the town that was once peaceful [story part 31]

September 15, 2012 § 6 Comments


Blanche wasn’t answering her phone and this wasn’t like her. I immediately knew something was up, although not something necessarily bad. I wasn’t that stressed out about it, and this wasn’t a novel. However, something must be going on if Blanche wasn’t answering her phone. Everybody knew that. She was the “phone whisperer”. She was always the one to call all of us, connect the four of us, hold us together, and we relied on her for being available all the time, day or night. She didn’t fail on doing just that. However, Blanche was not exactly Blanche anymore so I didn’t knew what to think of it. I needed to talk to her regardless.

I didn’t leave right away, I figured she might be still sleeping, I patiently waited for nightfall minding my own business, calling Sophia and telling her to meet me at Blanche’s place at around 20:00, she also told me that she tried contacting Blanche and got no answer.

Later on, I got dressed, told my parents where I was going and left in a hurry. Two minutes later I was already regretting the decision of walking over there and not taking a cab. It was freezing as hell.

Nonetheless, by the time I got to the house I was already having three or four scenarios in my head, about how Blanche would react seeing us, if she missed us, how she will behave, if she’s changed and that sort of thing.




I was in front of the house, door wide open. Something is amiss.
I rushed inside the house fearing the worst. I feared Sophia has been hurt. I didn’t even think a second about Blanche being hurt. I already saw her as the invincible one among us.

As soon as I entered the house, sweet sourly and irony smell overwhelmed me. Blood. I knew that smell all too well.

Blood everywhere, blood in the kitchen, blood in the living room, three finger tops cut straight on the table. I got sick. Sick at my stomach, not because of the smell, not because of the sight of three fingers, because of the thought that one of my friends could be hurt. Or worse…

Loud bangs and voices from upstairs. Blood running up the railway, walls, carpets.

I ran upstairs and at the end of the stairs laid Blanche with her throat just ripped apart, barely breathing, if any breathing at all. All fingers in place. It must have been someone elses fingers. A man’s fingers. I knew hear heart was still beating, because there was blood still pumping out of her neck with each heartbeat. I saw her heartbeating you could say. I didn’t knew what to do, which was no surprise.

Take her and run. Go towards the screams and bangs. Decisions, decisions.

I recognized the voices once I got closer, I knew all too well it was Blanche’s parents who were screaming.

Fuck that. I’m out of here. I don’t even want to know who did this, but if it happened to Blanche, then I’m an easy target.

No, said destiny, and pushed me down the stairs, jumping at me from somewhere in the direction of the screams. Destiny was redheaded vampire named… I didn’t ask.
Over the rail, spin, hand at my throat, *thud*.

I felt the hard floor underneath me and that was it. I was out of air. The strength of that fall has taken away my ability to breathe. Just like you first jump into cold water, your body shuts down, your lungs refuse to take in any more air. Your thoracic diaphragm muscle refuses to cooperate anymore.

Above me, mouth wide open, fangs, bloodshot eyes, was a rather skinny redhead man, with a scruff and a burning desire to end me. I don’t need air. I need a mouth guard.

He was between 35 and 40, actually he looked that age, hell knows what was his real age, and he also was a lot stronger than me, that was for sure.

He leaped for my throat, face, shoulder, anything to bite on really, and by instinct I just stuck my hand inside his mouth. Bite on that Lassie.
Ah that was going to leave a scar, like the other one I got in the days where all this started. I think I still have a photo of the latter. Let me see.

Here we go:

Sorry if you were expecting something more spectacular, not just yet. Just an old scar.

The look in his eyes of me not being surprised by what he is was? Priceless. Offered me the upper hand. He didn’t know, or wasn’t sure of who I was and how come I was making no attempt at running. I guess he was used to people seeing his eyes and fangs, and then immediately proceed on running for their lives. I wanted to do that a minute earlier, but since he changed my mind (read as: threw me from upstairs) I was in for a fight.

I was no match for a true vampire, but this guy, he wasn’t that old. I had learned to sniff them out, based on the look in their eyes, based on the confidence they inspire.  He was no assassin, he was no problem fixer. He was more of someone little helper, doing errands and whatnot.

In the begginings I always pondered about how is it that vampires immediately know amongst themselves who is older than who, but now I was starting to get the hang of it. Given, it could be faked, if wanted. You could fake you’re younger, anytime, but rarely managed to pull of a strategy to make you seem much older than you actually were.

Willpower, composure, luck, call it what you want, but countless hours of training with Regina were kicking in, and I felt I had a chance there.

