hell is a frozen wasteland… for some [story part 45]

November 29, 2012 § 12 Comments


A month later pretty much all the paperwork was done.
“I hate flying…” Regina said as we boarded the plane.

After a rather short flight we landed in Moscow.

Russia. Again. I wondered why didn’t we go the other way more often, not that I have anything against Russia, but I’d rather not go into a Moscow during the winter, and yet there we were, going not only to Moscow, but someplace much worse.

It took us another three full days to get there.

“That’s it. This is as far as we can go. From here we walk.” Regina said as she started gathering things from around her and preparing to get out of the car. I couldn’t read in Russian properly, but I could work-out we were in an almost deserted town-port, later I had found it was the Novyy Port.

I wasn’t so keen on opening any doors, windows, getting out or leaving the nice warm micro-climate we had going there. We were basically descending into hell. Once that door was opened, there was no more warmth, no more comfort, just pure frozen hell.

Regina looked at me with a blank expression, as if she was looking through me…

“Are we ready?” She asked.

“You tell me. I have zero idea what I’m doing here. There’s nothing here and we’re searching for someone… that has been gone for a long time. Nothing can survive here Regina. Nothing. Let’s just go back.” She didn’t say anything, but clearly we weren’t going anywhere back.

“For how long do you reckon this food will last you?” She asked looking to her right. On our backseat we had loads and loads of backpacks all filled with nothing but food and clothes. Lots of food. Human food.

“I don’t know, ten days maybe? In normal conditions I guess. But in this cold and with you on my throat I might eat a lot more.” I answered.

“Me too.” She added. I didn’t like that. Like she used to say, “not one bit”.

A boat took us across what seemed to me an entire sea, I was literally thinking we were heading into the north pole and Regina wouldn’t say where we were going. I went anyway. The crossing of took us more than five days although it should have taken one and as soon as we got on the boat we immediately regretted, both of us, that we didn’t board an ice-breaker.

There aren’t many ships lying around that area, and this one shouldn’t have been there in the first place, but after the first 3 hours of continuous walking through the Siberian town port in search for that very ship, the crew of which were more than happy to see us, we were both thankful for a small break. We took the time to sleep. We needed as much sleep as we could, at least I did. I was almost always tired no matter how much I slept or ate. Nothing interesting happened on the boat except sleeping, eating, sleeping, eating… and then getting off the boat without eating. Smart.

As soon as we got off the boat, on the shore of that god forsaken island, I realized that we were alone. Alone in the world. There was nothing around us for maybe hundreds of kilometers except ice, snow and yet more ice. And mountains. This was both heaven and hell in the same time.

“Shut up and grab the rope already!” Regina shouted at me from the top of a 20 meter cliff which she climbed and then threw a rope down to help me climb it too, but I was too busy making sure I explained to her how this was a really bad idea. The whole thing, not just the rope.

This would be one of the many such climbing expeditions, although I’m no climbing expert and those were no mountains. I just held on really tight, pulled myself whenever I got the chance, otherwise pushed with my feet, and Regina pulled from above. I’m fairly heavy and she’s fairly small but she had no problems in hoisting me up faster than you could say “Shit! That’s high.”

We couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7 hours in the cold before we had to take our first break. We saw the opportunity to get cover from the merciless winds and took advantage of it.

We were both so cold we could barely speak anymore. In front of us laid a makeshift cave of sorts, more of a hole carved in the side of a rock, we ducked in there, lined everything with snow wherever we could and pulled a synthetic fabric over the whole thing. Even though we were both already hungry with over 48 hours of no food for Regina and nearly 24 hours for me, and with the blistering cold and the walk we just had, even with all that, we still had the power to smile to one another and be optimistic for the rest of the journey.

One thought lingered in both of our minds, the thought of going back because we might just die there, the both of us. There was no escape and no salvation, not even for a being such as Regina. Blood is life and without it – without me – she would be as vulnerable – if not more – than myself. But alas, we were prepared. We were both, combined, carrying over 40kg of supplies ranging from cooking utensils (a basic pot and a mini-gas burner) to spices, among others. Yes, spices. If you’re going to die, you might as well go in style.

I fired up the burner to prepare some food for me – and after I ate and got warm enough – for her too, indirectly. I was her mini-burner and cooking utensils and spices, all-in-one. Pretty convenient if you ask me. Vulnerable, but convenient.

