A Lover
~ ~ ~
He looked at me with his large, brown eyes, with a perfect wonderment of his new senses. I smiled and guided him to his feet. He winced and brought his hand to his mouth. I looked and saw that the fangs in his mouth were developing rapidly. I took his hand in my own and nodded in assurance. Don't worry, darling, the pain will depart soon enough. He jumped slightly when I communicated this to him, and looked at me in awe.
"Surprised?" I said to him and chuckled, "Well you can do it too. It's a useful implement in tracking prey. But remember that as you may communicate to them, you can also absorb their thoughts into your own mind. Be wary of your thoughts, for the others of the vampyre kind may try to use this against you." His eyes widened when I said the word "vampyre," and I nodded at him. "It is what you are now. You will never grow old and you will never die. But all of the technicalities I shall explain to you when we reach home. First, we must attend to a few things."
I had him show me back to his home, where we awakened his parents. He introduced me as his fiancee, and that the two of us would depart in a few days to make a home in Louisianna. We were to be wed there, and we would send for them when we had built a sufficient home. His father seemed skeptical at all of this, but his mother, a naive sentimentalist, merely threw her arms around the both of us and wept in joy. It was the last time that we were to see them.
The night after, we left for Louisianna. I taught him all that I had learned from Chancus, and the things I had learned on my own, defying so many of the myths. I showed him that crosses had no effect on us, for I even frequented the Catholic churches to pray. I also showed him that the other mythical weaknesses were no more than wives' tales, but for the one of the sunlight.
"You needn't sleep in a coffin, but you must be well hidden from the light of day. It will destroy your immortal blood," I told him. I also explained some of the powers that were myths as well. I explained to him that we could not fly, but jump very high to make it seem as such, and run at speeds that would make the illusion. I also told him that we could not become smoke and move through keyholes, or any other such nonsense. He hung intently on my every word, the look of complete adoration hanging in his eyes, making me blush when I saw it on occasion. But in all of this, I never mentioned Chancus to him. I was never sure if it was that I feared the pain of memory or if he would want to hunt down The Abbey himself for their causing my pain, a task I had well given up after creating him. At any rate, though, I never spoke of him. Soon, though, I knew that he had sensed my memories of my maestro. It was not long after that he asked me.
"Darling, may I ask you something?" he asked me one day as we were sitting in our parlor.
"Anything you wish."
"Would you tell me of the one who made you?"
I took a few moments to let the question set in. I had been waiting for it, but I don't know that it could have ever been easy to answer. Finally, I took a breath and begin to tell him of the night I met Chancus, and our years together. He watched me as I told the story, but I never looked up from my hands which I had clasped in my lap. When I got to the night where I had come home to discover him, I felt the bloody tears in my eyes. Jean stood and walked to my side. He took my hand and sat next to me. I finished my story, keeping my tears in my eyes until they disappeared. We sat in silence for a few moments. Finally I stood, mumbled to him about getting out yet tonight to satisfy my thirst, and led him out the door. We never spoke of Chancus again.
It was one evening that I had gone out to kill on my own that I felt once again the overwhelming presence of The Abbey's members. The closer I came to my front steps, the stronger it seemed to feel, but I shook my head and dismissed it. I had nothing against them, they had no reason to still be watching me. But I was still uneasy when I opened the door. The unease grew to dread as I moved through the hallways, and the dread to sheer terror. My home had been completely ransacked, my lover taken, and another one of the phoenix notes left on the floor. I picked it up, tore it open, and read it.
Vengeance must be lived, ma chere
From us you cannot hide
558 Rue du Fainne
-The Abbey
A primal rage grew within me. I turned and ran out the door and down the street. Finally, I caught the all-too familiar scent of The Abbey's members. It led me to a deserted flat far from my own home. I burst through the rotting doors. Suddenly, I heasrd Jean's cries within my own mind. I ran towards them, to find him bound by chains to a gilded chair in the center of a vine-covered room. The ceiling had been destroyed by age, and I could see the sky beginning to turn purple as the sun rose. I ran to him and tore the chains easily from him, but as I was doing so, I fely hands on my own shoulders. Before I could fight back, I felt a weighty thud to the back of my head. My world went black.
I fought back into consciousness but a few moments later to find myself being dragged down a hall by two large mortal men in masks. I kicked myself away from them and began to run back towards where I felt Jean being held, but they followed me and recaptured me. I kicked away again, but this time I stayed to fight. One of them lunged at me, but I vaulted him over me with my legs with an amazing force. I could hear his spine shatter as he hit the cement floor. The next one I didn't wait for to attack. I jumped to my feet and lunged at him, catching him in an iron grip and sinking my fangs into his thick neck. He flailed and fell, and I drained him. I then stood and ran back to the room where my lover had been held. I was, however, too late. I flung open the doors and saw the corpse there, burnt to a cinder beyond any recognition. At this point, I was beyond tears. I walked coldly to the corpse in the chair and touched it. It crumbled beneath my touch. The Abbey had gone too far. They had taken my mentor and now my lover. They had to pay for my pain.
I walked out of the house without any trouble. In a matter of seconds, I had run back to my home and found a kerosene lamp, which I carried back. The sun was peeking over the hills, but my task could not wait. I hurled the lamp at the doorstep of the house and it burst into flames. The flames crackled and rose. They consumed the tattered curtains that still hung in the windows and the vines that stretched up the house. I heard the cried of the mortals within. Nothing could have been sweeter music. I watched it burn for a while, until I felt the sun's rays beginning to touch my skin. It was then that I turned and ran for home.
When I arrived back at my flat, I immediately went to the bedroom that Jean and I had shared. I could still feel his presence, as if he were still alive. After pulling the drapes over the large French windows, I lay down on the bed. My soul cried for him, though my body could not. My one beloved. Gone from me. I didn't know what to do.
Since then, every night has been the same. I leave my home every evening. I take a life. If I'm lucky, it is a criminal, and the blood is sweeter than wine. But every night, as soon as I have finished the bloody ritual, I return to the ashes of the building I burned, whether by my detachment or physically. I spit upon the ashes and vow that for the pain that The Abbey had caused me, I would reap a thousand revenges.
It is their black blood that I seek now.
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