back to my vampire roots. [story part 27]

March 18, 2012 § 2 Comments

We stayed in Sweden for more than a month and just… didn’t do anything special. Well, for you it might be special, but for me it kind of started to blur and each new day became more and more like the last.

I was amazed at first by Lars and his family but I soon got accustomed with it, and as for dinner like I mentioned earlier, well, let’s just say it wasn’t screaming.

We only stayed with them for about a week and then moved to a hotel and Regina kept being on and off for sometimes days in-between without seeing her. I figured I should just go home, but she was deterring me each time. Sure, Gotheborg was nice, but I missed home nonetheless.

Just under a month since we were in Sweden, around two in the morning, Regina burst into the hotel room all excited and cheerful. I wasn’t sleeping because, well, that’s another interesting story.

Everybody that is “normal” and is only forced to pull an all-night for studying or partying will strongly believe that the human nature is strongly against functioning night-time. Because they feel like shit.

But this is false. If you only do it once, yes, you feel like shit, but ask any person that works nights how is it, and each of them will tell you that “You get used to it.”

And you do get used to it. I was by now fully active and lively during the night and always sleepy and tired, my body telling me to go to sleep, during the day. I had my sleeping schedule fully inverted. So no, I wasn’t sleeping.

In any case, Regina burst into the room announcing.

“We’re leaving!” She was even happier than me that we were leaving by judging her expression.
“Awesome. Finally…” I replied.

“But where to?” I added.

“Well, you’re going home, I’m going to the end of the world.” And she giggled.
“I’m coming with you.” I immediately interjected.

“No, you’re not. It’s too far and if Sigismund is there, too dangerous.” Regina replied.

Well this was new, usually she kind of forced me to go with her or do different things, but now it was the other way around. She was sending me home. But, as any human, you want what you can’t have…

“Come on, it can’t be that far. Where is it?” I asked.

“No.” She said.

“No what?” I replied.

“No, don’t even think about it.” Yes, I was planning in following her ass. Although that would prove difficult, if not impossible.

“Come on, you drag me all this way, make me literally open tombs for you, and now you’re ditching me?”

“Things would be much easier and more accessible if you would just accept me already…” She was referring to the fact that I continuously denied her from turning me. It’s like she was possessed or something with this thing. Seriously, Viktoria made it abundantly clear that she, Regina, hasn’t turned anyone in hundreds of years, well, except Blanche which I forced her too, and now she was obsessed about turning me.

You only know, from the story, about the only time she tried doing it and I refused, but trust me, she tried each and every time we were together. I won’t turn this story into a “fantasy romance” novel and just provide sex scenes each second post, but trust me, I was her main food supply, and she rarely fed without it.

Every third of fourth night, we had to fight over the fact of why I don’t want to be turned.
I… I had a lot of arguments against it.

Here’s what I told a reader about it:
Even sick, even in pain, it’s never an easy decision to make. Try thinking more about the implications behind it, other than “yay no death”. Movies romanticize it and make it look like a blessing, but it’s not. And it’s not romantic. There’s nothing nice about it and you can never, ever  make peace with the idea of murdering humans to keep yourself alive.

Regina was an angel and yet she left a trail of bodies over the centuries. A genocide if you wish, and she was haunted by each and every face, every day. She had thousands of drawings, photos and notes, names and everything, with almost every human life she’d ever taken. You wouldn’t want to be in her head not even for a second. It’s not a blessing.

Most of them just shut down, go into nothingness, they just stop feeling. But that’s stopping almost everything. You can do that as a human also, but harder. You just become a sociopath, with no feelings. That’s no way to live eternity.

And no, you don’t get used to it. There are things that you get used to, but manslaughter isn’t one of them. You’re either a serial killer, or you’re not. It’s not something you learn over time.

Yes, you can feed without killing, but more than often you’re forced to, otherwise you would expose you and your entire kinship to that human. Some humans accepted it better than others, some thought nothing of it and were allowed to walk freely. They had no idea how close to death they even came.

My relationship with Regina was weird. We were together, but not really.
We would at times, stay in the same apartment, and I would sleep in one room while she was in the other room with another human being, feeding on him, which more than often involved sex, and then in the early hours of the morning coming next to me as if nothing happened. And I learned to accept that, but it’s never easy sleeping with your back to a person who just drained someone of every drop of blood just a few meters away from you, and who still smells like iron and copper, not even mentioning she just had sex with that very same one.

But who was I to judge? I was happy she came, every time, and sleep with me. And maybe if in her place, I would have done the same as she did. And maybe if like her, we would have done it together.

So from all those movies and books that one sees and reads, the picture is very much distorted. Nobody goes around sipping blood from a glass all day long just as easy as he would buy it from a store. Hospitals don’t supply blood as easy as you think, they are out of it themselves anyway. Nobody has a full fridge of nice bags full of blood at their disposal and just heats them up in the microwave. That’s retarded.

Most of them have to feed straight from a human because I suspect, there’s more than blood what they are taking. I don’t know what else, but if you see the difference between a vampire who just fed on a human and one who just fed on human blood from a bag, you’ll understand. It’s ridiculously different, as if the feeding itself from a human offered something else, something invisible. I don’t know what.

