Second Life

by Emily Reese

  “You should go, kid. You’ve seen enough tonight — you’re not going to like what comes next.”

  The poor kid nodded slowly and began stumbling back toward the lights and the crowds. Just before he walked into the light, he turned. He looked to me as if he wanted to say something, but his voice wasn’t cooperating.

  I nodded, and returned my attention to a recovering Creepy Guy. He began to struggle and pull at my arms around his neck.

  “What… the… hell… are you?” he managed to gasp.

  “I used to be just like that boy, with some dickhead just like you making my life a living hell. I survived. Then I killed him. What do you think that means for you?”

  As the reality of his situation dawned on him, he stopped struggling and went limp. A sharp tang in the air told me he'd wet himself. I could feel the fear in him. Pathetic. I refused to feel pity for this loser, but if I kept dragging this out, that’s exactly what would happen. What had just transpired felt more than a little like when I killed Collin. Part of me wanted to make them suffer — suffer until the gaping, wounded part of my soul was filled with delectable retribution. The other part of me knew it was a bad idea. That was all that separated me from sadistic vampires like Collin and Regulus. They left all of their humanity behind years ago and acted without empathy. I would not be like that.

  I struck quickly, not sparing him the pain of my bite, but not making it any worse than it needed to be. As I drank, I was disgusted by what I experienced through his blood. If your life flashes before your eyes as you die, it flashes before mine too. This was anything but a pleasant experience. I had a hard time finding anything redeemable in this human’s life. His blood tasted slightly rancid and I wondered if this was a reflection on his deeds. My only consolation was that once he died, his past and his taste died with him. I wouldn’t carry him with me as I did Ben, Mike, and others I had fed from; they all lived.

  Draining him, much like the decision to actually kill a human, took less time than I thought; it was over in a matter of minutes. I knew when he died because the flashes of life suddenly, blessedly, went dark. I continued drinking. It had been a long time since I had a live victim, and there was something to be said for feeding from the source.

  “I’d leave some in there if I were you,” a soft voice said from somewhere behind me.

  I dropped the body and spun around, crouched and ready for combat. I killed as an outsider in Emma’s territory, without introduction or even considering the consequences. I am an idiot and I am in trouble.

  The vampire I faced was a small man with skin the color of caramel — pretty impressive given our tendency towards paleness. He had curly black hair that reminded me of Mike's unruly locks, but the hint of a smile Mike always wore was nowhere to be found on this guy’s face. Still, he made no move to attack me, so maybe, just maybe I could get out of this with a warning.

  “I owe your Elder an apology. I killed in her territory without introduction or permission.” The vampire nodded, so I continued, “My name is Claire, my Elder is —,”

  “We know who you are, and that you belong to Khale. It is for this reason Emma asked me to watch you, rather than kill you for encroaching on our territory.”

  “I see. Well…” What am I supposed to say here? “Thanks for that.” The threat dissipating, I rose from my defensive stance and tucked my hands into my pockets.

  “However, killing is another matter.” He was next to me before I could blink. Looking me over quickly but thoroughly, I felt like a package he was preparing to sign for.

  “I know, but this guy was… he was awful.”

  “So are many of the humans in our territory, and yours. Would you have us kill them all?”

  He cocked an eyebrow at me, a teacher questioning an unruly pupil. A teacher with every right to end my Second Life. I considered carefully before answering him.

  “No, of course not. I was planning to feed quietly and return home. As I was searching for a suitable human, I picked up on this one. He was hunting as well. He was a killer, with many victims and no intention of ever stopping. He found a boy about the same time I found him… I… I couldn’t just let that happen.” All in all, a decent argument, though my ending felt a little weak; not all of my kind felt the need to protect random humans.

  The vampire considered me for a moment longer, then kicked Creepy Guy over with his shoe so he was face up. Squatting down, he examined the corpse’s face closely, then picked up his hands one by one, turning them over. After a careful inspection, he stood and extending his palm out to me.

  “Your hand,” it was a command, not a question. With some trepidation, I put my hand into his. He began raising it to his mouth, his black eyes never leaving mine. “This will only hurt a little, but it is necessary.”

  “O-kay.” He took my index finger and kissed the tip, looking at me all the while. It was more than a bit unsettling. I opened my mouth to ask him why this was so necessary, when a sting shot through my finger and I gasped. “You bit me!”

  He gave me no answer. I tried to pull my hand back, but his grip was like iron with only the slightest bit of an irritating tingle. Oblivious to my protestations, he kissed my fingertip again and sucked on it, drawing the blood out. As soon as he swallowed, he released my hand and closed his eyes, as if he were tasting wine. I jerked my hand back and pushed the urge to punch him toward the back of my brain. You are a guest here. You are a guest here.

  “What the hell? Explain to me how biting me was necessary?” You could at least have told me your name, buy me dinner, something.

  He didn’t answer right away, his eyelids beginning to flutter. Just as I was about to make a run for it, (because, honestly, things were getting way too weird; I yearned for the quiet of my boat,) his eyes popped open and he answered.

