Marie Church.

  Three

  The outside of the church was stunning. It was made up of an orange-colored brick and had at least a dozen of the long stained glass windows within view, maybe two dozen. It looked like it was ancient. There were also several other buildings surrounding this one that were quite a bit smaller.

  It was even more beautiful inside. There were over half a dozen pillars holding the enormously high ceilings. To the right was the tabernacle. Two angel sculptures holding censor were standing on either side of it. The cross above it sparkled like gold.

  As I walked past the rows and rows of pews, I stared amazed at the some of the sculptures I recognized—The Sacred Heart of Jesus, St. John the Baptist, St. Joseph, and St. Peter. There were a number of them, and they were more beautiful than I had ever seen before. It was almost as if they weren’t pieces of art, but the real people sitting in my very presence.

  The stained glass held pictures of Mary and Jesus, The Holy Spirit, The Anchor, The Eye of the Eternal God, The Immaculate Heart of Mary, and many others, all so beautifully displayed. I was quite stunned that such a beautiful church cou
ld be unattended.

  When I approached The High Alter, it took my breath away. Literally. It was so intricately detailed. It was painted the purest white even after all these years. In the center were Madonna and Child, and surrounding them on either side were the Holy Angels.

  It was so very confusing. How could this church possibly have anything to do with me?

  “Princess Christina!” I heard a male’s voice exclaim.

  I whirled and saw a man running toward me. He was wearing a black robe, one just like the girl from my dream. I froze. I screamed at my legs to move, but they wouldn’t comply.

  “Princess, how did you find us?”

  He stopped a few feet in front of me and gasped, “You look just like your father….”

  “My what?” My father had left my mother when I was a baby. I never even saw a picture of him while I was growing up. My mother had always told me I looked like him, though. I had to. I looked nothing like her.

  “Why are you here?” the man asked in a suddenly deep and cross voice.

  “I… I don’t really know,” I stammered.

  What could I say to that? Did he know who I was? He called me Princess Christina.

  “Get out. You must go now. Do not come back. You are unwelcome here.”

  “But I—”

  “Now!”

  I turned and ran as fast as my legs would carry me. I didn’t dare to even look back as I drove away, afraid of seeing the same man who clearly didn’t want me anywhere near what I assumed was his church.

  I stopped the car when my tears spilled over and blinded me. It was dark outside now. I lay my head back and closed my eyes, trying to make some sense of what the day had brought besides another headache.

  Before long, I was back in the church, in the same spot where the man had approached me. I looked around, but the man was nowhere to be seen. I stayed still, waiting for him to reappear and kick me out again, but he never came. Hesitantly, I drifted down the western hall and was baffled by the beauty and majesty of the paintings and sculptures that lined the wide and very tall corridors.

  Suddenly, I stopped abruptly. There was a very short hall to the right and at the end was a picture of a man. This man had the very same piercing blue eyes as I did. The same shape even. The corners of his mouth turned up in just the same way as mine. He even had the same color of hair. Was this man my… my….

  “Christina,” an all too familiar voice crooned.

  I whirled around from the mysterious man in the painting and there she was again. We locked eyes and she held me there in her gaze for a moment before her face turned morbid. She looked like death.

  “You must save us. You must!” There was panic in her voice.

  “Who? Save who?” I cried.

  Her eyes leaked the bright red blood again and her tiny body crumpled to the floor.

  * * *

  “No!” I jerked up in my seat. The sun was creeping over the distant horizon, causing a mild burning sensation in my eyes. It had done that as long as I could remember. Morning? I’d slept till morning. This was becoming an annoying habit. I could not see again. Tears. I cleared my eyes. It was 7:30 a.m.

  “Crap,” I moaned. I was supposed to be at work at 8 o’clock. No biggie. I decided to just call and tell them I wouldn’t be in. I had never taken a sick day, so they shouldn’t mind. I dug in my pockets for my phone. Not there.