Aim for the eyes. Aim for the eyes. – Regina’s voice – In my head.
I punched him in the nose, with my forehead, and with that he let go of my left arm to push my face back down. That was all I needed. A left arm and two fingers. With the guy almost blind for a few seconds, I managed to get my bearings, stood up and ran for it.

I was aiming for the back door of the kitchen, but the knife on the table was just too out in the open and too good to be true. He was right behind me, one more second and I would had been under him again.

Run, hand on the table, knife. Leap, turn – don’t think. Aim. Instinct. Hear. He’s there. Do it. In a leap and a turn around, I grabbed the knife and did a full 180 degrees turn with it without stopping running. Rambo style, I was scared shitless. So scared I even had my eyes closed the whole time.

Missed? Open your eyes. The knife was deep inside his chest, heart missed. There was no surprise there, I wasn’t even aiming for anything.

He was holding tight to my hand on the knife and trying to leap towards me to bite on something, but I kept moving backwards and backwards, and he kept reaching with his free arm for my head.
He tried punching or clawing me, but I dodged and at that moment I remembered what Regina always told me during fights. I’m too stubborn. That was indeed a fault. Most people, they hold on to their only weapon. They try getting it back. They don’t let go. They are stubborn. I was part of the ‘most people’.

I realized I wasn’t going to take that out and hit with it again. That was just not possible. I let go, barred his left hand with my newly freed right hand, while still facing him, and put myself in Regina’s shoes. How does she do it? How does she fight?

  • Make use of the environment.
  • Have the upper ground.
  • Be the attacker. Even if you’re being attacked.
  • Scream. Scream at the attacker. Intimidate your opponent.

Are you kidding me? I’m not prepared to fight a grown up man, vampire for that matter.

Nonetheless, after barring his left hand I turned around and ended behind him. I remember letting go at that point. For the first time, I let go with my mind. I wasn’t in control, mentally. Not anymore. Let your instincts flow.

To be honest, it would have been a nice memory, if it wasn’t for that tiny detail, someone trying to kill you.

I let go and felt a rush through my whole body.

I grabbed a drawer, pulled it out completely, used it as a shield while backing down. I gave that drawer up too. Jumped over the counter, turned, stumbled, fell, got up and of course… he was still after me.

  • Be the attacker.

Lids. Yes. Lids saved my life.

One by one I threw three lids at him like frisbee discs, they were by no means meant to hurt anyone, just putting him off guard. And for the first time, I advanced towards him while he was advancing towards me. I screamed my lungs out. I roared. I made little girls noises and I felt like William Wallace (Braveheart). I had no idea what I was doing, but I wasn’t in control anymore. I threw myself upon him, we rolled over and in the pile of kitchen utensils left over from when I pulled out the drawer, there was a knife sharpener, that was pretty much like a stake. Long, thin, but not sharp. I grabbed that in my hand and then I gave up.

I went limp, stopped, tired, neck showing. Everything according to plan. Sure enough, a second later he stuck his fangs deep inside my shoulder and not neck. Good boy. I also stuck something of my own in him. Yes, the knife sharpener. When he was least expecting it, straight behind his head, right in the sweet spot where the skull (the literal bone) begins.

He went limp in under a second, and I felt his full weight over me.

He was dead, or dying, or paralyzed. I didn’t care. It was over.

I pushed him over and ran straight upstairs to Blanche.

Now I have to tell you, this couldn’t have taken more than one minute. It might seem a long thing, but in the midst of it, things were going so quickly that eyes could barely track the whole ordeal. Black on white it sounds like a big story, as I now see it, but being there, it was a heartbeat.

“I need more training”, I remember I was thinking as I ran up the stairs, that and “I hope she’s alive”.

By the time all this ‘happening’ ended, Blanche’s parents were opening the door from the room they locked themselves into, the master bedroom, the room into which this guy was trying to enter.

Blanche was still on the floor, unconscious, not breathing anymore and her heart had stopped. Dead by any definition.
I was over her, shaking her violently to wake up, her parents screaming (still? really?) and not approaching. You would think that it’s like in the movies, when a parent sees his child in such a state he immediately jumps over to try and help him, but in reality it’s not like that. The horror that your child might be dead puts an invisible barrier between you, as a parent, and the child. You just don’t want to face reality, and that’s as human as it gets.


We humans don’t want to face reality, we don’t want to face anything bad or anything that might disrupt our lives. We want it to continue as better as possible, and we refuse to acknowledge the truth before it is too late.

No matter, Blanche was still there and Sophia was just coming inside the house, she had just arrived and was trying to make heads or tails of what happened.