We were almost soaking wet on the outside. As the temperature inside our little hut got to a bearable -10 degrees, we unclothed the first layer and held each other tighter than you could hug your own mother. I slowly felt her turning up her own afterburner, and although she usually was colder than me, she was now burning red. I knew she was trying to keep me warm and I could see her focus on squeezing out everything she had. I don’t know even to this day whether it was the fact that my skin had spent so much time in the cold and now even the least bit of warmth felt like burning, or if she really was that warm, but my skin was tingling with a burning sensation and it felt heavenly.

Later, I would write about this moment in my journal:

When we kiss, your lips still tingle and burn with all of the passion as before, your touch is still fire to my skin. The way your eyes gaze back into mine shows me two things: the love that you feel for me, and the hate that resides just beneath the surface. The hate that you have for me because of what I am and you can never be again. You miss that and I can see it in your eyes. Make no mistake, that is the only thing that keeps you strong – the love you have for who I am – the love and your longing for your lost humanity.

I had no experience in things like these. Up until then I was not into any type of survival situation, ever. I had no idea what supplies would I need, what things would I need to know about survival, I relied mostly on Regina knowing that. I had to learn everything anyway, step by step, before the journey and continuing after. One thing was for sure: I was prepared, physically. I had feverishly trained each and every day and if there was someone prepared to face that cold, it was me.

I was never squeamish about the cold, and although where we were at that time was pretty cold, it didn’t go far from what I was accustomed to. I grew up in Transylvania, and Transylvania has a climate that can make anyone dizzy. It’s nice and fuzzy year round, with four distinct seasons, nothing out of the ordinary compared to the rest of Europe, however there are, just like in the surrounding territories, some small exceptions. The continental climate makes it prone to really hot and dry summers, with sub-Saharan winds arriving on the south-western part of the country and with temperatures in bigger cities firing up in those really hot few days during the summer up to 45, if not even more at street level, made entirely out of black tar, asphalt. It melts. Every summer, it melts.

However in the winters, in the region that I grew up, you experience really harsh winters. Not even 25km away from Sighisoara lies the township of Miercurea Ciuc, known for its beer, high population of Hungarian speaking Romanians, but also for its temperatures, because it is here where winter always announces its arrival, and it is here where temperatures plunge, in those dark winter nights, sometimes to as low as -30 with records of -35. Boiling water, if thrown in the air, falls down as ice-crystals by the time it reaches the ground. Freezing a cup of water on the window sill will take you less than 2 minutes. That is the dark face of Transylvania. It kills the unaccustomed, silently and fast.

Nevertheless, even being slightly accustomed to the cold, like I said, I wasn’t really in the know-how about supplies and the art of survival. Sure, I had read a few interesting books (which I can provide if you want) and that helped tremendously.

My supplies of food were something like this:

A lot of sweets, mainly power-bars and pure sugar. This was reserved as a last resort, high calorie intake, fast burn, readily available, fairly light.

3kg of high-fat cured and smoked salmon meat, ready to be eaten as-is, resistant to freezing (as in it can be consumed even frozen, like beef jerky if you want), very tasty and easily cooked if preferred to be eaten with anything else. Salted heavily.

5 tubes of different types of multi-vitamins, solvable in water or pill-based, both types, ranging from every single type of mineral and vitamin that the human body needs to function properly. This kind of stash would have lasted me at least 2 months under normal conditions, but I figured better to be on the safe-side. I wasn’t going to risk vitamin poisoning by taking too many, but they might (and did) come in handy.

Soup. Packaged, instant soup. This has little caloric intake as you might be aware, but is easily prepared and it beats tea in these conditions. All I needed was snow, the burner and this. Combined with a multi-vitamin and a power-bar, this made for a fast food intake, it was light and I could bring as much as I wanted. I did.

Spices – I don’t eat spicy, but I brought a lot of chilli anyway – I figured that between vodka and pepper and chilli, the latter would be a wiser choice.

Basically all of that, including the cooking utensils weighted about 10kg, so that was all the food. I estimated it to last me for at least 7 days. It didn’t.

The human body consumes twice the calories under such cold temperatures, and the fact that I was feeding someone else too didn’t help with preserving energy.

We must had dozed off for at least 10 minutes with the burner on – not a good start, but I woke up and Regina was already smiling at me.

“Well someone’s in a good mood…” I said as I was getting up in a sitting position.

“I made soup!” She exclaimed.

“Oh thanks…” I said.

“Wait. When was the last time you cooked?” I asked.

