September 14, 2012 § 3 Comments
THAT BITCH had bitten me during the night. I should have known better.
Some people are afraid to sleep with their windows open, some people are afraid of spiders. Here I was sleeping next to an unconscious, apparently hungry vampire.
Of course she would go and do something like that. It was afterall, a night, and I guess old habits die hard. But this was not the time to find excuses. I had broken a promise I made to myself long ago, never give up to Viktoria. You see, some of you might think (as I thought at the time) that this is, in a sick and twisted way, a relationship builder. As in, it would get me closer to Viktoria, making her more like a friend, and less like an enemy.
But that’s false. Vampires are not dogs. You don’t throw them a bone and everything is warm and fuzzy in happy land, and you’re now friends. No. The moment you become food, you… become food. As in, it’s a step back, not a step forward. You do not evolve from “human” to “friend”. You devolve from human, straight to food. Friend is rarely mentioned.
It was the 24th of January 2006. By the time I had come to my senses, feeling the bite marks with my right index finger I already knew that I couldn’t spend another night with Viktoria and Viktoria alone, but that was another promise that I was making to myself which eventually I was bound to break.
Viktoria didn’t wake. She didn’t even flinch. She was feeling apparently more than welcome and comfortable in my bed and my room. And I couldn’t blame her. Like I was saying in the beginning of the blog, I was always more on the “old things” guy. I loved everything that was old and anything that took your mind back to the era of kings and queens. I was just always fascinated by it for some reason, although the whole house was very modern and more than enough tech equipped for the 21st century, my room was resembling a rather 17th century bedroom with nothing more than a shelf, a table, a big bed and a mirror. Something like this, although less spectacular.
I was however contemplating on the idea between waking her up gently or waking her up… the way she deserved.
She was sleeping and rather uncommon for a January day, the sun was shining powerfully and the light was gently brushing against her side of the bed. She was no Regina. She was much more muscular than Regina, and taller I might add. She smelled differently. Regina usually smelled like, well not exactly that smell, but the feeling that you got from smelling her, was similar to the feeling you get when smelling old books…
I can’t really describe it, but I’m sure you all know it. It’s that feeling that makes you exhale and inhale again, and again, and again. And even though it’s the same smell, you keep doing it because it’s addictive in a way. You can’t really say WHAT is that smell, but you like it.
Some people say that about gasoline also. I beg to differ. I like the smell of old books. That’s how Regina smelled. It was an unfamilliar yet strongly addictive smell, just like her eyes.
Viktoria on the other hand smelled like caramel or toffee or whipped cream with too much sugar in it. It was a… distinct smell, pleasant, yet not addictive and, on the contrary, it was the kind of smell that, if inhaled more than once or twice, has the potential to make you sick to your stomach. Kind of like eating too much honey or something way over your league too sweet.
I wasn’t complaining, I wondered how I smelled like and I also wondered how I smelled like for them. I know the answer of how I smelled like for Viktoria, seeing as she just fed on me in her sleep. It clearly wasn’t unattractive. McDonald’s french fries.
But enough with the smell.
I got up and as stealthy as I could I reached under my bed where I was keeping this big, sharp, heavy and shiny stainless steel stake which I secretly called “The End”.
You see, I was planning on murdering Regina at some point, because of all the books and movies and retarded texts that I have read, which all eventually convinced me that sooner or later, a vampire will turn on you and your family no matter how well you know each other and how involved you are. So I prepared. It was a foolish idea then, because of several things. First, there’s no way you’re going to be able to use that, not on Regina, secondly, the vampire that turns on you is a false, misleading and plain wrong concept, and third, I didn’t have the strength to use it, now that I think of it, that stake was way too thick.[audio http://k006.kiwi6.com/hotlink/d6339y0y30/old_irish_blessing_keep-mp3.com_.mp3]
Regardless, I grabbed it, got on top of Viktoria and stuck it in the air above her head, stopping just short of her forehead, barely scratching it. She opened her eyes. Now, one would normally expect caution, no sudden movements and a nice, calm tone from the one being under the threat of a weapon, especially when you wake up to that threat. That wasn’t the case here. I was in almost no time, on the table in the other corner of the room, shelves and chairs broken all around me, books from the shelves above almost poking my eyes out and all that.
She practically didn’t even blink before doing that. I guess she was used to it. Or was it just normal predatory response? Never back down? No matter, she looked puzzled.
“Last night you offered me a home and now you’re offering me eternal peace? I didn’t knew you were so kind-hearted…” Viktoria said.
“You bit me and it hurts, it hurts my mind that you are now basically functioning on me-essence.” I replied.
“I woke up in the middle of the night, hungry, thirsty and with a fresh water well and a freshly cooked pig next to me. What did you expect.” She said.
Nobody ever called me a “fresh water well and a freshly cooked pig”. To be honest, I don’t think there is one single person in this whole galaxy who has been called that at some point in his life.