And no, there’s no easy going around it. The whole “compelling” thing is a non-sense. There is a certain degree of hypnotic behavior or… influence if you wish, but it only goes as much as suggesting certain things, making some idea weigh more in one’s head… and I would guess it’s relative to the vampire’s charisma and age, and way of putting things, and not his pupils going big and just “hypnotizing someone”. That’s crap and doesn’t work. It would be nice, sure, it would mean almost no more human deaths, but it doesn’t exist, and people run and scream when bitten. I know I did.

And the ones that scream don’t stop until you either kill them or make them shut up in some other way, nobody just gets used with blood being drawn out by a monster from him. No girl just suddenly starts “feeling horny” and just “gives in” and starts liking it.

No. It’s horrifying to see and hear it and even more horrifying to see someone walking in the room and coming out in a bag. And it’s as horrifying for you doing it. Because if you can’t get used to it, you’ll forever be haunted by it, like Regina. But it’s either kill or be killed, and it sounds “logic” – but it’s not. Who gives you the right to murder thousands of people just so you can live. What makes you so much more important than them?

And many, many other things, make it a curse as much as a blessing.
No family (well, Lars did it, but he was pretty much a rare exception), no normal life, moving all the time, always hidden, no people to rely on, no true LIFETIME friends. Nobody to comfort you when it’s hard, nobody to hug you when it’s cold outside and you fall asleep in front of your TV.

No, when all those things above happen, you are just waking up, preparing to go out in the dark and the cold, and take yet another life. And it’s horrible each time, and all of them, all of them fight up until their last second. Those who do fight, they never stop squirming and fighting to get out from the clutches of the devil, but they never do. They fight until the end, without realizing that fighting it is the worst thing you could do.

So if you ask me why I refused, then I can only assume you’ve never seen a vampire feeding.
And then if you ask me so then, how could you sleep and love such a thing, then I can only assume you’ve also never seen how kind and loving one can be. It’s a paradox, at least for some of them, including Regina.

Demon by night, when they feed and hunt, angel by day, when they are just like you and me.
If there is a heaven and hell – then I tell you, from the bottom of my heart, that the “bouncer” has a really hard time deciding where a vampire will go. I could never decide where to send one, ever, and believe, I’ve tried.

It was official. I loved Regina. I loved the way she made me feel, you know, like life was worth it. Life was good.

I loved the way she looked like when she slept. I love the little birthmark she had on a hip, I loved her eyes, I loved everything. I loved her name, whatever it was, and I loved how I heard this song in my head every time I thought about her.

I also loved how she licked her lips sometimes before she started to speak, and mostly, I loved the way her laugh sounded. I loved her smile.

And as for becoming a vampire, well, some value life, even if it ends, more than eternity. I’m not saying I do, not, I had other reasons and this was not one of them, but life…

This is our life. It’s terrible and short and incredible and thin and beautiful… and none of us come alive out of it. And that’s ok, because it’s worth dying for. You know… life is worth dying for, that is my incredibly short, stupid but true and from the bottom of my heart meaning of life line, the only one that will ever be enough. It’s stupid to search for complex meanings and purposes in life.

Live it, live it like there is no tomorrow and live it until you realize it’s worth dying for, because trust me, you won’t realize that until you’re about to do just that, die for it, because it was so beautiful and so tragic in the same time. Die with a smile on your face, and accept, that the tragedy of dying, is a part of life itself, is a part of you, and that is the thing that makes life so intense in the first place. Knowing it will end.

I feel I digressed way too much from the story but I’ll continue anyway.

As soon as Regina once again made a point about how I should accept to be turned, I gave up and just told her that fine, I’ll go home, but I made sure that she saw I was more than angry, I was upset, at her.

That night she didn’t even came to the hotel and I couldn’t care less. I was on a plane even before sunrise and headed for home.
You might think that was childish of me, which I won’t argue against, because I was a child. And that was the point. I didn’t want to argue or push even more in this subject.

That was one big reason for me refusing the turning – I wouldn’t want to be a kid forever, no.
In any case, I arrived home that very same day, I was back in that small town where everything has started, I was back at seeing my friends. I forgot about Regina rather quickly, being overwhelmed by everything that I missed, but I soon realized that even back home, things were very much different and not like they used to be. Blanche had made sure to change them.

One vampire in one town could make all the difference in the world. Especially if it’s a small 35,000 inhabitants town.

the girl that is always waited for, but never waits for herself…[story part 17]

February 23, 2012 § Leave a comment

“It is you,” the monk said, and with that, stopped even his breath, in await for an answer.

Regina knew how to play each and every card, for she let the monks stir in their own emotions and thoughts, before providing an answer.

She looked questioningly at the monk, confused a bit.

The monk repeated the same phrase in Latin.

Regina said nothing again, and before I even knew it, the monk was trying to muster his words in yet another language.

Then, Regina, with an air of irritated aristocracy, blurted out:

“Eu sunt.”

“Ich bin.”

“I am.”

“Je suis.”

“Ego sum.”

“Jag är.”

“Sono io.”

And she kept going, faster and faster, one after another, language after language.
She must have said it in over thirty languages in total and with each one the monk opened his eyes and mouth wider and wider and stepped back further and further.

With each word Regina let out from under her breath, she also put a determined step forward, and the monk one backward.

She continued doing this heading for the entrance to the chapel.

She started walking towards the monks and the entrance to the chapel, with very determined paces, one, after another, after another. Step by step she took, made the monks tense even harder, each one pounding their faces like a tidal wave.