Blanche couldn’t be dead. This can’t happen. Not to her. This was the second time me and Sophia were seeing Blanche with her throat open, dead by all means.

Sophia had tears in her eyes even before seeing Blanche I think, and she immediately dropped to her knees besides her when she saw Blanche.

They have been friends since… forever, since they were born, not even a month apart, they had been there for one another. Friends, forever, a textbook definition. And they really were friends, not the kind you see all the time, friends for a while but arguing for everything in the long run, and then just loosing touch with each other. No, they really were friends, the true kind of friend that’s there whenever you need him, the kind of friend that when you’re with, you feel more comfortable than being just by yourself.

Few things are more powerful than friendship, maybe love, maybe not even that. But you know one that isn’t? Insanity.
They (I don’t know who) say that only the truly insane can bite themselves until they bleed, that you cannot make a conscious, sane decision to do that, that your instincts forbid you from doing so, and no sane person is able to bite themselves until they bleed. In the same way that you cannot hold your breath until you die.

But Sophia did just that. With one look at me, realizing I was bleeding from all over, shoulder, neck, hand, a leg… She realized I was in no position in giving up even more blood. And she was right.

She took her wrist to her mouth and just bit as hard as she could, screaming and squirming in the process, tears in her eyes, which were wide-shut, but couldn’t hold back the tears either way.

Blanche’s parents watching in horror, she took her wrist to Blanche’s mouth and shoved it inside, and then looked at me. I knew what she wanted. Do something, anything, help me.

With two hands on Blanche’s chest, I pushed so hard trying to make her heart beat once again, just for a second even, that in the process I broke all her ribs, or at least it felt like it, because I could hear cracking all over. I didn’t stop. I didn’t care. I knew that if even for a second Blanche could be alive, the instincts would take over.

All I heard was a quick but loud gasp from Sophia, and then saw her smile. Blanche started drinking.

Her parents were watching in horror, couldn’t figure out what was happening, but seeing Blanche move they dared to approach and then look in horror, frozen there besides her, looking and looking at how she was draining Sophia, at her eyes, deep dark red swirling inside of them, glowing, glittering – reigniting the spark that we call life. Good girl.

Her wounds were deep, and were not healing, not visibly at least, not as fast as a full vampire’s would, but she wasn’t bleeding anymore. She drained Sophia dry, and Sophia fainted. Ten seconds or less after that, I fainted too. I was out. All that was still keeping me conscious was the tought of Blanche dying, and with that solved, I could let go and so I did. Adrenaline had left me.

“Death is nothing to us, since when we are, death has not come, and when death has come, we are not.”

Epicurus, you lying bastard. Here I was, realizing I’m dying, death has come, and I still am. I know that’s not what he meant and I understand the true meaning of that quote, but being right there, in that situation, feeling life flowing away from you, didn’t seem that death wasn’t anywhere else but right there above me.

I woke up to screaming. Again.

As soon as I flinched, Blanche was above me, helping me get up.

“Good! You’re up! Thank you!” Blanche said in a loud voice, trying to cover the screaming of her parents.

“I can’t get them to shut up!” she added while looking annoyed at the loud screams.

When I looked in the direction of the screaming, there they were, both her parents tied up on the sofa, squirming around trying to break loose and screaming their heads off. Good thing they had this remote (mostly) house. Scream as you will, carry on.

“Blanche, what the fuck, who tied them?”
“I did. They were trying to run. I don’t know what to do. I can’t kill them. I can’t keep them alive either. I can’t turn them. They know what I am. What now?”

“Are you seriously thinking about murdering your own parents?” I said.

“Of course not. What the hell, no. But I’m… I don’t know. Help?” Blanche responded in a louder tone and sounding a bit angrier.

Ughh… I had to sit down. I was dizzy as hell, cold and sweating. I sat down next to her parents.

“I’ll set you free if you promise to stop screaming and agree to drink a tea with me. What do you say?” I asked both of them.

They both nodded frantically and just stopped moving, screaming, or saying anything. Good.

Sophia was already on it – thats why I asked – she got up apparently before I did, and even though she could barely stand on her feet, she was making a huge pot of tea with industrial quantities of sugar. Apparently we needed that. I didn’t object. I wasn’t this thirsty in my whole life. Only two hours had past I noticed, the clock was nearing 22:30.

And we all sat down and tried explaining what had just happened, even though we had no idea. We tried explaining to Blanche’s parents what she is and what’s going to happen. We told them she’s not a vampire, not yet, but not human entirely either.

We told them than in less than two or three years, their daughter will be human no more.

