December 11, 2012 § 25 Comments
As soon as I opened my eyes the crying stopped.
I looked around and except the fact that there was a great deal of rumbling going on from the wind that picked up outside, everything seemed normal. The first muscle that I tensed, not moved, just tensed, Regina opened her eyes too.
“Let’s go.” That’s all she said. No good morning, no how are you.
“Did you hear that?” I asked instead.
“No. What?” Regina answered lazily.
“The… baby?” I reluctantly said.
“Crying baby?” She answered.
“Yeah. You heard it too?” I asked again.
“No, but I woke up a minute ago and heard you doing shooshing sounds as if you were trying to calm down a crying baby. I think you were dreaming.” She put my fears to rest. But it felt really, really vivid, and I didn’t remember any dream about any baby. I remember I woke up and was consciously awake without opening my eyes, and I remember there was a crying baby.
I didn’t say anything else and we both stood up and shivered and hugged ourselves and then one another.
And with that we started zipping up layer after layer of clothes. Onions. It was already as cold inside as outside and I’m surprised to this day we didn’t freeze to death in any of those nights, during sleep.
It was so damn cold you could hear everything cracking. Rocks, our own skin and entire forests cracking and screaming at us… forests which we got rid off after the first few miles… the island became barren and lifeless. Nothing grows inland, nothing. Nothing should be alive there. It’s un-natural and we were but an anomaly that nature was desperately trying to fix.
It was still dark outside. Actually, it was mainly always dark except for 3-4 hours in the middle of the day between 10 and 14. We really, really shouldn’t have chosen the middle of the winter to go there.
In Siberia (and we were north of it) temperatures become so cold that trees explode, blue sparks fly from falling timber, mercury freezes and exhaled breath is transformed into a shower of ice crystals called “the whisper of the stars”.
Initially I didn’t know for how long we would have to walk. Regina thought we would need to go just (and just is a strong word) 10km inside the territory, from the shore, but we ended up going more than 30km in one direction because of the spot where we got left off. One thing always remained in my mind during the whole thing: Who the hell is going to pick us up?
The very few hours of dim light that we had that day were also the hours that showed us the immense whiteness and bareness we were going deeper into, and with each step, the trees were getting shorter, sparser and the snow was getting harder, taller. Everything was telling us to go back, every fiber of our bodies. Nature didn’t want us… but that’s just the thing, we were used to that feeling. I grew up with it my whole life, and Regina… she was the most un-natural thing by our standards, and I’m sure she felt a hint of what I was feeling too.
These were the last familiar shapes we would see. From here on there was nothing but white, endless flatness.
We were just past a small patch of trees when the snow started getting really, really heavy. We had to stop and clear a little patch of our own, a patch of snow, make some sort of a ditch to hold it off so we can have space to maneuver and put on these small little ski-like things to help us move more easily. We put them on, Regina looked like a cat with shoes on, she paced back and forth a few times trying to get the hang of it and before I knew it she got further and further and then disappeared into the trees behind me.
She came back shortly from the other side, all giddy and much faster.
“I think I got it!” She announced.
“Good.” I answered.
“Now let’s move, I’m freezing already.” I added.
We must have walked for another few hours when, after sundown, the mother of all snow-storms started, one of many, and even though both of us still felt like going more, we still had a bit more energy, we were forced to take shelter. This wasn’t a decision that we took rationally, more like forcibly. The wind and snow were blowing so hard in our face that we just had to lie down and start digging in the snow. There were no more rocks, there were no more woods. All that remained was pure white snow and glaciers. We dug ourselves inside the snow and formed in under 10 minutes a little space inside. We sealed off the entrance and stood there in the dark, all wrapped and tangled with each other.
There was no food for today, there was no nothing. We just stood there and waited for the storm to pass.
It was a couple of hours until it passed and meanwhile, we also managed to catch a bit of sleep, if even half an hour of it. I was once away awakened by really disturbing noises of children crying. I was having a recurring nightmare. To top it off, this time I remembered the whole dream. Wether it’s relevant to the story or not, something was happening in my head. I dreamed of the baby crying, it was me. I saw myself as a baby. I saw my mother as a young girl. I saw the two shapes of a human with their faces white as chalk and their eyes dark as tar. I saw them picking me up and closing in towards my face. I saw myself being terrified out of my bones, I saw and heard myself crying like no baby has every cried before. It was the kind of cry you hear a baby let out when he’s born. It was as scary for me as being born was. We don’t remember our moment of birth, of course we don’t, but I would pretty much bet that if we could, it would be a terrifying experience.
Nonetheless, nightmare or not, every single minute of sleep was important. After the snow passed a really eerie silence fell over the whole area, it felt like literally we were the only living beings in the whole universe.
You cannot imagine how dark such a night up there can be, especially when it’s very clouded and not a single shred of light passes through the clouds. No stars. No moon. It literally is like you’re blind-folded. Nonetheless, we had to stop and eat.
“So tell me…” I let out while still chugging in a hot tea.
“Where are we actually going? How do you even know where we’re going?” I added.
“Well we have this…” She said, and she pulled out a small rudimentary GPS unit. Don’t imagine anything with maps, colored or with a touch screen. No. It was the kind that only displays hard data, such as a compass, coordinates, altitude and others. Analog display.
“It’s not working.” I observed.
“It’s frozen.” I added.
“So now what?” I asked.
“Well we’re close anyway, all we have to do is keep the direction.” She responded.
“That still doesn’t answer my question. Where are we going?” I pushed.
“I don’t know really… I only managed to get this location out of pure… logical deduction.” She responded.
“The tale that I told you about, it speaks of magic numbers…” Regina said.
“Magic?” I responded, feeling a bit confused.
“Well of course it’s not magic. But it’s a tale. What do you expect?” She responded with an appropriate answer for the expression on my face.
“In any case. Each number has a story and a function, and if met together, form different threads of fate.” She continued.
“This sounds like a tale, and I’m starting to regret coming here… We’re following a children’s tale for Christs sake!” I shrieked.
“It’s NOT a children’s story. Listen to this:” – And as she said that she pulled out a small notebook, opened it, leaned towards me and shone some light on it. In it, her handwriting. She pointed out at the last line.
So you see, as curios as one is, one thing is sacred and should never be broken. You must follow your heart and understand that there are good numbers and evil numbers, and the most evil of them all are 81 and 95. – I was confused.
“This doesn’t make any -” I was interrupted.
“Read on.” Regina said.
You must never let them meet, you must never let them see the light of day. You must not awake the evil which they hide.
“I… have no idea what you’re thinking about, but I call bullshit.” I said while taking the last sip of tea.
“Oh…” She sighed.
“81!” She screamed.
“95!” She screamed again.
“Never let them meet!” She was louder now and shrieked as standing up. Irritated that I didn’t understand.
“What the hell does that mean?!” I responded on the same tone while also standing up. We were preparing to leave.
“It means that 81 and 95 already meet!” She responded more calmly.
“What?” I was still confused.
“Latitude! Longitude!” She exclaimed.
Holy mother of everything warm she might just be right. I pulled out the map and looked at the last position the frozen GPS indicated. We were there. We were literally another days walk from the exact place where 81 and 95 meet.
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.
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.
“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).