  “Where is my damn phone?” I asked no one. “Ugh, it’s at home. Where I left it. Of course,” I answered myself. Those dreams were making me crazy.

  Would Alex have called me? Mom? I had to clear my head. I didn’t get any of the answers I needed yesterday. Just more questions.

  He called me Princess Christina. He talked about my father. The man in the picture… he had to be. What had my mother kept from me? What did she know? She would have told me, wouldn’t she?

  I would just go back. I’d make them tell me. If my father was there, he would want to see me…wouldn’t he? I turned the key and headed back to the church.

  * * *

  When I arrived, I studied the outside to make certain there was no one there waiting to kick me out again. I walked inside again and called out, “Hello? Is anyone here? Hello?” No answer.

  I walked down countless hallways calling out for a reply, but there was nothing. One turn brought me down a hall I was sure I recognized, and I slowed, fearing to see with my own eyes what my dream had shown me.

  I turned the corner, and there he was again—an almost mirror image of myself in front of my eyes. The face seemed to be laughing at me. Taunting me. I turned and walked straight out of the church. It was empty. Whoever was there before clearly didn’t want me to know the answers to my questions. The question was, did I?

  When I finally pulled into my spot at home, the sun had settled behind the shadows of trees and hills to the west. I racked my brain all the way home, but I knew I couldn’t find my own answers. I would call Mom and make her tell me what she knew about my father. It was a subject I usually tried to avoid. For some reason, mentioning my father always upset her.

  As I walked to my door, I heard a low murmur in my apartment. Panic shot through me as I put my key in the lock. Someone was here waiting for me, but who?

  Before I could even turn the key, the door flew open and a pair of strong arms pulled me inside of the house. I tried to scream, but somewhere between my lungs and throat it got lodged. I snapped my eyes shut, terrified to see the fate that awaited me there. An instinct I guess.

  “Chris,” a familiar voice exhaled, “you’re okay.”

  I knew immediately the arms that embraced me belonged to Alex. His familiar scent washed through my body, cleansing me of all of my fears.

  “Alex, what are you doing here?”

  He pulled back and stared into my face.

  “Your mother called me yesterday and told me she couldn’t get a hold of you. Then when you didn’t show up for work today, they called her, so I flew home on the first flight out. Where have you been? Your mother and I have been worried sick.”

  “I’m so sorry. I went for a drive and left my phone at home. I was going to call.”

  “A drive? Where did you go that took two days?”

  I freed myself from his arms and sat down on the couch. I didn’t want to explain, not yet. I needed to talk to my mother first.

  “I need to call Mom. She is probably freaking out.”

  He nodded and sat beside me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He kissed my hair and murmured, “Don’t you ever do that to me again. You have no idea what I thought. I couldn’t bear losing you.”

  Mom answered on the first ring, “Alex! Is she back?” her voice sounded even more frantic than I had anticipated.

  “It’s me, Mom.”

  “Chris! Oh thank goodness you’re home. Mike, she is back. Call and tell everyone.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Yes, we have had all of our friends out looking for you.”

  “Awww, Mom…” I whined.

  “Don’t start with me young lady. Where have you been? We have been going crazy! How could you just disappear and not tell me? This isn’t like you. Are you in trouble?”

  “Calm down, Mom. I’m fine. But you have some questions to answer for me.”

  “What?” she asked. “Questions? What questions?”

  I took a deep breath. I didn’t ask about my father anymore. I hadn’t for years. I could see the pain in her face when I brought it up. He didn’t just leave me, he left her, too.

  “Who is my father?”

  Alex leaned back to stare at me. He knew the subject was hard for me. His face went blank and he looked away to the TV. He tried to straighten out his face, but he looked upset.

  “Your…. father?”

  “Yes, Mom. My father.”

  “I don’t really wanna get into that right now—”

  “Of course not, Mom! You never want to get into that! You don’t care about what I want! It’s always about y
ou! It doesn’t matter that I am twenty-two years old and don’t even know my father’s name!” I was yelling and sobbing at the same time.