“Do you always travel alone?” Kanati stoked the fire, sending sparks into the air.
“Not always, but sometimes it’s better than the alternative.” He lowered his gaze. “All I have are my memories to travel with at the moment.”
“Memories don't make for a very talkative companion, nor do they keep you safe as you sleep in a strange land,” he said with a nervous laugh.
“Oh! I do beg to differ, young man. Memories are the best company a person can have.”
“Surely you jest. Memories are only up here.” Acabo pointed to his head. “They’re only to be learned from, not to keep us company.”
“You don’t really understand their purpose at all, do you? Sometimes memories are the only things that keep people in the struggle. Countless are the souls who live in the days of yesteryear, reliving glories both real and imagined. These poor wretches spend their time in the past, for only one reason…the present is unbearable. There are many things that could have driven them to embrace the self-torture: loss of loved ones, loss of beauty, or any of the numerous failures that are unfortunately, a part of life.”
“Sounds more like a hindrance than a help,” Dustu said with a grunt.
“Whatever the reason or the view they take of their predicament, the result is the same; they become ghosts. Their spirits died when they erected the walls that keep them trapped in the past. They have lost their will to live, and in doing so, they have died. They only await the beating of their hearts to cease. Sad, you might say, and I agree. Well, to certain extent.”
“Are you a ghost then, just wasting the remainder of your days waiting for death to claim you?” Kanati doubted it to be the case.
“I can’t imagine going through life like that,” Dustu said before Niccolo could answer. “We have all seen hard times, but you just have to believe they will end. You must be strong enough to wait for the good ones to come back around or do something to change it.”
“Well said, friend.” Niccolo nodded approvingly. “No, I’m hardly a ghost. My memories make me strong, but I don’t let them rule me.”
A silence fell between them. Acabo had just begun to stoke the fire, when Niccolo suddenly looked at Kanati, his lips slowly rising into a smile.
“Say, would you fine gentlemen be interested in hearing a tale?” He looked at each of them for their answer.
“What kind of a tale?” Acabo spoke up first. “Do you know a scary one?”
“I think a good scare would be most appropriate on a night like tonight.” Dustu gestured toward the mouth of the cave.
“Well, I will do my best to oblige you.” He wiped a broad hand down the length of his face before he began. “Have any of you ever heard of the Nosferatu?”
“The Nosfer what?” Dustu asked, head cocked to the left.
“The Nosferatu…vampires.” He spoke the last word in a long whisper that put the hairs on the back of Kanati’s neck on end.
“Vampires are another one of your creatures of the night,” he began in a voice so low, Kanati had to resist the urge to lean closer to him. “They were human once. Now, they are immortals who sustain themselves with the blood of others. There was a time when vampires feared their own existence. They hated themselves for what they had become. They made their homes in catacombs, mausoleums, or caves nestled deep in the countryside.”
Kanati struggled with his fleeting memories. Blood, which should mean something to him, but why? Why couldn’t he grasp the importance?
“You mean they made their homes among the dead?” Dustu was clearly flabbergasted.
“It’s true. Most felt they were already dead and God was somehow punishing them for some sin or another. They went to sleep before dawn every morning and hoped they wouldn’t wake for the night to come. Others knew they had not truly died, but feared discovery, so they made their homes in caves or underground passages.”
“Hey, maybe one even made its home in this cave!” Acabo gestured at the surrounding walls.
“It is very possible. This cave would have made a fine habitat for yearlings and ancients alike,” Niccolo agreed in earnest.
“Ancients? Have these creatures been around so long they’ve evolved enough to distinguish between themselves?” Kanati perked up in surprise.
“Heavens, yes! There is quite a difference, my friend. The first of the vampires were uncouth and uncontrollable. They fed upon anything that moved. Anything and everything was fair game, from animals to infants, they attacked at random to quench their burning thirst.” He spat on the floor in disgust.
“And the later generations where born with this control?” Dustu asked.
“Not born, but created. The newer generations of vampires take pride in their existence. They interact with humans and fear little. The distinction is plain for any to see. Most of the newer generations despise the old ones for the hardships they had wrought upon their world.”
“It must be heartbreaking to despise your ancestors.” Kanati wondered what a bizarre society that would yield.
“Those wretched creatures— One wonders why they never took the time to enjoy the feed or even the hunt for that matter. The most popular way to hunt in the days of old was to perch in a tree at the edge of a darkened road, waiting patiently for a lone traveler in the night. They then would swoop from the branches, diving straight for the throat. Embracing their victim, they would rise into the air sucking frantically at an artery to drain every last drop of blood from them before releasing the body to land where it may.” Revulsion swept across Niccolo’s face.
“Seems to me, someone would find it odd when bloodless corpses kept appearing by the roadsides every morning,” Acabo said with a snort.
“They weren’t always found.” Niccolo shrugged indifferently. “Sometimes scavengers would dispose of evidence by feeding upon the victims. In other instances, you’re right; the body lay unmolested, until a frightened villager discovered it. Said villager would, in the safety of the sun mind you, flee panic-stricken. He would run as fast as he could, constantly looking over his shoulder in terror. Upon his return to the village, he would undoubtedly tell anyone who would listen; he had witnessed, first hand, the work of the demons of the night.”