They were well aware of everything. There’s not a single person in Transylvania who doesn’t know the difference between a vampire (a strigoi) and a half-breed or the child of a vampire (a moroi).

They were pretty religious, although not stupid nor irrational. And when it comes to the general population in Transylvania, old traditions and myths take precedence over religion. That said, remember the Petre Toma case I presented earlier? About the family that digged up their relative, pulled his heart out, burned it and made a drink out of the ashes? Would you consider that religious? No, not really. However they were all religious people, fearing god and all that. One of them was a lawyer, one a doctor. Still religious, and no matter how religious they were, tradition, myth or belief in vampires still took precedence.

This was the case here. It wasn’t a case of “this can’t be true” it was more of a case of “this can’t be happening to us”.

At the time they seemed to take it pretty well, although still looking at their daughter like it was the devil himself, but in the end realizing it is their daughter and nobody else.

We decided not to untie them, tea can wait.

“Mother, father, I’m still me. There’s nothing different about me. I ate breakfast with you this morning.” Blanche said.

“YES AND TWO HOURS AGO YOU ATE SOPHIA!” her father blurted out. Sophia smiled. She was just that giddy. After all we’ve been through, she still held on to her joyful state of being. Always smiling, always Sophia. She’s still the same you know, I saw her this summer. Still smiling. Good for her.

“Yes, that’s true, but would you rather have me dead?” Blanche responded.

They didn’t answer. They weren’t sure.
We stayed up almost all night, until we (Sophia and I) almost passed out again. We eventually did go to sleep, and Blanche’s parents were still tied up the second day.

When we woke up the two of them were still sleeping on the couch, tied up, and Blanche was sleeping in her room. Sophia was already up and about (again) and in the kitchen apparently making breakfast. Old habits die hard.

I called home and told my parents I had spent the night here and then untied Blanche’s parents.

“She’s sleeping. Don’t freak out.” I told them. And they listened.

After this it gets a bit boring, until three days later when I realized I was still missing my necklace and I had no idea where it is, how to get it back, and where the hell was Viktoria when we needed her.

Blanche healed rather quickly but I didn’t. The thought of my necklace missing made me weak and sick, and I don’t know to this day if it’s self-induced auto-suggestion, if I’m crazy, or what else is going on, but a week without that necklace and I can’t even breathe properly anymore – I just grew up with it. Don’t you have something you care for really, really, really much? Like a ring, a watch, or something else. Something really important for you that only the thought about losing it makes you sick and makes your heart skip a beat.

That, coupled with my wounds still awfully painful and not closed, and a serious lack of blood, anemia 120%, I wasn’t really in a good shape. My parents cared for me every day and for the first time I heard my father saying something along the lines of this needs to stop, although not so directly. He wasn’t keen on seeing his son with wounds on him all the time that’s for sure.

So what had just happened there? Well, I had three days to think about it, by myself, and in those three days none of us spoke to each other, until the fourth night when the story starts again…

We were under attack. By a vampire. In our own homes. That has never, ever happened. Not until that time.  The kinship knew pretty well Blanche was a direct descendant of Regina. Nobody would dare attack her. Nor me. But here we were, both a step away from death. We were in this life because we felt secure, we didn’t feel threatened and we didn’t feel we’re part of a movie or a crime novel.

This has never happened under her reign. This has never happened to her offspring. Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?


fundamental issues [story part 30]

September 14, 2012 § 3 Comments

THAT BITCH had bitten me during the night. I should have known better.

Some people are afraid to sleep with their windows open, some people are afraid of spiders. Here I was sleeping next to an unconscious, apparently hungry vampire.

Of course she would go and do something like that. It was afterall, a night, and I guess old habits die hard. But this was not the time to find excuses. I had broken a promise I made to myself long ago, never give up to Viktoria. You see, some of you might think (as I thought at the time) that this is, in a sick and twisted way, a relationship builder. As in, it would get me closer to Viktoria, making her more like a friend, and less like an enemy.

But that’s false. Vampires are not dogs. You don’t throw them a bone and everything is warm and fuzzy in happy land, and you’re now friends. No. The moment you become food, you… become food. As in, it’s a step back, not a step forward. You do not evolve from “human” to “friend”. You devolve from human, straight to food. Friend is rarely mentioned.

It was the 24th of January 2006. By the time I had come to my senses, feeling the bite marks with my right index finger I already knew that I couldn’t spend another night with Viktoria and Viktoria alone, but that was another promise that I was making to myself which eventually I was bound to break.