By the time she reached the entrance of the chapel she had run out of languages and continued to say:

“It is me and I can understand your petty languages. Now leave and let me be.”

She was really determined in making this monk have a heart-attack, or this is who she was, and I just didn’t knew it because she was different with me. I couldn’t tell. In any case, this episode really reminded me of the little excursion we had back at the monastery in my hometown. I giggled inside me, on the outside I tried keeping that same aristocratic air Regina had. It suited me and I liked it.

I followed, and they treated me as they treated her. With fear.

The monk that spoke was no more than twenty years old. He was the youngest monk I’ve ever seen. He was merely a young boy.
He followed us closely but cautiously.

“But you must see him…” he said.

Regina was still walking towards the end of the chapel.

“Who?” She responded. I was curios myself.

“The one before me.” The monk was quick with the answer.

She stopped short of two meters from the end of the chapel, which also held the crypt of Dracula.

“He still lives?” She asked with an amazed expression on her face.

“Yes, and he waited for your return for this long…” The monk added in fear.

I was getting the hang of what was going on here.

“Then I shall meet him now.” She responded.

She turned back and the monk led us quickly to a room outside the chapel and into the main building. The monk opened the door and retreated, leaving just the two of us in the room.

In the middle of the room there was a single massive double bed. Inside the bed was an old man, barely breathing, but perfectly conscious. His eyes sparkled at the sight of Regina and his mouth gasped for more air that he could hold.

“Hello…” she said smilingly approaching the bed. I stayed put.

“I have waited over seventy years for your sight once again. I do not know…” he trailed off.

“If you are an angel…” he looked shortly at me,

“Or a demon…” And Regina grabbed his hand and smiled towards him. The sunshine coming through the window above the bed was flowing down her dark curls and her smile that I couldn’t see but I knew it was there. She had an aura as I watched her from behind, the sun being occluded by her body.

For me, that truly looked like an angel, not a demon.
No demon would take pity in putting an old man’s fears and questions to rest, on his death-bed, so he could leave this world in peace.

“I am what god made me father, I do not need a purpose or a name, I am one of his children…” She was being kind with him and I knew it.

The old priest (monk?) smiled mildly and seemed very pleased with the answer. It was the answer he has been waiting for all of his life.

“I am what the Earth beneath my feet requires me to be, and I obey…” Regina added.

The monk nodded and Regina approached his forehead. My heart stopped for a second there but then, the monk closed his eyes and Regina kissed his forehead.

She reached for her pocket and gave him a little crucifix.
“You are free to go now father, your duty is complete.”

I almost started crying in seeing the kindness in her. She stood up and we both walked out of the room.
I perfectly knew that Regina was not a religious… being. She almost despised religion and considered it to be a plague upon mankind, yet she took the time to put an old monk to rest. She took the time to be kind with the ones who needed nothing else but kindness, for they were on the brink of death.

When she turned, her eyes too were short of a blink in letting a tear roll out. But they didn’t.

As soon as we left the room, the monk that led us there entered the room and closed the door after him. We continued on the hallway out of the building and towards the chapel. On our way she had told me that she met that old man when he was merely a young boy, not even twenty years of age, she had met him when she last visited this place. When she last visited her long-lost relative, Vlad Tepes.

And now, the cycle would repeat maybe, in a century, once more. For the monk that received us now was also barely twenty, and, maybe, in another seventy years time, she would return once again.

The monks had an entire book about her, which held sketches of her face, her body, and tales of how the angel returns once in a century, to seal the devil’s tomb on this Earth time after time.

When we got at the end of the chapel, she put her fingers around the edge of the crypt and was searching for a good place to pull the lid off. I didn’t see the purpose in doing that, but I was dying of curiosity.

The Romanian government had opened Vlad’s tomb years before, and I knew for a fact, with photos, that the tomb was empty. Except Vlad’s belongings, jewelry, a sword and other miscellaneous things, there was nothing. No bones, no clothes. Nothing. I remember that the monks refused to let anyone open it and barricaded themselves in the chapel. It took weeks for the government to be able to open the tomb and lots of monks died back then, they starved themselves, set themselves on fire or found other creative ways of opposing the opening of the tomb. The island as a whole, was strictly forbidden to outside interference, and only during a short period each year you could go visit, and that visit was strictly related to entering the chapel, seeing the tomb and leaving.

What I didn’t knew was that Regina had a little superstition of her own.
She deeply believed that nobody else inside the kinship, except her and Vlad himself, would dare open the tomb. She had always longed for the rumors to be true, she always wanted Vlad to be still alive. To be the father of all that she is.

She longed for his admiration and his return, she wanted him to return and be proud of what she is. She wanted him to see everything that she built, everything that was under her control, and how good she had dealt with human affairs over centuries and thousands of decisions.

For centuries, she had returned here and left a single drop of her own blood touch his long-lost sword. For she knew, that if someone would ever open this tomb, it would be him. And he would want what was once his. He would sense his own bloodline, he would sense the smell of his own offspring, and he would know then and there, that his blood still runs through the veins of the powerful.

So she did this religiously, and every once in a while, usually once every sixty or seventy years, she would do this.

She wanted me to know all this, and she wanted me to see that vampires too, have superstitions and beliefs, hopes and dreams, that were being crushed day after day, year after year, for centuries at a time.