He paused again, scratched his chin. “Why could they not have hunted a little more carefully? It was this carelessness that caused the rise of the vampire hunter.”
“Vampire hunter!” Dustu’s eyes grew wide. “Sounds like a dangerous occupation to me.”
“Yes, for all concerned.” Niccolo sighed heavily. “These hunters would search relentlessly for the undead.”
He rose to remove his cloak, folded it neatly on the ground, and knelt on it, resting back on his haunches.
“They grew wiser with each failure. Many died trying to find a means to destroy the immortals. It was a learning experience for everyone. In the beginning, the vampires thought themselves nearly indestructible. Sunlight was thought by all to be the only fatal weakness they possessed. Bullets, swords, drowning, not even the noose had any long-term effects on the children of the night.”
“It sounds like they were indestructible. Unless someone could find a way to yield the sun as a weapon, that is,” Kanati added in awe of such power.
“In the end, it was proven only three things could end the life of a vampire: First, as I mentioned before, is the sun. Second, would be decapitation, but only if the head and body remained far from each other. The third and final means to a vampire’s end is the destruction of his heart.” Niccolo placed a hand over his chest for emphasis.
“Thank the Gods they found a way to kill these demons.” Dustu rubbed his arms as if fending off the cold.
“Oh, come now Dustu, don't you think immortality would be a truly wonderful gift?” Niccolo watched the old man intently, his lips curled into a half-grin without exposing his teeth.
“Who would want to spend eternity as a monster hiding from the sun? The thought of such a life turns my stomach.”
“W
hat do you think, Acabo? The thought of immortality disgust you as well?” Niccolo shifted his gaze to him, one eyebrow arched.
“At the cost my humanity? Yes. Monster or not, I prefer basking in the sun on a hot summer day to lying with corpses, hidden away in some stench-filled catacomb.”
“And your answer, Kanati?” Niccolo’s face was void of expression.
“I think an existence led by the glow of the moon would be an acceptable price for eternal life. Many people will face death at any day, knowing full well they made their lives from the blood of others, if not literally then in theory none the less,” Kanati replied after much thought.
Niccolo’s face lit up. “Good, then you’ve made your decision.”
In a blur of speed, Kanati’s mortal eyes could not follow, Niccolo reached out and grabbed Dustu and Acabo before any of them knew what happened. Kanati tumbled backwards, panicked. He smacked their heads together and dropped them to the floor. With the same speed that had taken the lives of his friends, Niccolo had his throat held tight between his fingers, his feet dangling inches above the floor of the cave.
He walked Kanati to the back of the cave, well away from the fallen bodies of Dustu and Acabo. Kanati struggled in vain to free himself from Niccolo’s grasp.
“Kanati, you do realize if I were going to kill you, you would already be dead, don’t you?”
This can’t be happening!
“This conversation would be a lot easier if you would just calm down.” He lowered him gently to the floor of the cave and waited patiently for him to comply.
“Why did you kill them?” Kanati’s mind reeled with disbelief.
“Kill them?” he answered with a snort. “I’ve only rendered them unconscious.”
“But why?”
“They made it quite clear they had no desire for eternal life and I couldn’t very well kill them. They are your friends after all,” he replied sincerely.
“Aren’t you afraid they will tell someone?”
“No,” he shook his head. “It is within my power to wipe away the small amount of their memories I would occupy.”
“Why me?”
“I’ve been watching you for years. You have a hunger I haven’t seen in another human for what seems like an eternity.”
“Then it was no accident that we came to be here with you tonight.” Kanati glared at him.
“Surely it isn’t a bad thing to have a guardian angel looking over your shoulder, someone to help you through situations you have no hoping of surviving on your own. Someone to help guide your thoughts to ensure that you can make an informed decision.”
Suddenly the fog lifted and Kanati grasped every stray thought that had eluded him since the stranger’s appearance.
“It was you!” Kanati’s eyes went wide. “That night they took Selu and the night I left the boarding school, it was you who killed—”
“How else were you going to get away from them?”
“But, my friends—you could have let them live.” Kanati seethed. The demon before him was responsible for the deaths of so many people in his life.
It took all of the control he could muster not to attack the fiend. The way he killed his friends without hesitation, made the blood burn in Kanati’s veins. Every inch of his being screamed out for vengeance. His hand twitched near the handle of his knife. Can I slit the monster’s throat before he snaps my neck too?
Niccolo trapped him with his gaze. “I didn’t kill your friends, only the bastards who mistreated you all got there just deserts that night. No, I sent the other boys off to find their families.”
Niccolo continued to speak in a calm, almost comforting voice. The meaning of the words was lost before it could register in his mind. It didn't really matter; it was not the words but the sound of his voice that made its way into his mind; soothed his anger. A strange sense of tranquility spread throughout his body.
“Now what am I to become?”
“A higher being,” he replied with a smile.
“So, if you are to change me into one of your own, I will be forced to spend eternity feeding upon infants and animals?” The mere thought of it disgusted him.