Viktoria didn’t wake. She didn’t even flinch. She was feeling apparently more than welcome and comfortable in my bed and my room. And I couldn’t blame her. Like I was saying in the beginning of the blog, I was always more on the “old things” guy. I loved everything that was old and anything that took your mind back to the era of kings and queens. I was just always fascinated by it for some reason, although the whole house was very modern and more than enough tech equipped for the 21st century, my room was resembling a rather 17th century bedroom with nothing more than a shelf, a table, a big bed and a mirror. Something like this, although less spectacular.

I was however contemplating on the idea between waking her up gently or waking her up… the way she deserved.

She was sleeping and rather uncommon for a January day, the sun was shining powerfully and the light was gently brushing against her side of the bed. She was no Regina. She was much more muscular than Regina, and taller I might add. She smelled differently. Regina usually smelled like, well not exactly that smell, but the feeling that you got from smelling her, was similar to the feeling you get when smelling old books…

I can’t really describe it, but I’m sure you all know it. It’s that feeling that makes you exhale and inhale again, and again, and again. And even though it’s the same smell, you keep doing it because it’s addictive in a way. You can’t really say WHAT is that smell, but you like it.

Some people say that about gasoline also. I beg to differ. I like the smell of old books. That’s how Regina smelled. It was an unfamilliar yet strongly addictive smell, just like her eyes.

Viktoria on the other hand smelled like caramel or toffee or whipped cream with too much sugar in it. It was a… distinct smell, pleasant, yet not addictive and, on the contrary, it was the kind of smell that, if inhaled more than once or twice, has the potential to make you sick to your stomach. Kind of like eating too much honey or something way over your league too sweet.

I wasn’t complaining, I wondered how I smelled like and I also wondered how I smelled like for them. I know the answer of how I smelled like for Viktoria, seeing as she just fed on me in her sleep. It clearly wasn’t unattractive. McDonald’s french fries.

But enough with the smell.
I got up and as stealthy as I could I reached under my bed where I was keeping this big, sharp, heavy and shiny stainless steel stake which I secretly called “The End”.

You see, I was planning on murdering Regina at some point, because of all the books and movies and retarded texts that I have read, which all eventually convinced me that sooner or later, a vampire will turn on you and your family no matter how well you know each other and how involved you are. So I prepared. It was a foolish idea then, because of several things. First, there’s no way you’re going to be able to use that, not on Regina, secondly, the vampire that turns on you is a false, misleading and plain wrong concept, and third, I didn’t have the strength to use it, now that I think of it, that stake was way too thick.


Regardless, I grabbed it, got on top of Viktoria and stuck it in the air above her head, stopping just short of her forehead, barely scratching it. She opened her eyes. Now, one would normally expect caution, no sudden movements and a nice, calm tone from the one being under the threat of a weapon, especially when you wake up to that threat. That wasn’t the case here. I was in almost no time, on the table in the other corner of the room, shelves and chairs broken all around me, books from the shelves above almost poking my eyes out and all that.

She practically didn’t even blink before doing that. I guess she was used to it. Or was it just normal predatory response? Never back down? No matter, she looked puzzled.

“Last night you offered me a home and now you’re offering me eternal peace? I didn’t knew you were so kind-hearted…” Viktoria said.

“You bit me and it hurts, it hurts my mind that you are now basically functioning on me-essence.” I replied.

“I woke up in the middle of the night, hungry, thirsty and with a fresh water well and a freshly cooked pig next to me. What did you expect.” She said.

Nobody ever called me a “fresh water well and a freshly cooked pig”. To be honest, I don’t think there is one single person in this whole galaxy who has been called that at some point in his life.

“I’m telling mom.” I replied sarcastically, got up and left the room. Mom, as to Regina, not as to my actual mom. My actual mom didn’t really need to know anything, although she expected to see me with my neck like that.

It’s funny how people just cringe at the idea that there could be a 100% normal family, from any point of view, just living about with a vampire in their house that occasionally brings friends, and they all leave bite marks behind. It’s just crazy even when I think about it. But we were on the same wavelength. I understood that this wasn’t deception, oppression, cause of fear or anything. It was just something that happened, has fairly low chances of happening anytime soon again, and they just understood there are things going on.

My father was just charmed by both Regina and Viktoria. Him, like me, didn’t fear that much, plus he always was, and is, somewhat of a history and geography maniac, he likes to read and discuss different events that changed the world, historical facts that might have gone different, reasons behind why the world is how it is and how could it had been different if certain events would have unfolded differently. So, whenever he got the chance to talk with them, he would. His eyes were gleaming whenever there was talk of “togetherness” (as in the whole family and ‘guests’) sharing an evening, day or whatever. He also understood they were guests, and not demons. I think being the most atheist family on the block helped also.