She had put the lid back one, lit a candle on top of it and “sealed it” with a kiss, in front of the monks, for them to continue believing in their little miracle: the sealing of the devil’s tomb. With that we were on our way.

As we left the chapel the monks were flanking us on either side, watching us carefully and fearfully.

She kissed the young monk on the cheek and he gasped in the process, then she looked in his eyes and told him:

“Guard it with your life, wait for my return.”

He nodded and said nothing else in response.
And just like that, the monks shut themselves inside the chapel and allowed us to leave from where we came from. And we did.

I noted in my diary:

“This is how you scare a bunch of monks. You don’t go there and flash everything you’ve got at them, you go there and act like their deepest fear and in the same time, their most worshiped thing. You act like the devil and god himself, embodied in the same vessel. You act like Regina. You show yourself as a broken cup, glued back together. A cup made of mercy, kindness, smiles and light, but a cup filled with fear, that seeps through the cracks and shows its nature on the surface.”

We headed back to the car where the driver was soundly asleep. He woke up with Regina banging on his window and smiling. He sprung up in fear and immediately started straightening himself up once again.

I could see on Regina’s face that she was back in her comfortable self.
We set on the road once again and in no-time we were standing inside the Otopeni airport, in Bucharest.

The driver handed both of us two tickets and shook bowed his head towards us, and with that, and a sign of relief on his face, he was gone.
My ticket read: “Bucharest Otopeni (OTP) – Moscow Sheremetyevo (SVO).”

“Are you mad? I can’t go to Moscow!” I blurted out upon seeing that.

“Why not?” Regina asked me calmly. She wanted an answer and she looked like she would indeed agree to me not going, if I would provide a sound reason for it.

I stopped for a second… why shouldn’t I go really?

“I don’t have a VISA. Don’t I need a VISA to travel to Moscow? Plus I’m underage, I need a tutor.” I said.

“That’s been sorted out.” she replied.

She handed me my “new passport”.

We were brother and sister apparently, and we both had VISAS for Russia.

Christina and Johannes Alt.

Really. Very funny.

“Alt” means “Old” in German.

Born in Vienna, both of us.

I didn’t even wanted to know how she got a passport style photo of me. It was a photo I had taken a month before to hand in for the school to have what to put on diplomas and whatnot. I did hand them in but now I had a feeling I need to repeat the process because they “got lost”.

This was, by all means, movies for me. I truly believed this only happens in movies, not real life. I had to sit down for a moment and catch my breath. Regina was looking at me smiling, the same way you look at a small kid first discovering something very interesting for him, like seeing a plane taking off, but very common to the rest of the “adult world.”

“Fine.” I said.

And with that we both embarked on a flight to Russia.
We were there in no time and Regina looked at nothing else except out the window the whole flight.

The flight didn’t even took a whole three hours, but it was a very boring three hours. I wondered if she could jump out the plane and swim to Moscow safely, but the I remembered we’re not above sea.

We landed in Moscow.
Fear not Russia, for the storm has arrived I told to myself seeing as Regina was getting anxious and more stirred, like a storm preparing to unleash.

Hotel Ukraina receiving Regina

When we reached Moscow it was already pass midnight, it was now the 27th of May, 2005, and, sure enough a similar car was waiting for us, with a similar driver, yet less frightened and more comfortable.

Regina nodded at him and he opened the door for her. We hopped in and in after a short thirty minute drive we had arrived in front of a very impressive, very big, and very old looking style hotel.

It read: “Hotel Ukraina.”

I was impressed, but tired. The only thing that I wanted was a nice long bath and then a deep sleep cuddled next to Regina. But she had other plans…

…befriend a lost friend. [story part 15]

February 22, 2012 § 3 Comments

As soon as Viktoria left with Blanche, Regina urged everybody to leave, but she didn’t expect me leaving with them.

The actual monastery yard, the building on the left is the one in which the monks were that night

“You’re going with me.” She said.

“No, I’m not. I’m going home for now. If you want to stop me, this is your chance, but don’t tempt me.”

“Tempt you?”

“Don’t tempt me to hate you more, it’s enough hate for tonight. I might be scared for you but I’ll put a stake through your heart if you ever do that again to someone I care about.” I was damn serious about it, although I can’t really understand how I had the guts to say such a thing. Any other person would have had his head ripped off in that second, and any other vampire wouldn’t have said it in the first place, not in a million years.

Regina was a very, very dangerous being. You did not want to make her angry no matter what or who you were.

Still, she smiled and giggled at hearing that, but she duly received the message. Regina really wasn’t the kind of person to feel comfortable in having enemies, even though I was pretty sure she had thousands.

“Fine! Go back to your miserable life!” She was angry and for the first time I heard her say something resentful, emotions were stirring up in her. She wasn’t used to being refused… anything really.

So I did, I went back home with Sophia. We took Viktor’s car which was still in the parking lot twenty steps below Concordia, the cafe, and dropped Sophia home just as we did any other night, without even mentioning what happened tonight.

Viktor then dropped me home and we said goodbye without words, we just looked at each other for two seconds and he then nodded at me, in a sign of acceptance, a sign of understanding, a sign of letting me know that “it’s ok”.

And that was it. I don’t know what Regina did next, but the next day I went over there and the owners first held me under investigation about what happened there last nights, they heard screams but then they stopped so they decided not to intervene. I thanked god for that.