  “It seems you were correct. This human has been killing for quite some time and is wanted by the local police.” He bent down and picked up the knife Creepy dropped in our struggle. With a quick motion, he slashed the corpse’s throat.

  “Hopefully you left enough blood in him to convince police. It should do.” He looked down at his watch as if the last few surreal minutes were every day for him. “This kill was not sanctioned, but given that you have aided our human population… you get a pass.” His eyes sparkled as he pronounced his judgment.

  “Right. So… I can go then?” Curiosity burned in me, wanting to know how he divined all that from biting my finger. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be healthier for me to leave… now.

  “Yes,” he replied, causing me to relax. “And no, I’m afraid.”

  “Of course not…” I muttered. Why did I come ashore? I should’ve just gone home.

  “Please, there is no reason to be alarmed. You are a welcome guest in our territory and no harm will come to you.”

  I knew he was trying to reassure me, but I couldn’t help but snort. “That hasn’t been my experience.”

  “It will be here,” he replied stiffly. “You are free to roam our city or return to your vessel as you see fit. However, we must insist that you do not leave our waters this evening."”

  “Why?” I swallowed back the fear creeping up my chest, still unsure if it was warranted.

  “For one, your Elder has been unable to reach you, and requested we put you in contact with him should we locate you.” Uh-oh. That can’t be good.

  “And the other reason?”

  “You’re a very popular woman, Ms. Wallace. A representative from the Council has also requested a meeting with you.”

  “The who from the what now?”

  “I expect he can explain it better than I can, though I am surprised you haven’t been told already.” The vampire before me picked at his nail, now more interesting than me with endless questions and the quickly cooling body between us. “You know, it’s the strangest thing…” he added, “The man has impeccable timing. He arrived only an hour before you did. What
do you make of that, Ms. Wallace?”

  Whatever answer he was looking for, I didn’t have. I could only shrug lamely and add, “Hell if I know. Freak coincidence?”

  “Perhaps. Now if I were you, I’d leave this area sooner rather than later. The young man you rescued has just alerted the police and they are about a block away.” He turned as if to leave, the glanced back at me with a wicked grin. “Unless you’re still thirsty? It’s been quite a while since I hunted with someone new.” The look he gave me was both seductive and terrifying. I was more than glad I’d gotten that “pass.”

  “Um, no thank you. This guy was more than enough.”

  “As you wish. Someone will be by the docks before dawn with the Council’s man and your things.” Before his last words were formed he had blinked out of existence.

  I stood there stunned as the sounds of the world slowly came back to me. I'd had a few weird experiences in my Second Life, but this would rank pretty high on that list.

  Why would someone bring my things? All my stuff is already on the boat.

  I felt the humans coming before I heard them; two skeptical men and the kid I rescued, hysterical but alive. It was time to head back to the docks.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Despite his practicing at every free moment, another rough session left Mike once again panting on the mats. Screwing up his courage he voiced something that had been nagging him for weeks.

  “Who are you?” he asked Ben between breaths.

  “Either you hit your head too hard, or you’re asking me about who I was.” Mike nodded at the second option, too beat to carry on a long conversation. “I see. Well, I suppose we’ve done enough work for the day.” He walked over and sat a few feet from where Mike was and made himself comfortable. “What do you want to know?”

  “Start with where you’re from.”

  “I am from a part of the UK called Yorkshire. As I’ve said I was born somewhere around the late 10th, early 11th century. My father was an artisan. My mother helped him with his shop; they sold weapons, mostly bows and their trappings. I can’t even remember their names anymore.” Ben was quiet for a moment, lost in his reminisces.

  “I had three brothers though, and I remember them better: Nicolas, John, and Thomas. I was the youngest and I idolized them. To their credit, they accepted it graciously and looked after me when they could’ve made my life hell.” A small smile played across his lips. “We certainly did to my mother. I was devastated when they died.”

  “Your brothers?”

  “All of them, my parents too, though not all at the same time. People died easier back then.”

  “I’m sorry.” Mike knew what it was like to lose one’s entire family.

  “It was so long ago. I’m not the same man I was then.”

  “What happened?”

  “It started when my father left. The Crusades were everywhere then, and our lord decided to answer the call. He took anyone who could make weapons or armor, and most of the boys old enough to hold a pike with him. This included my father. He was supposed to be paid a salary to be given to my mother, but we never saw any of it. Eventually we learned that he died somewhere over in the Holy Land, I don’t remember where.

  “After that, my mother stopped eating. She was gone in a month, so that left us boys to fend for ourselves. We took everything that hadn’t been sold from the house and shop and went to live in the woods. You don’t have to pay taxes on trees, and we could barely feed ourselves.”

  “A bunch of boys out in the woods with bows, avoiding the tax collector? Sounds like Robin Hood.”

  “Funny you mention that…”

  Mike sat straight up in shock. “You’re not serious? You’re telling me that you’re…”

  “I’m not saying I’m The Robin Hood. There were a bunch of us. Names worked differently back then, Michael. Outlaws, which was what we were since we didn’t pay taxes, were often called hoods. Or hood was sometimes slang for the woods, which is where we lived. Either way, it worked.”

