Vampinore: II - Lily
A Connoisseur of Blood
Even I have my particular taste. Much like selecting the choicest of liquors, cheap is a quick fix, but the taste is sometimes unbearable. To say I had a cheap drink tonight is to say bathtub gin is as good as a regular well-rum. Those waste-of-breaths were as abhorrent in my taste and sight. Pig’s blood is more of a delicacy. Pigs are also much more mannered than they.
Tonight was not a night to cross a black cat like I. Maybe if I stayed in the pub for a few more rounds, this bloodshed could have been avoided. The alley was dirty enough without their repulsiveness staining it. No matter, for they did not either. Needless to say, I had to wash my hands of them, for their wretched smell clung to me in a vile that I could only describe as a rotten flesh of a bloated corpse that had recently erupted out of its casket.
What of My Guest?
Best he prays that I let him inhale another breath, exhale a single sound, and lay eyes upon me once more. I knew of him following me from the pub earlier tonight. My vision fixed forward walking those drizzling streets, and his awkward fumbling could be heard for many blocks around. The same idiot was he who lollygagged around my papers at the campus. Last desire I might beg for would be another enchanted, unwanted wanderer in my midst. I will, however, give bravo to such an act of brave savagery and rage . . . my knight in shitty armor.
I walk into the room to check in on what could be an asset or aqua vitae. Then again, by looking at him, I expect him to be about on par with that well-rum of which I spoke. Even as I lean back against the wall, his shock has him catatonic. I’m sure he must be replaying tonight’s events in his cerebral theater. I wouldn’t mind cracking open his skull just to sit down as a guest and watch it all over again from his view. On second thought, I have seen my share that has been more entertaining.
His head slowly begins to move about like a wind-up doll. Conversation seems imminent in a few short moments. I’m sure his questions will be many, only to be met in battle with my own cavalry of interrogation.
Now Silence Breaks
“I already know your order of questions, so I will be forward,” I said sternly. If I dare let him take lead, I might be drawn to expose his throat to open air to stop his expected blabbering.
“What you just experienced is a blink in time, moving at a mach that breaks most people, but I withheld from such extreme; however, I’m unsuccessful at preventing disorientation and trauma. You will recover and might recall entering a building, being pulled into an old freight lift, then planted into that very chair. It is all truth, not delusion, I can assure you. You will not remember where this location is and maybe you never will, but only based on the answers you will deliver to me without hesitation. You’ve seen what I can do and that’s nothing to the true torture I can bring to your exposed pain receptors. Now, do we have an accord?”
He nods rather quickly, still drawing deep breaths. I step out of shadow to my center room table where he sits trembling. Leaning forward while posting by my hands against my chair, I come into enough light so he might see his potential executioner.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Victor,” he replied with a shudder in his voice.
“I’m Lily. Now tell me, Victor, why were you following me in the first place?” I asked.
“I was . . .,” he searched for his words. “. . . compelled to find out more about you, and what drives you.”
“None of that is your concern,” I said. “What is my concern presently is that you have some knowledge of what I am and that could become very taxing to me. I don’t enjoy being friendly or being watched by fetching eyes in libraries or at bars.”
“So, you saw . . . ,” he started.
“I felt your gaze as if I were attacked by a thorn bush, though I can’t remember what pain like that feels like anymore,” I said. “There’s other ways to get into my pants than to chase me down alleys.”
“That’s not my intention,” he said.
“Of course it wasn’t. Who would want to stick their cock in a frigid cunt, and I’m speaking of my personality as well,” I said.
Victor sits there gawking back at me. Apparently he hasn’t had the pleasure of a foul-mouthed woman being crudely blunt to him. How deprived he is. Must I enlighten everyone I encounter?
“Now, Victor. That was quite the showcase of revenge back there,” I said in reference to his hand’s outburst in the face of that insect he crushed.
“I don’t know what came over me,” he said.
“Never killed anyone before, I presume,” I said.
Victor, with hands still painted in the dried blood of his prey, fell face first into those hands and began to sob. He has regret. Maybe if I was dead, he wouldn’t feel so bad. Whoops! I am dead, aren’t I? Or am I? Won’t he find a surprise to his preconceptions about my ‘unwell’-being?
“If it calms you, no witnesses were around, and no evidence left behind,” I reassured him.
“How sure are you?” he replied while wiping the sorrow off his warm cheek.
“I have a knack for noticing those kinds of things,” I said. “Strike it from thought tonight, then rest yourself in the spare room, and don’t even bring to nerve an attempt to leave. Your last breath will cease before stepping out that door without my permission.”
“How will I know you won’t just kill me in my sleep?” he asked.
“I still might, but staying up all night will make things much more difficult for us both when Earth turns toward Sun,” I said.
Depriving him of option, he slowly rises out of his chair while grasping tightly onto his satchel, and then carefully creeps around the table. All the while, he is keeping me in his peripherals. What a good boy! He’s learning. I turn to my abode, opposite of the room he crawls toward. No need to keep an eye on him, when my other senses maintain vigilance. I hear him drop his satchel and fall heavy onto the couch. It won’t be long for him to disappear in what I can only honestly wish is a restful coma.
Rise, My Sun
All these years, and your rays still remind me thoughts that once were moments of peace: your comforting warmth and your illumination of this the world – a view that made it all worth living. Since then, now, and forever, I can only find such peace in the shadows, behind the curtains of this theater of tragedy. No life flourishes within these walls, only my disdain and seclusion. With my work over the centuries and when the time finally comes, I might embrace your light upon me again. I’ll watch your light ride its chariot across the sky, then descending while you submit to the rise of the stars. One day, my love. One day.
Groans echo from near as Victor is waking to the morning. Now comes the decision on what to do with him. Should I just be done with him? Would anyone miss his life? Maybe I could leave him dead in the alley, mortally wounded from an attempted robbery. He would be known as the hero who died while defending himself against the dredge of humanity. Such actions might bring attention around here. I cannot have that.
Should I allow him in to our darkest secrets? Is it that time, my Sun? Are they ready to learn? To grow? To finally live? His insecurities devour his potential strength. As much as I find him feeble, there’s some aura of confidence that emits off his trembling skin. Something is buried deep within that begs to be unleashed. It must be true, for no man removed of sense in Victor’s character would have done what he did last night. Remains to be seen . . .
Now I am seen, by Victor. My mind has wandered too deep in thought as he walked into my room and sees me standing before him . . . in front of the window . . . in the morning light. Perplexed is his face and motions lost of function. No time for debate without proper conversation. I had to break the silence again.
“As I am in the light, now might be time to bring to light a few truths of us . . . vampires.”
DO RETURN FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER OF VAMPINORE . . .
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