“Hardly! I have rarely tasted the blood of an animal and most certainly never dined on an infant,” he replied with a dismissive gesture.
“But I will have to feed on human blood; someone will have to lose their life for me to maintain my own.” Kanati tried not to choke on his own words.
“Do you remember when I told you about ghosts?”
“Yes, the poor souls that—.” Kanati’s eyes lit up. He allowed a smile to creep onto his face.
“Ghosts are the perfect candidates to become meat for the beast; they are the delicacies of immortals. They come all too willingly into our embrace. It is with clear conscience that I ease their suffering. Some even enjoy it, not realizing their destiny is being fulfilled as all but the last of their life-blood flows through my veins.” Niccolo clenched his fist and they watched the veins rise in his forearms.
“If you only feed upon those who wish to die, then why are you still hunted?” He doubted all vampires fed this way.
“As I have said before.” He let out a slow breath. “My kind didn’t always seek out ghosts for their nourishment.”
“Nor do they now. I can see it in your eyes,” Kanati added. “Now, if I choose to become like you, I must feed on those weaker than myself to survive.”
“Don’t get self-righteous on me now, Kanati!” Niccolo’s tone made Kanati flinch. “You said yourself, it is the way among many mortals who will die tomorrow, remember? Besides, it is the way of nature. The weak sustain the strong. It is a fact that will never change, whether you make the transformation or not.”
“And I have no choice but to feed?” Kanati wondered if he could actually go through with becoming a killer like the man who stood before him.
“Yes, you will feed, but the feeding in itself is a beautiful thing. The ghost in essence becomes my lover. For a brief moment in time, they once again know what it is like to be alive. It is my farewell gift to them. They feel pleasure they could not have possibly known under the caress of a mortal.”
“I have no need of another lover. I’m in love with a beautiful young lady who is everything in the world to me. I will stay true to her always.” Thoughts of Selu flooded his mind; the notion of betraying her made him nauseas.
“No…you won’t. It isn’t a matter of fidelity or love. It is merely a means to an end. You are not starting an adulterous relationship with any of these people. You are simply giving them a taste of all consuming pleasure in exchange for the blood you need to survive.” He gripped Kanati’s shoulder.
“They all enter the endless night with a smile then?”
“The heat of passion makes the blood flow with a richness not found when taken in the ways of the earlier vampires. They are lured to a quiet place, indoors if convenient, and then taken hard into my embrace. With a feverish kiss or a well-placed caress, I work them into a frenzy, and at the point when their mind and body can take no more, I gently sink my teeth into an artery.” Niccolo ignored the question.
“I will enjoy the feeding as well?” Kanati wondered if it would seem much different to him from a bowl full of stew.
“As I take their blood into my body, I experience, in chronological order, their entire lives. This is my preferred means of feeding. In this way, I collect the trials and triumphs of each of my meals. These memories are priceless to me. No matter how insignificant the ghosts may appear, each and everyone have had at least one breathtaking moment in the story that is their life.”
“Then they all come willingly.” Kanati knew it could not be the case.
“Unfortunately, not all feedings can be carried off in ignorant bliss.” He looked at the cave floor as if he expected to find a better answer there.
“Why not?”
“From time to time, they realize what I am before I can give them that all important first care
ss. Oh, how they scream. It brings me much sorrow to see them cower before me, begging for mercy. Some make absurd gestures of the cross with their fingers; others lunge against me as if they could overpower me. Alas, fear brings the blood to a boil almost as hot as passion.”
“Then how can you continue to do it, if it brings you such sorrow?” Kanati asked the question with a little too much sarcasm.
“Okay, it’s true. I could let them go, but I have to eat, right?” Niccolo gave him a wink.
Kanati laughed in reply. It seemed queer to him that they could make jokes about so somber a subject as death.
“If fear heightens the thrill of the hunt as much as pleasure, why do you not feed upon the delinquents and evil doers of the world?” Kanati was amazed it wouldn’t be his first choice. “Surely if only the bad people of the world were turning up dead, it would cut down on the reasons for the hunters to pursue your kind.”
Niccolo sat silent for a moment. “Fear is a definite rush both given and received. Sometimes the power that comes from the emotion brings me much satisfaction. There are indeed times we feed upon the would-be demons of society. The ruthless child killers, rapists, and molesters who waltz through the justice system unscathed, they are often targets, not for nourishment, but for the good that is still inherent in most of us.”
“In such an instance, I understand the rush of fear given, but why would you desire to receive fear?” Kanati’s head swam with possibilities.
“I don’t desire fear. Fear comes to all of us, whether it is invited or not. To fear is to know you are alive, or at least, undead.”
“You still haven’t answered my question. Why do you not live off of the blood of the scourge of the earth?” He wondered why Niccolo was avoiding the subject.
“There is no pleasure derived from the blood of these undesirables. In fact, they leave a rather bad taste in my mouth, no pun intended.
“To relive the acts some of these people have committed can drive me into a rage that forces me to shred them to pieces before I’m able to finish the meal. I like to let these scoundrels know well the face of death, before he comes to claim them. Just as my lovers know a pleasure unknown; these rotten souls know a terror that is almost unimaginable.”
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