  “What about Robin?”

  “There were many versions of Robert back then, which was my Christian name. One of them was Robin. I’ve shortened it since he became a comic book side kick.”

  “I can’t even wrap my head around that.” Mike wondered when all of this would someday seem normal to him. When would he be part of a legend?

  “It’s not that big of a deal,” Ben told him with a shrug. “There were already a few other groups in the woods, some of them with Robins or Roberts. All my brothers and I did were perpetuate the mythos behind the name. It brought us a certain amount of respect from those we robbed, and earned us aid with the small folk. It helped that one of my brothers was named John.” He grinned as if he was still enjoying the joke, close to a millennium later.

  “Wow, man. So how did you meet up with Khale?”

  “When our lord was killed in battle, many of his men returned home. They were sick of war, and who could blame them? One of the lesser knights brought back a Moor, in an effort to increase his status; they all had an eye on the lord’s seat now that he was gone. My brothers and I happened to, shall we say, “call” on this knight as he rode through our stretch of woods. He was quite taken with himself and thought he could take all of us at the same time. It didn’t work out the way he hoped.”

  “And Khale?”

  “The knight didn’t even know what he was. That in itself is amazing, considering what Khale had to work with back then. You should ask him to tell you how he pulled it off all those years ago.”

  “He didn’t help the knight fight you?”

  “No. The knight hadn’t been unbearably cruel to him on their journey, but neither were they friends; it seemed as if Khale was over having a master. At least that’s what I gathered.” Ben stood up and beckoned Mike to follow him. “Let’s get a drink. All this talk is making me thirsty.” Mike followed and soon they were seated comfortably in armchairs in the large common room of the underground complex, mugs in hand.

  “So where were we? Oh, we killed Khale’s knight. Yes, so he was dead and looted, but none of us knew what to do with a Moor. We told him to be on his way and thought that was the end of it. Khale had other plans. He took me and changed me the next night.”

  “Why?”

  “It was hard to understand at first. There was definitely some anger there for my first decade or so. From what Khale told me, he wanted to travel the western world, and he needed a companion, and Anglo companion. Such were the times. I was the best candidate.”

  “How so?” Mike continued to prompt, now fully swept up in the story.

  “Two of my brothers were sick, some kind of consumption. They were even keeping it from each other, which was quite a feat considering how much time we spent together. The third, John, had a girl in town that he had gotten pregnant, so that left me.”

  “Is consumption bad?”

  “Then it was more often than not fatal, and not a pretty way to go. I am thankful they were spared that at least.” Ben took a sip of his drink and sat in quiet contemplation.

  “They got better?” Mike asked hopefully.

  “No. I killed them.”

  Mike was speechless for so long, a normal person would’ve asked him if he was having trouble breathing. Then again, Ben was not a normal person, as evidenced by his last sentence. Eventually, tired of waiting for Mike to shake off the shock, Ben continued his narrative.

  “The first night I woke as a vampire, Khale did everything to impress upon me my new condition. It was very hard to accept, especially considering the prevalence of the church back then. I believed that I’d be damned forever, unless I could starve myself to death. It seemed penance enough for something I had no control over, and I wouldn’t kill anyone else. Khale tried to convince me otherwise, to explain to me what would happen if I waited too long, but in the end… I was — am — a stubborn man.”

  “What happened?” Mike’s question ca
me out in a whisper.

  “One night I awoke with a pain I could not bear. I was so thirsty; it was all I could think of. I went after the first humans I could smell.”

  “Your brothers.”

  “I had stayed near them in an effort to remind myself of my humanity.”

  The disconnect between Ben’s words and their meaning sent chills down Mike’s spine. Ben was a monster. He’d killed his family; yet Claire and the others, even Mike himself saw some good in him. His head swam while Ben continued.

  “With Nicolas and Thomas coughing up blood, they never stood a chance. John tried to help them, but it was no use. When my thirst was finally sated, I looked around to see what I had done and was horrified. More than that, really. I was near inconsolable for the better part of ten years.”

  “So, what did you do? Why did you… why are you…”

  “Why am I still here? Because of Khale. He found me in those woods, surrounded by the bodies of those I’d loved most in the world. We left at once and began my teaching in earnest. He told me his own story, and the history of how we came to be. We vampires have gods, you know, and what he told me helped me to understand. I was no longer Robert the artisan’s son, Robert the outlaw. He did not kill his brothers. I was a different being and killing happened. The best we can do is try not to abuse those by which our life is sustained. Khale had horrors in his past as well, but they made him who he is today. The man he was could not be the vampire he is, the vampire who loves our Lana so tremendously.”

  “Like you love Claire?” The words were out of Mike’s mouth before he could catch them. They earned him a sharp look from Ben and the end of the night’s entertainment.

  “That’s not something I’m willing to discuss with you. I think we’ve shared enough for the evening.” He was at the door in moments, but stopped to look at Mike before leaving. “Remember what I said, Michael. We’re all killers. Sooner or later.” Then he was gone.