By the time I got out of the shower and returned to the room, Viktoria was already up and about, but because it was a Thursday, which meant the house was usually empty until 17:00 when parents got back home from work, she was rather bored.

You know those type of children who are just really, really full of energy, at around the age of 5, but you, in some instances, like a medical waiting room or a quiet restaurant, force them to stay, shut up and don’t say anything, and they just turn their heads to the floor, put a lip down and say nothing, occasionally bursting out for a second and then quickly composing themselves again. That’s how she was. Bored, yet full of energy, like a lion in a cage.

“Don’t you have business to attend to?” I asked.

“Well, I actually came here straight from the end of the world. Regina called for me and I went. She made a list of requests, two actually, that we need.” She replied.


“Yes, we need your necklace and a bit of blood, just a tiny bit.”

“What? What for? No.”

“It’s for the little project you and her are working on. Don’t ask me. Just give me what I need and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Viktoria, there’s no way you’re getting my necklace.”

“Ok.” She replied.

“Then the blood.” – Which I agreed to, and she bit me once again, from the wrist, let it trickle down a bit into a small plastic vial. It didn’t feel nor look good no matter how you take it. I’d rather have someone sucking on my neck, than being forced to watch this. It just isn’t natural, but I guess some might argue that being bitten isn’t natural either. Guess what, it is. At least it had become more natural to me than what was happening right there.

“I’m sorry for last night.” She said in a low voice, with her head down, white, silvery hair covering her face, her eyes on my wrist, holding it with both hands and letting it go as soon as she said it.

Then, with the vial in her pocket, she ripped the necklace from my neck and ran. Just like that, in under two seconds, she was gone, out the door, but in a hurry. I couldn’t be bothered to run after her, I knew better.

Can you hate her? I was just… amazed at how sneaky she was, at how much she tried to fulfil any of Regina’s requests, and at how little she cared about anyone and anything else.

I hated the position she was in, and the way she made me look and feel, sure, but hate her ways or her as a person… I’m not sure.

This wasn’t over in any case. All that has happened meant nothing really, what bothered me the most was that she took off before telling me when and if Regina is coming back, or where is she and how to get in touch with her. I just… I wanted to be “in” again.

I remember clearly to this day how I had a revelation around that time, which was in the lines of “I always want to be on both sides. That thing with the grass is greener on the other side must be true. Because I always want to be with Regina running around taking part in her daily routine, but once there, I always wanted to go back to a normal life.”

And this is another reason why I could never decide on being turned or not. Once you choose, that’s it. You can never go back to the normal life. What happens then if I just can’t get used to being 24/7 on one of the sides? Do I end up like all the others, ending my own life?

And if I chose not to be turned, and become old and sick and all that, won’t I have the biggest regret a human being has ever had, passing out on eternal youth?

In any case, back to where Viktoria took off.

I picked up the phone and called Blanche. I had hoped at least she wasn’t in on the plan, and was still around.

long time no see. [story part 29]

April 4, 2012 § 13 Comments

I won’t bore you to death with parts which hold little to no relevance to the story, parts that depict me in my life, without the whole thing we’re talking here about.

I’m picking up from where I left in the last post and just tell you that after the day from the last post, I spent the next following ones by myself just trying to piece everything together and trying to figure out a way of contacting Regina. I kept expecting her to show up at my door or window or whatever anytime, but that didn’t happen.

Instead school soon started, it was now the start of fall and sooner than expected things settled down into the same boring rhythm I’ve had before Regina.

By the start of November I was again bored to death, but normal. I was even starting to forget things, and decided to write everything down as I remembered it, every time I remembered something. Soon I found myself surrounded by “weird” notes with half-thoughts on them and everything that depicted more of a crazy person, rather than just some random notes. I’ve put everything together slowly and managed to organize them.

Me, Viktor and Sophia were back to school and we were (believe me, we really were) trying to have a normal life, but the elephant in the room always kept screaming and punching us in the face whenever we were least likely to expect it. The elephant in the room was of course Blanche. We were used to being four, we were used to being four friends, going through high school together.

But here we were, on New Year’s eve, going into 2006, with no sign of Blanche, no sign of everything. Regina was a goner, Blanche and Viktoria were missing completely too, with no way of knowing where they are or who they are with.

Trying to speak with Blanche’s parents proved almost futile, all they knew was that Blanche told them not to search for her, that she will be back, that she’s OK, and that she did phone from time to time at home but all she said was “I’m OK.” and hanged up, without waiting for responses. That was weird, but understandable. They were worried, but happy she’s fine. If you ask me, they were never that close anyway.