“Well, I can’t remember, so that might answer your question, but I wouldn’t really call this cooking, so it doesn’t count. Here, drink this.” She responded as she pushed the soup towards me. It smelled better than life itself.

I drank all of it, almost a liter of it, and then like I said, ate a power-bar and took a multi-vitamin and I was already feeling warmer, stronger and more energetic.

I turned off the mini-burner and it went completely dark.

Between me and you, this might just be the scariest experience one can imagine, but for me it was one of the most beautiful.
I was warm, comfortable, tired and ready to go to bed and the only thing that I wanted most in this world was right besides me. The only sound that one could hear there was the sound of our breath, and nothing else. Not even the wind which had seemed to calm down over the night.

I turned my back to Regina and let her creep up to me, encompassing me between her arms and legs all around me like a black window spider ready to strike. I know this might paint a dark picture of that, but it’s just for the sake of the story. In reality, all of this was set long-before, and we both knew pretty well what each of us needs and we offered it happily and were sad if we were even denied the chance to offer it, like a mother who would offer her own… everything for the sake of her child.

I let her take me in her arms once again, and in the dead dark of the sub-arctic night, I slowly turned my head and leaned it forward, I felt her lips creeping up slowly, touching the bottom of my neck and working their way up. I knew exactly where they would stop, and I shuddered with pleasure just at the thought of it. I pushed my body back into hers in a gesture of “I am yours” and then I felt nothing. I fell asleep and I let my body for hers to take. I wanted nothing more, nothing less, than to be a part of her in any way that I could.

A baby crying. I woke up to the sound of a baby crying.
What in the world was a baby doing here. This was surreal.
I flinched and then I suddenly opened my eyes.

your wish is my command [story part 44]

November 23, 2012 § 6 Comments


“Tomorrow you need to go and apply for a new everything. New ID, new passport, pay all the emergency fees. Get it done as fast as possible. Until then I’ll go sort something on my end, and I’ll be back when you’re ready.” Regina said as she was starting to pick-up a few things she had left around the room.

“Wait wait wait wait waaaait a second… I’m not… Why?” I intervened.

“Because I can’t do anything about it. Up until now you didn’t have to, but now nobody can help me or you. Everything needs to be done your way (as in the legal society way) because we don’t want to draw any attention. Do you understand this?” Regina asked on a rather serious tone.

“Yes.” I answered

“Are you sure?” She replied.

I didn’t respond.

“First things first. Have you ever pulled that trick on me?” She knew what I was talking about.

“I would remember, wouldn’t I?” I asked, but received no answer.

“Wait, isn’t she (Maria) going to remember?” She still didn’t say anything. Straight poker face.

“REGINA!”

Nothing.

“Just make sure you get everything ready.” She said as she opened the back door of the house, the one leading into the back yard and consequently, into the parking lot next to the garage.

She wasn’t slipping out this time. I was dying to know, more than anything, and it couldn’t wait. This was something that may have affected me, my family and everyone that I know. This was something that would explain a lot of things that didn’t previously made sense to me, especially a lot of things that seemed like true feats and heroic achievements on her part.

I grabbed her hand just before she managed to leave. I pulled her back hard. She stopped, looked at me and pulled back trying to make me let go.

I didn’t let go and pulled her inside the house even harder.

“ARGHHHH” She exclaimed.

“You’ve not only gotten stronger, but also a lot more nosier.” She said as she settled back inside the house.

“I don’t like it. Not one bit.” She added. But she was smiling. I knew that wasn’t true. She liked it at least a bit. How couldn’t she? I was basically going through a metamorphosis that would have as end result Regina Reloaded: Me.

“DID. YOU. DO. THAT. SHIT. TO. ME?” I asked.

“Alright. Alright! Go over there…” She pointed with her finger towards the hallway mirror, which was about 3 meters away.

I looked at it, looked back at Regina, and complied.

Two seconds later, she was pulling out the same powdering kit that she used not even an hour ago. Now, you may have realized that this has something to do with everything, because of the manner in which I explained this, but to me at that time it was a really small detail, and everything happened rather fast (or I was too slow) that I didn’t really give it a second thought. I did not even for a second thought that it had anything more to do with convincing (read zombifying) Maria, more than a mere distraction maybe.

“This.” Regina said.

“This is what we (as in what I later found was about 30% of the kinship) simply call ‘dust’ “. She added and then continued.

“You (as in humanity) might know it under a lot of different names: Devil’s Breath… , Scopolamine….” She added.