Then I asked them if I could go check up on Regina, thinking that she was sleeping, they said of course. The rooms were empty, as if nobody was ever there.

The floors were perfectly clear of blood, the sheets were clean and folded, everything looked as if nobody ever touched them. I knew then and there: Regina was gone.

I felt a hint of regret for a second, but then pulled myself together and forced myself to believe that she will be back, someday… I only hope it won’t be when I’m 70 years old and in a wheelchair.

School started back as planned, everything went back to normal. My home was as it was always, normal, quiet and peaceful. My mother never said a word more about Regina, and she seemed at peace with herself even before Regina leaving. Her only concern was me not being bitten anymore, she hated to see her child punctured all over. It reminded her of bad things, and I can’t blame her for that.

The occasional teasing from my brother every now and then about: “Where’s your new girlfriend? Already left you?” He had no clue what he was talking about, he never even met her and I was sure that if he would ever meet her, he would have the same reaction as I did. Run like hell, then fall in love.

School seemed boring for the first few days, I longed for Regina’s temperament, I couldn’t believe that I did, but it was true. I missed the excitement, the adventure, and even the fear that made my body feel alive, more than ever, every time she hissed at me. Fear has a very interesting work of working you know. It not only paralyzes you, but in the same time awakens every single sense in your body, turns your hearing sense up by a lot, makes you see better. Puts you in alert. Makes you shiver at the slightest touch, even a touch of a breath landing on your lips. Fear is a very strong feeling, up there with hate, anger and love. Love…

Sophia, Viktor and I talked about everything over and over again. Day in, day out, we would talk about everything. We were all waiting for the same thing though, seeing Blanche again.

We talked about Regina, Viktoria. They asked me so many questions about everything and I felt bad for not being able to explain everything like I should have. I constantly reminded them that they need to forget about it and get on with their life, my own life dependent on that also. Depended on them not talking about Regina with anyone else.

Surprisingly, Blanche was back within a week. Viktoria was nowhere to be seen, she wasn’t at her side. There was nobody there to make Blanche drop on her knees if the situation required it. I felt scared for all of our lives, especially because the fact that Blanche just entered the class-room nonchalantly in a Monday morning, excusing herself to our lead-teach (I don’t know how it is in other countries, but back home we have a teacher for each subject, and we also have a “main teacher” that’s sort of our coordinator, which also teaches us one of the subjects, we call him a “diriginte”  which is derived from the french “dirigent”, meaning to conduct, or orchestrate.

Anyway, she excused herself for “being terribly sick” for the past sick and handed in a written excuse signed by her parents. I wondered how did she pull that off.

She sat next to me, I forgot to mention but she was my desk mate. Is that how you call it?

In Romania in high school we sit two-by-two, not alone in our desk. We do this for several reasons, there’s a lot of teamwork and we are usually the team. A desk mate is kind of your best-friend also, but sometimes two desks close together form sort of a little group, that’s what we were.

Anyway, she sat next to me and just smiled with a deep, evil smile on her face. The kind of smile that said “I’ll deal with you later.” I felt shivers all over my body, then she did the same thing with Viktor and Sophia.

We looked at each other and said absolutely nothing through the whole class. When the bell rang, the three of us instantly jumped her, assaulting her with questions. We soon realized everybody was listening so we went where we usually went to get a private talk.

In the cemetery. It takes only thirty seconds to get there and it was the main break, meaning we had a good 15 minutes to discuss anything. Blanche complied and came with us willingly, smiling all the way.

When we did get there, she looked at us and finally started speaking, but instead answering our questions she looked at me and said:

“I could never repay you, only now I understand what it means to get this gift from my queen herself.” I felt at ease, she was already calling Regina her queen, that meant submission from her part, but I was also at ease because sooner I had the feeling she secretly hated us now. Which she didn’t.

She radiated with happiness and kept smiling non-stop, which turned creepy at some point. I couldn’t understand how a person can be that happy, but she was.

Blanche was the one to explain very, very much of what’s written in this blog. Details, small things that Regina didn’t care or didn’t want to explain, Blanche was as curios as me and wanted to dismantle everything to the last detail.

She was proud of what she could do and what she was, and over the next few weeks she managed to turn all of us from day lovers into night owls. She felt much more comfortable at night and we understood, and we just switched everything that we did in reverse. So we had more time after sundown, and not before. It was an easy thing to do and  a low price to pay for everything that I learned.

We had a lot of amazing days, some better than others, but the thing is that we felt more secure with her than ever. I was afraid, before she came back, that she would be someone else, that she would turn evil and cruel. But I was wrong. Blanche was exactly the same person I knew before leaving, and she had the same way of thinking.

Only difference is that she looked and felt much more lively, happy and with a general mood that put us, in our best days, to shame.

Blanche constantly refused to do or speak of anything in front of Sophia and Viktor. She didn’t hide who she was, because they already knew, but she did anything possible not to boast in front of them or not to reveal anything new. She knew the stakes and she obeyed religiously to the Codex Strigis which amazingly, she knew almost by heart, all of it, and she didn’t even speak Latin as well as I did, although you could have a small conversation with her in Latin.

Blanche did however, showed us a lot of things that were both amazing and unbelievable in the same time. For example, she showed us how to hunt.