By the time January hit, if it wasn’t for Blanche missing, I was ready to put everything that happened to imagination. It already seemed so long since everything happened that things started blurring out and mixing inside my head, imagination replacing gaps, and if it were not for everything that I’ve written down to put me on the right track when trying to remember, I wouldn’t have been able to write this story after-all.

But then, on January 23rd 2006, we pick-up the story again.

Long time no see...

In the last post I was saying how I was enjoying a cup of coffee alone at Concordia. Well, that usually happens from time to time, I sometimes go there sooner than the meeting time established with someone, and just stay by myself for half an hour looking out the window. It’s just different – sometimes I feel like being alone, but sometimes I feel like being alone surrounded by people. I’m sure you know the feeling. I think I would still go and have a coffee even if I missed taste-buds, it’s just something about the chatter around me and the clanking of glasses that makes me feel comfortable and relaxed. That, paired with a deep, cold snow outside the window, and you have a cozy evening.

That is, unless someone totally unexpected and scary as hell sits down in front of you.

She sat down in front of me, no words.
Imagine me, staring at her with the widest of mouths and the biggest of eyes one could pop from amazement. I’m not much of a poker face myself, but she… well she’s something else. She was staring at me with a totally blank face, empty eyes, straight mouth, the whole nine-yard.

However, something WAS different about her. She was not glowing… like she used to. She didn’t have that allure or ven aqui thing that she usually had. That desire to stare at her, it was gone. She looked somewhat trashy, as opposed to what she used to look like. She looked pale, malnourished, she was skinnier and her hair was darker than usual. She looked human more than ever. She looked immortal no more, but then again, I figured this is just a new look of hers, but I soon realized, as soon as she started speaking, that she was changed entirely, not just physically.

She continued to remain silent and just stare at me. I wasn’t sure whether she was pissed at me or grateful or whatever, I just wanted her to say something. I kept staring at her hand, I couldn’t believe that I had something to stare at in the first place.

She noticed that and looked down at it too, then looked up at me again and said:

“Plastic surgery, amazing what they can do with it these days.” – Usually this would be followed by a mischievous smile, but this time it wasn’t the case.

“I gather you’re alright now?” I said.

“I’m well on my way on being alright I guess, but I’d rather not have went through this again.” She replied.

“So this is not the first time Regina does this to you?” I added.

“Regina? Yes, this is the first time, and the last.” She said, what I hoped was meant to say she’ll never piss of Regina again, not that she’ll not allow it to happen again, as in, remove Regina from being able to do that.

Now for all of you out there thinking this is too sci-fi, believe me, I felt the same, and I later found out, much later, in mind-altering and though-changing circumstances, that Viktoria actually had her ripped-off arm re-attached in a proper, but private, medical facility, and required absolutely no looking after from Blanche. I saw the scars on her upper-hand, at the shoulder, and although I had this image of a vampire attaching his (her) hand back on like a zombie, this was not the case. That night she was bleeding hard and I really thought she would die from blood loss. Yes, that can happen to vampires. Draining one is just as draining a human being, no difference here.

She had her arm re-attached just as any normal person would do, but healed much faster, and the scar that she had held on for well, almost a year, but it finally healed too.

I’m saying all this to make you aware that a human is much, much more closely to a natural biological being, rather than an undead-zombie which hardly ever dies, like the movies would make you think. I had friends which lost a finger, and although a finger is not an arm, they went through the same thing as Viktoria did.

“Where is Blanche?” I asked.

“She came with me but decided to go home instead, I think she’ll stay. I just came to say hello.” – Yeah, like anyone would believe that.

“Regina?” I asked.

“Don’t worry, everything is fine with Regina, and me, thank you for asking. We don’t hold grudges, it’s hard holding a grudge for eternity.” She replied.

“But where is she? I’ve been alone for months now!” I asked again.

“I’ve been alone for centuries. What’s your point?” She replied.

“My point is I need to know where she is.” I quickly added.

“Well if you must know, she sent me.” And with that, things were once again starting to feel normal… in the other way.

“You’re still evading the question.” – She was good at doing that, although I think it was something she did unconsciously, out of habit, rather than evading the question for some higher purpose.

“Oh, I don’t know where she is, but I’m pretty sure you’ll see her soon enough.” – She replied, and I smiled. I wanted to hear that more than anything.

As for Viktoria’s appearance, I didn’t say a word. Maybe she was just having a bad hair day? Maybe she was down with her moral? I didn’t know, or didn’t want to know anyway. I was more interested in Blanche rather than her.

