revealing of the vampire secret [story part 41]
November 10, 2012 § 1 Comment
the very next day – and the ones to come – were probably among the most revealing for me in the whole time. Now don’t go around expecting huge spoilers, because I’ll let everything flow with the story, but the following few days were of particular interest because of at least two things. That’s one of the reasons I also chose to continue the story in this format (split into days) until we get over this part.
This is the first post in a series of a few, which I shamelessly title “revealing of the vampire secret”.
This is no. I.
The test before the test.
September, 2007. Still in Sighisoara. Night-time. A day had passed since the last post. Usually, boring day. I’m sure not for you, but for the sake of the story, there’s nothing to be said about it. Regina and I spent the day with the family. Finally got her in the same room with my brother for more than a few seconds. Nothing interesting happened. Night time came, here we are, case closed.
Around 22:00 Regina started getting impatient. She was looking from left to right as like she was expecting someone.
She wasn’t. Not really.
We were in the garden and the warmth of the summer was still lingering in the air, just barely.
“So – have you kept up with what I said?” – Regina was referring to me training like a maniac every single day. I slacked, a bit, but in the most part, I was good for it.
“Care to try me out?” I responded.
“Oh, taking the devil by the horns, are we?” She added.
“Literally.” I finished.
And she launched towards me. She missed. She was playing me I thought of the time but now, I mean years later, I’m not so sure.
In any case, the look on her (my?) face was good enough for an intake of… well, much-needed self-esteem, which I lacked terribly those days, but fear not, they were coming back.
She launched towards me again and I dodged again, but much more of a close call this time. Was she playing me or just testing me? Learning how I move? Can’t tell. In any case, this wasn’t really… well, it was play. I mean, she was just casually running at me from side to side trying to catch me off guard. And that, that is the whole point – never, ever let yourself touched. That’s the whole key. Keep your distance, attack through defense – as in – when THEY get close. Don’t charge. Once you get grabbed, that’s it – because you simply don’t have enough strength to overpower them.
This wasn’t Regina… Regina, as in, the queen of vampires Regina. This was just your average girl, a more angry and stronger than usual girl. I beg you to read the part of the story where she actually fought someone, and you’ll get a totally different picture, and know what I’m talking about here.
This went on for quite a few more minutes. Mother and father were actually looking at us from the terrace, which was just a meter above ground, attached to the house which is about 20 meters away.
They were talking, although I have no idea what they were saying. Nowadays I just try to think that they were saying something along the lines of “Aww look at them how nice they are playing…” although I’m fairly certain that it wasn’t the case back then. It makes me feel better now, so what? Lying to myself, yeah, I
did do that a lot.
“Well you’ve certainly gotten bigger…” Regina said, and that was very much true. I was no longer overshadowed, physique wise, by her. A bit taller, much wider, and more imposing now than her. At least with my body, except the look. Because those eyes and the look she had, those could rival any body in the world.
You could be the most muscular, angry and massive person out there – when she looked at you with that specific look – you backed the fuck off.
I don’t know if you actually know anyone with that kind of “killer” look – some Russian people might subscribe to this, but if you do, then imagine that amplified by… by however much it’s needed for you to stop wanting to look them in the eyes.
Now of course, this wasn’t her look all the time but trust me, it worked wonders in oh so many situation which would have had much, much more different (as in bad, very bad) results that they did in the past.
Hold your horses, we’re getting to that.
She came from behind me, I heard it, and turned around ready to just punch whatever was coming to me.
You, the reader, do you train? Or, has someone ever tried to piss you off to the point where you just snapped?
I’m asking because – some of you might know that feeling when play turns serious without even realizing it. You just go along with it and before you realize it, you’re angry. What the hell happened? You could have sworn you were playing a second ago.
That was the case here, with me.
I didn’t punch anyone, I turned and nobody was there. She had vanished, only to jump at me from the tree above, not even a second later.
I fell down, broke (dislodged maybe?) a finger when I touched the ground.
“God damn it.” I said.
“I’m not… Be gentle, ok?” I said this mockingly – I mean how can you be gentle in a fight? And I started walking away, with her following me close-by. I’m sure she was smiling behind me. I never saw it. Am I lying to myself again?
I always was a bit amazed by my family and how they handled things. It seemed, and still does, as they were all under some sort of conspiracy. Granted, I’m fairly sure Regina had a lot to do with it, as you’re about to see, but still, the way they handled everything was nothing but short of a miracle. No questions, no sadness, no secrets.
Although they were all very well aware (except me apparently) on what would be the course of action – somewhere along the lines of what happened to Blanche. At the time, we weren’t really thinking about that, none of us.
As we got inside the house Regina jumped me once again and pinned me to the wall with my face towards the wall. I knew what she was doing, that’s how she liked to feed on most people. Guilt maybe? I doubt it. Maybe more control. However, she rarely did it to me.
She always, always looked me in the eyes before. So naturally, I responded.