While in the forest above the town, an old forest which is a natural reservation these days, called “The Breite Plateau”, which has, among other things, 800 year old oak trees that are still alive to this day.

While there, she managed to identify, sneak behind and catch a rabbit in under one minute. She didn’t kill it because Sophia already went “awwwwww” when she saw it, so Blanche let it go but looked at it vanish in the woods with a sense of remorse or regret. I knew she longed for a taste of that rabbit, although they do not enjoy and cannot survive solely on animal blood, Blanche wasn’t really used in hunting people. I couldn’t imagine her in that position no matter how hard I tried.

On the same lines, Blanche constantly fed from the three of us, willingly giving to her. We did it on a daily basis, rotating between us, and some days she refused, hinting that she got it from someplace else. She usually bit shoulders, and it didn’t hurt one bit. Viktor actually started enjoying it but we all knew this was a temporary situation, and Blanche knew that too well, and before we even knew it she started refusing more often, hinting that she had started mastering the art of hunting… something else.

We didn’t know and didn’t care what and how she did it, there were no news of dead people in the papers and that was good. Sophia asked her if she’s killing anymore and Blanche raged about what kind of person do we think she is. A vampire, Viktor replied calmly from behind us while playing on the XBOX.

Blanche smiled at hearing that, she wasn’t mad.

Anyway, as you can see, the post above is a summary of a longer period, not just a few hours, not just one single event.
It was over the course of several months, and it was a period just like your normal teenage life, with a twist.

There were four kids, who seemed perfectly normal. We did everything a normal kid would do, but we had a double life.
It’s not that uncommon, to have a double life. Lots of people have double lives, almost everybody. You go to work, you’re the responsible, clean-cut, and friendly adult, then, when you get off work, you go home and just stay around the house in shorts, eating junk food and watching TV, cursing at the game or whatever. That would be considered a double personality in my opinion.

We were just like that, normal kids in society and then, when by ourselves, we were those kids who had a secret.

It seemed rather awkward for me that Viktoria just let Blanche be herself, like that, after a week. But why shouldn’t she? Blanche seemed perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and us, in the same time.

It certainly made life more interesting having Blanche around us in this state. She was exactly like before, our friend, not changed a bit, but with that small difference that counted immensely when needed. It was the small things.

But, as all kids, we were prone to fucking up, and we did, eventually. On several occasions.

On one particular instance, on a movie evening we had planned at the start of April, we were at Sophia’s place who lived in a two story house, placed up on a hill across the valley, on the other side being the hill of the citadel. Her house was close to the monastery, which is just your typical monastery, not too big, not too small.

We had planned on watching a horror flick, but instead of doing that, Sophia came with a much better idea. Or at least that’s what it seemed at the time. We were feeling pranky (is that a word?) that night and decided to pull one off at the monastery.

“Hei, let’s make our own horror movie!” Sophia said.
“I think we already have one…” I replied, looking at Blanche who hissed in a funny way, making a parody of the infamous hiss you hear before feeling that bite. She was laughing and we all laughed with her, it was like a bad imitation of Dracula.

“No, I mean let’s go scare some people off. Like, Blanche doing that for real.” Sophia said.

We all stopped for a second. Blanche looked at me seriously and then said:

“You all know I can’t do that…”

“Actually Blanche, it says that you can’t make yourself fully known, willingly, to any human. Flashing your stuff for a second doesn’t really count as fully.” I was being stupid again and I knew it.

Viktor said nothing. He kind of wanted to see the result but was afraid to intervene in order not to say something that would cancel the whole thing.

“So what do you propose then?” Blanche said.

“Well… I really hate hearing that fucking bell from the monastery each morning at six, so I think it’s only fair to scare the shit out of them, not that they would stop the bell, but it would make me feel better, and the look on their faces would be priceless.” She was actually right, I was, by now, totally into doing that.

Blanche’s eyes went blank for a second and she looked like she was turning the matter from side to side, searching for any cracks. She couldn’t find any, but there were plenty.

“I’m not hungry and I’m not angry at the monks either…” She was referring to the fact that she couldn’t just go into a frenzy just like that.

“I’m always looking for a reason to kiss you!” Viktor exclaimed cheerfully from behind us. He was silent until now but this one thing cracked us all up and let the tension flow out from us for a bit. We laughed and then went silent again.

“So let’s do it.” Blanche finally said.

In no time, Sophia was dressed fully in black, with a hoodie on her head. Blanche was almost always dressed in black.
However, Viktor and I were wearing somewhat of a flashy color, we both had green T-shirts, and, with the weather allowing us, we decided to go shirtless.

In five minutes we were at the monastery gates which were locked from the inside, the lock having a protective layer of cast iron around it, on the inside, so you couldn’t cut or break it even if you could put your hand through the bars.

Blanche didn’t even waste a second and in no time she threw herself at a tree, and then bounced back towards the wall from that tree, hanging with her hands from the wall. She pulled herself up and was over the wall in a second. It was like seeing a parkour master in action, and it wasn’t anything supernatural. It was just a combination of strength and technique. She was aware she couldn’t yet jump that high, so she improvised.

She didn’t seem to have any problems with the chain though, she ripped it with her bare hands, although she needed both of them, and her whole body, pulling on it and screeching in the process. It was a hard thing to do and it was obvious this was no supernatural movie. Her hands even bled afterwards, but healed quickly.