“I’m telling mom.” I replied sarcastically, got up and left the room. Mom, as to Regina, not as to my actual mom. My actual mom didn’t really need to know anything, although she expected to see me with my neck like that.
It’s funny how people just cringe at the idea that there could be a 100% normal family, from any point of view, just living about with a vampire in their house that occasionally brings friends, and they all leave bite marks behind. It’s just crazy even when I think about it. But we were on the same wavelength. I understood that this wasn’t deception, oppression, cause of fear or anything. It was just something that happened, has fairly low chances of happening anytime soon again, and they just understood there are things going on.
My father was just charmed by both Regina and Viktoria. Him, like me, didn’t fear that much, plus he always was, and is, somewhat of a history and geography maniac, he likes to read and discuss different events that changed the world, historical facts that might have gone different, reasons behind why the world is how it is and how could it had been different if certain events would have unfolded differently. So, whenever he got the chance to talk with them, he would. His eyes were gleaming whenever there was talk of “togetherness” (as in the whole family and ‘guests’) sharing an evening, day or whatever. He also understood they were guests, and not demons. I think being the most atheist family on the block helped also.
By the time I got out of the shower and returned to the room, Viktoria was already up and about, but because it was a Thursday, which meant the house was usually empty until 17:00 when parents got back home from work, she was rather bored.
You know those type of children who are just really, really full of energy, at around the age of 5, but you, in some instances, like a medical waiting room or a quiet restaurant, force them to stay, shut up and don’t say anything, and they just turn their heads to the floor, put a lip down and say nothing, occasionally bursting out for a second and then quickly composing themselves again. That’s how she was. Bored, yet full of energy, like a lion in a cage.
“Don’t you have business to attend to?” I asked.
“Well, I actually came here straight from the end of the world. Regina called for me and I went. She made a list of requests, two actually, that we need.” She replied.
“Yes, we need your necklace and a bit of blood, just a tiny bit.”
“What? What for? No.”
“It’s for the little project you and her are working on. Don’t ask me. Just give me what I need and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Viktoria, there’s no way you’re getting my necklace.”
“Ok.” She replied.
“Then the blood.” – Which I agreed to, and she bit me once again, from the wrist, let it trickle down a bit into a small plastic vial. It didn’t feel nor look good no matter how you take it. I’d rather have someone sucking on my neck, than being forced to watch this. It just isn’t natural, but I guess some might argue that being bitten isn’t natural either. Guess what, it is. At least it had become more natural to me than what was happening right there.
“I’m sorry for last night.” She said in a low voice, with her head down, white, silvery hair covering her face, her eyes on my wrist, holding it with both hands and letting it go as soon as she said it.
Then, with the vial in her pocket, she ripped the necklace from my neck and ran. Just like that, in under two seconds, she was gone, out the door, but in a hurry. I couldn’t be bothered to run after her, I knew better.
Can you hate her? I was just… amazed at how sneaky she was, at how much she tried to fulfil any of Regina’s requests, and at how little she cared about anyone and anything else.
I hated the position she was in, and the way she made me look and feel, sure, but hate her ways or her as a person… I’m not sure.
This wasn’t over in any case. All that has happened meant nothing really, what bothered me the most was that she took off before telling me when and if Regina is coming back, or where is she and how to get in touch with her. I just… I wanted to be “in” again.
I remember clearly to this day how I had a revelation around that time, which was in the lines of “I always want to be on both sides. That thing with the grass is greener on the other side must be true. Because I always want to be with Regina running around taking part in her daily routine, but once there, I always wanted to go back to a normal life.”
And this is another reason why I could never decide on being turned or not. Once you choose, that’s it. You can never go back to the normal life. What happens then if I just can’t get used to being 24/7 on one of the sides? Do I end up like all the others, ending my own life?
And if I chose not to be turned, and become old and sick and all that, won’t I have the biggest regret a human being has ever had, passing out on eternal youth?
In any case, back to where Viktoria took off.
I picked up the phone and called Blanche. I had hoped at least she wasn’t in on the plan, and was still around.
September 13, 2012 § 8 Comments
Like I’ve been telling my readers (the ones who contact me) I was planning to go home in Sighisoara, back where it all started. Not for good, just for summer.
I used to consider it too dangerous to go back, which might just be true. However, something happened (which will be in the story as soon as I get with it to the current year) but all in all it has proven to be a fruitful journey.
I’m very, very tempted to give away free spoilers here, but I’m going to refrain myself. I’m just going to say that the whole point of this was, among others, the fact that I haven’t been there in years, the fact that I haven’t talked with anyone back home in years, the fact that I didn’t know anything new about Viktor, Blanche or Sophia.
That was until I got an e-mail from Sophia asking me to come home as soon as possible. Which I did.
Next up, story part number 30, from where I left off, which is more precisely the winter of 2006. We’re closing in here, just six more years to go.