I was as much in the dark with this explanation as I was without it. She noticed this and picked-up again.

“This is deadly for any human. At least in the concentration that I use.” She meant that, powdering yourself like that with it would kill you instantly.

“However, in smaller quantities… well, you saw what effect it has.” She finished.

“Wait, so do you mean everything about the vampire hypnotism myth is actually true?” I asked.

“Well yes and no…. my eyes have nothing to do with it. The dust helps a lot, but it also matters very much how you ask, what you say and how you speak.” She answered.

“It takes your free-will away. Nothing more, nothing less.” She closed her plea.

“Do they remember anything?” I asked.

“Some do, but more like a dream rather than a real solid memory.” Regina answered, starting to look like she had enough questions answered for the day.

“So… you built this whole myth on a drug?!” I continued asking anyway.

“I, WE, didn’t build anything. YOU did (humans). We just didn’t say anything about it. It’s available to be bought by anyone! Just go look for it. However, the difference is we can use it much more freely. It doesn’t affect me. I can use this powdering kit and submit everyone around me in a matter of seconds.” Regina said.

“So in a sense, it’s even more than what they (other humans) think they know about hypnotism. It’s not like that. It’s a drug with a side-effect, and that’s it.” She explained further. I was starting to get the gist of it.

“We’ve been using it for hundreds of years. You knew about it for the same period of time. There’s no secret about it, it’s just rare and deadly.” And with that she stood up and left without even letting me add another word. My question was still not answered, if she had used it on me, ever. And it remains unanswered to this day. I can’t remember anything, not even a dream, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t.

I’ll summarize the next points about this substance from following research and from more talks with Regina:

  • From a medical point of view, it’s the perfect substance for committing crimes. The victims will not remember who gave it to them and will not remember (and thus not report) anything.
  • 1gr of this can kill up to 15 people.
  • It is mostly used for robberies – which is good for the kinship, but was also used by the FBI, the CIA and even Joseph Mengele, the infamous German doctor.
  • It is very fine, airborne when processed chemically into a powder form.
  • It can also be used in a drink.
  • It’s taken from a plant that grows in Colombia. It is a tree. It’s enough to sleep under that tree and you’re hooked. Animals, insects, birds that touch the tree, dye instantly.
  • It’s a very beautiful tree, beautiful flowers and yet very deadly. It’s public, it grows on the streets, it is not banned. This description, all of it, can also be applied directly to Regina. In that manner, it’s her perfect “friend”.
  • It renders the victim completely powerless, lacking free-will or the power to refuse anything you say to the victim. The victim is still alert, articulate, can speak for himself, basically you become a person without memory or free-will.
  • It sounds too good to be true, yet it is completely, 100% true and available to you TODAY.
  • It’s enough to even smell the flowers of the tree to get you hallucinating.

All this information can be found in the following video. Enough with my blabber. If you’re skeptic enough by now and can’t believe what I’m saying, then for you readers out there that are skeptic about this whole thing, here is the world’s FIRST and ONLY documentary about this powder. The first documentary to make this known to the world. Before watching it make sure of a few things:

1) Reserve half an hour to watch the full thing, UNDISTURBED. Everything in this documentary is mind-blowing, life-changing and very important.

2) Make sure you pay close attention to the statues presented in the first part, almost and the. Do the first set of statues remind you of anything familiar?

3) If you’re not watching the movie here, but instead prefer to go to the official site of the VICE magazine where the movie is posted, then make sure to turn on translation through the menu (the “CC” button).

The official documentary about scopolamine or devil’s breath can be found here.

the solution is within your reach [story part 43]

November 20, 2012 § 9 Comments


So here we are. The third part of the revealing of the vampire secret.
Anything you need? Nature provides.

The belief that anything mystical and supernatural goes in the vampire world is just that, a belief. Nothing more, nothing less. Based on things that we do not understand.

Fast-forward.

“BUT I LIKE MY NAME!”

I was shouting as I was trying to keep up with her.

“Where we’re going, you cannot be who you are. You cannot leave the country with me, with that name, not where we’re going. Not for this.”

Whatever. I thought… I’ll just… not use it. Boy was I wrong.

I’ve left you last time where Regina was asking for my help, mine – to get to Sigismund. Little did I know at the time that this, the fact that Sigismund might be alive, meant way too much for the kinship to be left out in the open. Nobody could know, not even Viktoria. Nobody should even hear that Regina was trying to do such a thing, because that would have meant she had suspicions that it is true – and that alone is enough to make a few drastic changes.