Instead of giving in, I fought back, which is maybe one of the only two times when I did fight back on it.
She turned me around several times and caught my hands above my head with one hand, and with the other force turned my head, and with me squirming there she just sank her teeth deep inside my left shoulder – just above, with me still squirming, cursing and being completely immobilized. I wasn’t mad, I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t even upset. This was a mere continuation of the angry play-battle from the outside, and a way for her to cool-off I guess. I was just… not willing. But that didn’t matter. I think she made it a life principle to make sure I know how it feels being fed on as often as possible, hungry or not, I had to remember.
And that’s good practice I guess, if you’re planning to turn someone. Make sure he knows the other side too. I didn’t care too much about knowing the other side, nor at being turned.
My point was proven, to me, more than enough times. She often just bit me for a few seconds and then let go – for the sake of it – and then bit again in the same spot. This time was different, but was still a bite.
After she finished, she did look me in the eyes.
“You’ve gotten angry, haven’t you. I can almost taste it.” She said.
“You make me angry.” I responded, smiing.
“And that’s not always a bad thing….” She added.
“But you did grow quite a bit…” She said, while looking at where she bit, implying there was just that much more of me to feed on.
And she bit again, from the neck. That one hurt, and was more violent – and straight forward. Obviously intentional. God dammit!
She wasn’t holding my hand anymore so I grabbed her head with both my hands, but gently, not in a get lost kind of way, but in a slow down kind of way, and gently tried pushing her away… and she let go, like a dog who is finally sick of that toy he’s been grabbing with his teeth for the past hour – she looked at me confused.
Still holding her head with my hands, in almost complete darkness, I kissed her without flinching. This was, at least for me, a first.
Not the kiss, the timing.
She was in pretty much all her senses, fully blown vampire, eyes wide open swirling with just complete reddish darkness inside, fangs more than visible, as in almost they had grown too that past year, her face – almost growling, but not really – I had come to learn that was just a natural expression because of the fangs – she was breathing hard and a few of her hairs were touching the corner of her mouth which had my blood on it.
Me, sweaty as hell from all the struggle, she – fully in her true vampire face, standing there, one feral as a panther, the other – me – experiencing something out of this world – she, with her mouth and lips intentionally left covered in my own blood. Lips half parted, eyes drilling holes in my head. That picture right there would burn any other memory you have for a very, very long time – and would stay with you for years to come.
I kissed her just like that. And she seemed stiff. As in, not reacting. Her hands were stiff alongside her body, she didn’t move, she didn’t react. She just continued breathing really hard. Although I’m fairly certain that everything I did while with Regina, she had done it at least 20 times before, no matter how unlikely it seemed, she was acting more than… overwhelmed.
I had later learned it wasn’t emotion, but feelings, as in physical feelings.
Her, and anyone eases fangs, are so sensitive they almost hurt when touched in such moments. I don’t know how they work, both for attacks and for feeding, if they are so sensitive. I have no idea, they just do, and sometimes when they feed they are like these, too sensitive to even look at, and sometimes they are rock hard ready for anything. I don’t know why and how this happens, it’s like they have a life and a heart of their own.
In any case – I felt her flinch alright when I gently touched the tip of her fangs with my lips and then dug in even harder and kissed her again. My own blood, in my own mouth, didn’t seem so far-fetched, nor as disgusting as it once felt.
Sure, we’ve all cut ourselves making dinner at some point and put our finger in our mouth, out of habit, instinct, just like a dog licking his own wounds. But that amount is hardly descriptive for how blood REALLY tastes like. In higher quantities, for a human at least, it’s sour, bitter and sweet in the same time. It’s a very confusing taste, which when coupled with an irony smell and taste, warm and a bit oily, it just becomes gag-response inducing.
But for me, I had enough time to get used to it, and that night I just didn’t really think about it. Regina was genuinely having shivers running down her spine which just made it that more better.
I don’t know how to better describe this, but this was that kind of kiss that just beat sex hands-down. It was that kind of kiss where you just want to rip off all your clothes and just merge with the one you’re kissing. It’s like those times where you really, really want to bite someone’s lip but you’re holding it back and it’s just very, very hard to hold back.
And that’s what I FELT. Now imagine what she felt, and the amount of control one needs to have to do that, for someone in her position.
But I’m making too much of a deal of something that’s not relevant to the story.
The relevant part about this is the fact that maybe this was, like many others, one of those moments in which I consolidated my relation with Regina, and my feelings towards the whole kinship, and the idea of being one of them. Also, it was a pretty decisive moment for helping me decide my path the following few days.
I think I had passed the tests, both the “Are you strong enough (not necessarily physically)?” test and the “Are you still the same person I cared about?” test.
After the whole thing we just… let ourselves fall down. As in a synchronous, without thinking about it, we both let our legs go in the same time and just slid down, convulted, in a weird – but proprietary – way of holding each other.
And we stood there for a few minutes…
“I think I found Sigismund…” She whispered to the ceiling.
I almost passed out.