She licked them both, of her own blood, with Viktor looking at her disgusted.

“Want some? You look pale.” She said mockingly at Viktor who laughed and took her under his arm in a “come here you…” friendly way.

I wondered at that time what does it taste for them, what does blood actually taste. Does it taste as good as a cake does for me? Does it taste better? What is the actual feeling of tasting it, through their point of view?

For me, it was disgusting. Blood, I knew it tasted… Well I didn’t know the exact taste, but I imagined it being disgusting.

Now, as I’m writing this, I remember Regina once speaking about it. It was about the time when I made it clear it would be hard for me to renounce what I am and accept to be turned, and I offered the argument of eating blood, forever.

And she kindly explained that different types of blood taste as good and as different as foods taste for me.
I doubted it, and she explained that:

“You are under the impression that just because the human civilization considers itself as being advanced, because of the technology it creates, it really is. Well I am here to tell you, that just because we’re (the kinship) ancient, we’re more advanced in some areas, than the human civilization.

For example, your medics hold it so dearly that they are the know-everything, that they are on the verge on unlocking the secret to eternal life, to healing diseases. They use state-of-the-art technology and yet, fail miserably.”

I remember she had a pretty big speech about it and felt pretty proud saying it, and at the end, to make my point here, she noted:

“Your dear doctors live under the false impression, regardless of all their technology, that there are a mere four or five types of blood. And that’s it.” She said.

“There are hundreds.” She added.

I gasped. Could that be possible? But how? How could it be possible and undiscovered?

“How do you know?” I asked.

“I tasted them all.” She replied.

And then and there I understood that blood could be, for them, as flavored as different kinds of pizzas or ice-creams can be for us.
Yet, I found it hard to believe, that there could be so much many more blood types than we know.
I mean, we’re trying to unlock the secrets of genetic engineering and we don’t even have a clue about how many blood types there are? That’s preposterous!

Anyway, I digressed.
Back to the monastery story:

The plan was to break into the monastery, go into the main hall, we knew the inside because we already had visited this place countless times, it was open for tourists during the day.

Once in the main hall, it was pretty simple, Blanche kisses Viktor, me and Sophia watch, and when any monk appears, Blanche stops kissing Viktor and growls as loud as she can towards the monk. Then we run. And laugh.

It was the most stupid thing we could think of and I was pretty sure that, if Regina was here, she would have a seizure out of anger, and Blanche was also aware that if Viktoria would know, she would surely break at least a few bones in her body.

But they weren’t.

We kept talking and laughing all the way into the monastery and by the time we reached the main prayer hall, we realized that it was almost packed full.

It was full of monks.
At that point I remember we, including me, wanted to back out, but Sophia was very determined in scaring the monks. So she urged Blanche to push forward, and we followed.

We stood right in the hallway, and we needed a very creepy but effective way of getting at least a bunch of them out from the room and into the hallway.

The hallway was sort of an open hallway. Imagine two rooms, with an arch as a door between them. Now imagine in the left room, a wall that doesn’t go all the way from on side to the other, it just splits the left room, vertically, into two equal sized hallways. As such, one could cross the doorway and continue going, then take a left and end back from where he started, without going through the same spot twice.

So we did. Blanche and Viktor stopped before crossing the doorway, and Sophia took off all her clothes, shoved them in my hand, giggled and slowly crossed the doorway, dragging her feet behind her.

I remember I thought, at the time: “This is bad. This is very bad.” and “She’s seen to many movies, way too many movies.”

But it was effective, Blanche started kissing and hugging Viktor in the second she saw that and I could see Viktor opening his eyes widely all of a sudden. I knew what that meant, I knew he just felt the extending by now fangs. Blanche was already growling softly, like a purring cat.

Sophia’s “intervention” was effective. Almost instantly there were voices and waves of different mangled sounds coming from the prayer room and I could hear the steps of monks headed towards the doorway in a hurry. This was it.

About ten or more monks came out through the door in the same time, and when they saw the two kissing they stopped suddenly and said: “What are you doing here?! THIS IS A MONASTERY!”.

They figured it was a porn movie maybe, seeing Sophia naked, and then seeing these two lovebirds…
Man they were wrong.

Blanche didn’t stop kissing Viktor and the monk put his hand on Blanche’s shoulder in a gesture to try and pry the two apart but almost instantly, like a spider feeling the vibrations in the air, with an amazing speed, Blanche switched from Viktor’s mouth to the monk’s hand and bit him hard.

The monk started screaming like hell, the other monks stood back a bit and when Blanche released, she remembered what she actually needed to do, so, with a bit of extra added effect, her mouth being now covered in blood and her eyes deep black with that distinctive reddish tint, she opened her mouth, exactly like in Hollywood style movies, cocked her head towards all of them and let out such a gruesome roar that I had to literally cover my ears.

By god I had no idea Blanche, or any of the kinship, could do that. It was like she grew extra vocal cords. She sounded like a lion and a bat with that specific high-pitch screech in the same time.

And she managed to keep it up for over ten seconds.
I could see the colors on the monks faces changing through a variety of pallets, from white to blue, green and yellow, then back to white.

Some of them instantly dropped to their knees and started praying to all kinds of deities, the one bit by Blanche was still screaming, now even louder.

Two monks either fainted or had heart-attacks and only one of them threw himself towards Blanche screaming “Demons!” in the process. Blanche dodged him with a very elegant move and let him land on the floor behind her like a man jumping in an empty pool.

She laughed loudly for a few seconds, looked at me and then we ran.

Blanche didn’t run faster than us, she made sure we all got out safely and we were all together. We planned on running all the way to Sophia’s house and we kept laughing in the same time. It’s exhausting you know, to run and laugh in the same time.

I don’t know from where and how, but while we were running, from four people, we turned into five.
I looked behind me to see if someone is following, and then when I turned my head around, in the process, I noticed someone running along my right side, who wasn’t there before.

I looked amazed at it and then saw the distinct smile and heard that voice you can’t forget.

“Very funny…” It was Viktoria.

We didn’t stop running all the way to Sophia’s house and we all quickly went inside except Viktoria which was at the doorway looking angry towards us…

“Oh! That’s right! You can’t come in!” Sophia said excitedly.

“Don’t tempt me…” Viktoria said.

“I’ll let you in if you promise not to punish Blanche, it was my idea!” Sophia said again.

“I promise.” Viktoria said.

“Then please, be my guest.” Sophia said, and urged her to enter with a hand gesture of welcome.

Viktoria instantly burst into the house at a high velocity and before we knew it Blanche was writhing in pain on the floor.

Viktoria was above her looking menacing towards us.

“You lied! I resent your invitation!” Sophia said, but nothing happened.

Sophia didn’t knew, but the invitation, once given, cannot be withdrawn. Viktoria didn’t show any expression and just looked towards us to see if we were reacting.

Blanche was still hissing and growling and writhing in pain on the floor. In a quick move, apparently, Viktoria did indeed break a lot of bones in Blanche’s body.

Blanche puked blood, had maybe three or four broken ribs, a broken leg and her right arm was in a zig-zag, broken in three or four places.

It took a full week for Blanche to recover fully and a constant supply of food from the three of us. Remember, Blanche was still more human than vampire. She was a moroi, and inferior rang vampire, and she would continue to be that for the long years to come. She was a vampire but she still continued to eat and drink just like us, although increasingly more rarely, focusing more and more on blood. She was still prone to aging and wounding herself in the coming years.

After things settled down that night, Viktoria handed me an envelope and said:

“From Regina.”

I took the envelope and put it in my pocket, planning on reading it alone, at home. At the time I was more concerned about not escalating the situation with Blanche which was still on the floor. She requested to remain there until she feels up to walking, that took almost the whole night. Sophia’s parents were sleeping and didn’t wake up to any of this, Blanche was gone by morning, everything turned out ok, in that direction.

But other directions went wrong.

In any case, it seemed a weird coincidence that Viktoria popped out just like this. How did she even knew where we were?

Apparently, after a very delicate questioning, she had been stalking Blanche for the past week, and was pleased how she was doing, until tonight, when she decided to finally intervene. It didn’t seem like a coincidence so much now.

Needles to say, Blanche was only partially guilty of this, we had pushed her, and we would do it soon enough again.
But for now, I will refrain in telling you that the night ended in Viktoria breaking another finger of Blanche’s left arm, trying to make a point. Telling her:

“I’m always going to watch you, don’t forget that.”

And with that she thanked Sophia for the invitation, making a small hint that if she was ever in town again and feeling hungry….

Sophia shivered. Joked about stacking garlic around her windows and doors, although she knew that did nothing.

With that Viktoria urged me to read the letter as soon as possible, and left like any normal being, calling a cab. Go figure.

As soon as she left we continued to laugh and Blanche, even though in a lot of pain, felt giddy, laughed with us and didn’t feel sorry for doing it not even for a second. She was laughing in pain, on the floor.

I went home with Viktor, but Sophia assured us she’ll be fine. She was, a week later.

The next day when I woke up, the first thing I did was call Blanche, and after being pleased with hearing she’s fine, I opened the letter and started reading it.

It made my day a very clear blue skies day, although I could see dark clouds holding their position on the horizon, ready to strike at any time.

It was a letter from Regina.


Now, you have to understand, that this part of the story doesn’t necessarily add anything new or of relevance to the story, or to the point I’m making, but the fact is that this is not a book, this is not a story with a beginning, a plot, a conflict, a culminating point and an end. It’s a story with ups and downs, because it is real life. And real life has that, it has boring days and intense days.

I didn’t really need to put this in, I could have just skipped to the next important part, but I won’t do that. It was and still is, a funny part, showing you that not everything was grim or supernatural, or had to do with killings or anything out of the ordinary. we were just some kids pulling a prank, but again, with a small twist.
I have decided to give you each and every detail that has to do with the subject of this blog. The only thing that I do is explain in detail the main events, and condense the other periods (longer periods with little to no relevance) into shorter posts, like this one.

And if by any chance, you are thinking of leaving a comment about “how are you posting this thing about the monastery, aren’t you afraid of the police, wasn’t there investigations, etc.?” my response is that no. there was no police investigation, there was nothing. the monks never said anything to anyone and we never heard about the incident, not from the media, not from anyone.

there’s no danger in putting this here because, even in the case of one of those ten monks actually reading this, there’s no way he can prove what happened in reality, or he can prove that I was actually there.

We were young then and we look different now, we all got older and passed in the adulthood sides. Viktor has a beard for fuck’s sake.

Where Am I?

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