As in turns out, the only person who she could go to was me. Because I was not part of the kinship, and yet I knew enough to be able to assist. Anything else up to this point was just out of pure pleasure, just because she wanted to let me see this and that, just because she wanted this and that, nothing was REQUIRED. I was not needed, I was just there because she wanted me to. But now, now things had changed. This search was a search for both of us, but it had deep, deep implications in the kinship that I didn’t really fathom until much later.

Sigismund being alive would have changed everything. For starters, Regina would stop being the oldest of them – and with that – the status that she enjoyed, because the fact that she was a queen came from her bloodline. As soon as someone older, from whom she herself is a descendant of, comes into play, as soon as that happens, she stops being the top bloodline and everything falls apart, because most of it is built on worship, respect, fear and a combination of the three. Something along the lines of “I don’t believe in god, but I fear him.”

Given, finding Sigismund was as much as a personal quest for her, as it was for me – the bottom point was following the necklace trail, remembering where it came from, why – and which was its connection with the Black Eyed Children. Understanding, basically, who they are and what do they have to do with vampires first and humanity as a whole second.

But to get there, to follow what she might have found, for that she needed help. Where we were going there were no other people, there were no stops, there was just pure walking and walking through nothingness, until eventually arriving. I was as much as a help, a companion as I was a blood-bag.

More on that in a second. First, this:

“Can I pick a name?”

“Sure. How about Alex?”

“No.”

“Daniel?”

“No.”

“Well just think of something and we’ll see about it.”

We were going to the only place in town where the ultimate proof of me ever being born was found. We were going to the archives in the town hall, which were not digitized at the moment (still aren’t I guess, paper archives are always safer than electronic ones apparently, they think). We were going for my birth certificate. Not to make it disappear, not to change it. No. Just to create a new one.

That, in my mind, was a feat that not even she could achieve. Being nice only goes that far.

As soon as we stepped into the town hall, which if you looked at past photos know it’s this way too huge building, looking like a castle, overseeing the whole town, as soon as we did that, I once again saw that which I call influence. It’s not what you see in the movies, it’s not hypnosis. It’s just a very, very careful art of talking, observing and manipulating a person into swaying his or her opinion to your favor. It’s nothing that a human cannot achieve, but when given the charm that she had, the knowledge that she had and a few centuries of training, you end up with something that for 99% of the people seems un-natural. For me incldued, at the time, seemed something that came out of the movie, and for that very reason I followed a psychology communication science, with focus on manipulation, persuasion and social influence. I can now understand it, identify it and to a certain level, also do it, but I’m nowhere near anything that Regina was. For that I need another century to do this. In any case, what did come next was as un-natural for me as it could.

Using all the strength that she had, she found out who was responsible for accessing the archive, extracting the data from there, or adding new data. This information isn’t public, and for good reasons.

“Go down the corridor, to the left, and ask for Maria. She could help you.”

And so we did, Regina in front, I followed.

“Have you figured your name yet?” She asked in a “We’re going to need that answer soon enough” tone.

I doubted that Maria, whoever she was, would just allow Regina to waltz in there and modify anything. No matter how convincing or scary, Maria was there for a reason. Call security at any sign of trouble. I’m sure Regina was not the first, nor the last, to attempt changing records.

“Hi. My name is Regina, he’s…..”

I said my “new” chosen name. Regina smiled.

Maria was this 40 something woman, a bit chunky with glasses larger than it should be allowed, medium-sized hair, dyed too ostentatiously in a what was supposed to be chestnut but it turned out more carrot like than it should, she was also looking at us rather irritated and started arranging her clothes as soon as we got close, straightening herself out and adopting a defensive position, hands crossed , looking from above kind of stance. I didn’t know at the time, but usually when someone does that, you’re going to have a lot of trouble in convincing that person of anything.

Maria also seemed more interested in Regina’s shoes than at what she was saying, looking up and down, analyzing both Regina and me as well.

“We’d love if you could help us find a lost birth certificate…” And as she was saying that, Regina pulled out a powdering kit, the kind with a mirror and a small powdering fluffy thing whatever it’s called, and started powdering her face in a rather aggressive way, so much so that the powder was all around the air between her and Maria. I wanted to get close to take a good look at what the hell is actually happening (she never powdered?) but Regina urged me with a flick of a right hand, without turning towards me or breaking eye contact with Maria, to stay back.