But Viktoria did look bad. Really bad. If she would have been human, I would have called an ambulance really. She was… well, in a really bad shape.

“Viktoria, what’s wrong?” I asked her when she started going more pale than she already was, and squeezing her eyes shut over and over again.

“I’m a bit tired.” She replied.

Well, if it was sleep that she needed, that I could relate to. I know the feeling from lack of sleep (serious lack of sleep) and it’s not nice. But I also knew that Viktoria would probably be the last person to ask for help or appear weak in front of everyone, anyone. Especially in front of a human, especially in front of a human who is not scared of her in the first place. I don’t want to brag, but I was accustomed to her and probably less scared of her than 99% of the people, vampire or not, who knew her. I was scared, but not at the time, not in the state in which she was. You could kill her with a toothpick as a stake really. Seriously.

“Go sleep then.” I said.

“Can I come with you?” She said.

“I don’t like unfamiliar places…” She added.

Wait, what? She wanted to come with me, as in, sleep at my place? Hell no.
Hell yes. I couldn’t say no. For some reason, you should always say no when a person auto-invites himself (or herself, yeah, even if it’s a girl, especially if it’s a girl) to your house, but I couldn’t do that.

“Do you need food?” I asked with a suspicious looking expression on my face.

Without any problems or without even flinching, she said (rather happily for hearing it): “Yes.”

“Fine. Let’s go.” I said.
I sent a message to Sophia: “Go see Blanche, she’s back. I’m going home for the day, tell Viktor too.” and went home with Viktoria.

We took a cab and by the time we arrived home Viktoria fell asleep like a baby. I couldn’t even imagine how tired she could be for falling asleep like that. I mean, that’s against every survival instinct in her bones. But she did, and I had to literally slap her (I’m not a gentleman, and I enjoyed it actually) to wake her up.

We went inside, threw her on my bed and went in the other room and after a quick chat with my parents, I’ve decided that the safest place for her (and everyone in the house) to be, would be right next to me.

Also, as a small detour of the story here, it appears that carrying a half-unconscious vampire into your house does count as an invitation inside, that, and putting her into your bed. So no, I didn’t have to say “Please, come in.” to an unconscious girl.

By the time I went back in the room, it was nearing 21 and I was not really used to sleep at that time, but neither was Viktoria used to sleeping at night, the circumstances required it nonetheless. Then I remembered she was hungry. I was not about to sleep next to a hungry vampire. I needed a solution, fast. I was not going to act as a donor, not again.

I called Sophia and asked her if she met with Blanche and she told me she’s there so I asked her to put Blanche on the phone. I told Blanche the whole thing and she told me she’s in the same situation, tired as hell, but will explain another time why. In the meantime, I told her that Viktoria was really hungry and I was not about to donate to her.

It’s rather funny how you receive a bottle of human blood at your window in the middle of the night. Sophia made the delivery. We lived, well, rather close, so she took a cab and got off at my house, left a bottle from Blanche, and went home. We acted as she was leaving me homework, and again, this thing was turning “normal” faster than it should.

I didn’t knew whether to warm it up in the microwave (True Blood – the show, was not on HBO yet, but I still thought of that either way) or just offer it as is. I opted for as is, I mean, cold pizza is better in the morning, right?

I slapped her again a few times and when I got no response, I just decided to open the bottle and put it on her lips. Well, that didn’t wake her up, but she did drink all of it, in her sleep. That was nice. Feeding a baby, that’s what it felt. And if you must ask, yes, I know the feeling.

That problem solved, and the clock nearing mid-night, I went to bed with Viktoria next to me.
Just like in the movies, we woke up the next morning with her all over me, hands, feet, and most importantly, head, on my chest, mouth on my neck.

For one second there, I was a bit shocked. I mean, except the fact that everything about this was WRONG and weird, I did feel attracted to her in some even more weird way, and I did feel horror too because, well, if she could drink the bottle in her sleep, then who knows what else she could do in her sleep – bite maybe?

I shoved her aside easily trying not to wake her up (out of fear, or shame, not concern for her sleep) and put a hand on my neck to see if everything was in order.


* I’m sorry for the long absence, I wasn’t slacking, I was traveling with a purpose. You’ll see the fruits of that soon enough.

* Next post: surprise photo, as a thank you gift for reading the story so far. If all goes well, maybe a video after it will follow.

* For the skeptics out there: stay tuned, I’ve also complied a nice post for you too, something to make your inner workings tick a bit faster. Will follow soon, but first, I’ll post what I’ve said above, that, and with the story-in between.

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