I complied. I always did, because I never knew what she was intending to do, and more than often it involved her needing space. This was and wasn’t the case in the same time. I was expecting violence, yes, again, but instead received a healthy dose of total compliance.

By the time she finished saying that, I expected Maria to have a rather aggressive tone, like all Romanian public workers, and just rudely say that we need this and that and that AND that and it’s not possible whatever we do. Instead, she said almost nothing except mumbling something that I didn’t understand and had an empty stare, past Regina, past me, looking at… nothing really.

Wait – what? This couldn’t be happening. Vampires can’t – don’t – have that hypnotism thing the movies talk about. Do they?

“Maria… why don’t you show us inside… you want to, right?”

“Mmmphh…” she mumbled and started heading for the door.

I was purely, utterly, 100% shocked. This shocked me more than anything I had ever seen up to this point. EVERYTHING that I had seen had an explanation, but this didn’t. This was either staged or supernatural – in my mind, there was no other explanation.

Maria went on her way and when we got inside Regina closed the door, sat Maria down and turned on the lights. In that order.

“Maria… do you want to go get us a new birth certificate and a pen? We can’t seem to find the one we’re looking for. You know you want to, you really do, so why don’t you?”

She stood up, Maria, and just left by herself wandering the corridors.

“Regina, what in the world is going on?” I asked, still a bit freaked out by what I was experiencing.

“Why?” She responded smiling.

“You… she… You hypnotized her! She’s a zombie! Look at her! What’s going on?!? You told me that’s bullshit! You with your own words told me that’s complete bullshit!”

“Well you asked me if I can hypnotize people.”

“Yes, I did… and you said no!”

“And that’s true! I can’t! Now relax.”

“Then what the fuck do you call this? And don’t tell me you’re just being good at convincing people, because this isn’t…” and I was interrupted by Maria which had just returned with a brand new birth certificate, stamped, not filled in, and with a nice pen.

Regina gave me both the paper and the pen.

“Have fun.”

I literally filled in my own birth certificate, and dated it with one year prior to my actual birth year. Here it is.

The birth certificates don’t need to look old, and actually most of them are brand new because a lot of people are exchanging their old ones which have “The Socialist Republic of Romania” as you can see from my old birth certificate with newer ones (as you can see above), issued after ’89 which aren’t marked like that anymore, for obvious reasons. Even if this wouldn’t have been the case, it still doesn’t need to look old. You can exchange your old certificate for a new one whenever you want, if you fear it is deteriorated, plus, what we really wanted was the original to remain as a record, which can be checked, and a copy – which doesn’t need (obviously) to be old – just legitimate.

By the time I was done, Regina was convincing Maria that she (Maria) really needs to go home and take a nap because she really wants to go home and take a nap… circular logic, yeah, that always works, because fuck logic, right?

Maria stood up, actually called my name and said goodbye, and left. I was left with mouth open, eyes wide open, speechless. Regina was almost laughing.

We put the original where it should be, in the appropriate section, year and letter, shut the lights off and closed the door.

After that we went straight up to the initial person (Iuliana was her name) that we spoke with, I went there, as instructed, told the lady that nobody can be found to help me with a copy of my birth certificate. An original copy that is, which isn’t a photo-copy, but a hand written, second piece of paper, copied directly from the original birth certificate. This is what records are for.

Everyone has his own birth certificate at home – which generally if you lose, means a lot of trouble – but not the end of the world, because the records are there, hard to access (apparently) but can provide you with a new birth certificate.

The lady went down by herself, saw that Maria is missing, and after 10 minutes of searching she decided to go in by herself, extract the birth certificate, make a copy and then, with a really pissed off look that I made her do all that work, handed me a new birth certificate, urging me to never, ever lose my birth certificate again, and nicely asking me to pay the fee.

I did, I said thank you, and I left.

I now had two birth years, two names, two sets of parents. I was legitimately, verifiable, two persons.

How we managed – how she managed – to do this, was yet to be explained.

She did, promptly as we returned home. And that will be the vampire secret that this whole series of posts is all about.

How they really make you do something you have no idea of.

This might be just the most important thing I’ve ever said in this blog, and it’s funny, because it’s such a natural and a human thing, and so obvious, and yet we call it supernatural and make movies about it….

Where Am I?

You are currently browsing the stories category at they live among us - not seeing does not equal not existing.

%d bloggers like this: