Vampinore: VI- Victor
Denied My Ignorance
From the terrible truth, but that is why we fear such things – the truth. Many have sacrificed years, precious moments in life, to both conceal and uncover it. If truth be told: governments will fall, religions become lost, and science no longer required, for the absolute truth, in all realms and perceptions, would be infinite, undeniable, and incorruptible.
Truth and time must work together, or one’s psyche could be fractured, such as mine. A myth made reality by blood: the vampires that I knew as false are in reality true, but the knowledge of vampires I thought as true are in reality false.
As time passes, such thoughts become cemented into your mind. To chisel down layers of sediment takes as much time and power as what put it all there in the first place. Twenty-six years stripped away in twenty-six hours. It’s been that long since that incident last night. I fear my sleep won’t be welcomed by my mind tonight, for it is fractured by the truth.
Maybe that’s why Lily is taking her time. She knows that all of the truth introduced to me at once might be more mentally fatal compared to the briefs scars I’ve retained from that alley. Then again she might be just using my curiosity to lead me along and do her work for her.
Angered by My Curiosity
This third night hasn’t been any easier. To think on my choices are both crippling and draining. I would have never had to endure this if my curiosity didn’t get the better of me that night, or even before hand at the university.
My work! My work I’ve been dedicated to for so long, now it’s nothing more than just a past memory, but only if I dare make that choice. I could easily just say no. I could just let it all go and move on with my work that I’ve spent years on. Then again, she might be the key to the work I’ve been doing all along. While using me as a resource for her work, I might be able to use her as a resource for mine.
She knew! She knew I was following her that night! Set me in this course for her own personal enslavement, she must have planned this! To strike my eyes with such horror and no warning given, how barbaric, sadistic, and inhumane she is! Inhuman she is, nothing like me, nothing like the rest of us! What gives her the right?!
Damn! I cannot get past the reoccurring visions. I’ve never seen anyone die in front of me, well, not in such a violent way. Last night, I had more visions of blood slowly flowing through the air, weightless and majestic. Painting a cold and heartless part of town with life and character, it became a work of terrifying art and pleasantry to abnormal eyes. However, these eyes saw what appeared to be the artist at her vicious work – tearing out the throats and limbs of the walking pallets and painting their colors onto the canvass alley.
Bargaining for My Redemption
But whether it is for or from ignorance, I do not know. Today I am torn on this, the fourth night. Easier to the conscience, there is no road less traveled, or even one to travel. I sought to understand one person and found that I am on the brink of understanding the entire world. Is it all too much for me? Is what I seek out of my own comprehension? Is what I seek out of my own emotional stability?
Three more nights after this, and there’s absolutely no turning back. Time! I need more time! I need more of it for the truth to work with it. The wheel keeps spinning without my consent or control. Be damned you cruel thing! Be damned!
What do you want me from me? My blood? My sanity? I give all that I have left to your unmerciful means, just for the chance to undo it all! To know what I know now and choose not to follow her into that godless, foreboding, uncontained vat of death and darkness!
I beg you!
Release from all your torture bestowed upon me!
Depressing My Issues
Into the fifth night. Why bother continuing my own studies? Let fires consume my passions and papers!
Clarity comes not without removing of such energies that drive us down the road to our desired destiny. Clarity shows us that the destination is on the other end of the earth. Unknown to us in life, for our visions are blinded by our desires.
I take no fill from this glass of liquor as I once used to, for it is a new poison I need to numb these pains!
Which vessel is purged of its substance expeditiously: this drinking glass or my soul, if there even is such a thing?
If there is no soul, why do I even care if death comes? There’s no other place to go to after this!
Is that why we seek immortality? Have we realized there is nothing after this except silence? A silence we will never know for our senses be devoid and brain removed of all power.
A vampire’s way: to prevent death? Why? She doesn’t seem to enjoy much of the pleasures of life? She seems to be a scholar. Is it an unquenchable thirst for knowledge of our future, much like mine for the past, which has driven her all these years?
For unfuckable fuck’s sake, my glass has run dry again . . . much like my spirit. Can I ever refill again?
Accepting My Choice
A vampire’s way might be the right way after all.
Last night a dream came to me, on the sixth night, the first in nights since that moment in the alley.
I stood in a room with nothing but a bookcase, filled with various texts. I couldn’t feel any temperature, or the movement of air. Stillness gripped the room by its throat, preventing even sound from my footsteps as I circled about. Light was only permitted in small amounts, but from what source I cannot find. It was just there, illuminating anything I come close to: the walls, the floors, and the . . . . the bookcase, which has now quietly slid out of place. Revealed to me was a wall with faded shade of paint behind it. Approaching it, I found myself shuddering, but not from any form of anxiety, but from a reverberation coming off of it. I’m being called to the wall.
With closer examination, the wall at first seemed plain, but it held the same resonance coming off of it. There must be something behind it. I pressed my hand against it to feel the sensation. It flowed like a music from a bass guitar flows through a speaker and into your chest. The vibrations penetrated my palm, traveling up my arm, accessing through my shoulder then entering my chest. The warmth, the welcoming, the soothing feeling of it was indescribable.
Closing my eyes and rocking my head back, I took in the pulsing comfort that flowed within my capsule. Imagine the warm sun glowing onto you, while listening to the rush of waves flowing by your feet as you stand in the shallow end of a beach. I lowered my head and slowly opened my eyes – only then did I see the trauma done to me!
A slender, but long needle, thicker than a syringe, piercing through the center of my hand! Blood dripped in a single trail down around my wrist and to the floor. I didn’t feel a bit of pain, but my heart raced and thoughts went into panic. Enough drops have hit the floor to make a small pool of blood, but as I looked back to this device that caused such a disruption of peace . . . it had disappeared back into the wall.
I grasped my bloody hand, without a feeling of pain, and in even more deeper states of confusion. Glaring back at this wall that had betrayed me, I watched as the wall, without the needle, now marked by my bloody half-palm print, slid deep into itself, then grinded to the left, leaving behind an empty room of darkness. Through the dark rectangular passage, air moved outward to greet me. The first thing I could feel besides the vibrations was a slight warm wind. My mind began to calculate such an event. Only warm wind comes from the outdoors . . . or . . . something generating, and then exhausting it.
Looking upon the wound upon my palm, I saw no wound at all. Just blood smeared across my palm. Was I really injured? Was this even my own blood?
Without further thought, I could hear the first sounds of this vivid dream: the sound of the warm wind rushing out of the hole in the wall that originally lay behind the bookcase. Within the slight blasts of the wind lay the wavelengths of the vibrations that once filled my vessel. It was still warm and welcoming. I was compelled to enter the darkness.
The luminescence around me lit the way. A stone staircase underneath my feet, and darkness all around, I sensed in that darkness that if I fell, I may never find a way back up. I kept to the path, always looking down upon the steps to see where they led. After at least a hundred steps I have taken, a stone landing was floating, big enough for only one person. In front of me laid a door of metal, but nothing that I recognize. There was no handle, just a keyhole for something not made in our world. I couldn’t even describe the structure unless I punched a hole into metal with architectural precision. Think of pressing in a multi-oddly-shaped polygon into a hole of different levels. How would I get through?
Looking around in the darkness upon stone landing, I saw the stairway has now disappeared! How do I even get back to find a key to . . . the door . . . I feel . . . that might be within my right pocket . . . that I already have?
Drawn from my pocket, I pulled a key of four sides of teeth that match the keyhole. How did I come upon such a thing? No matter, for the staircase was gone and I have no other option but to proceed. Slowly I placed the key into the leveled-slot. It fitted so well, sliding deep in and turning clockwise, forward into time.
The sound of gears turning, the key moved clockwise without my control, and the door began to move open inwards without my pressure. Through the door I saw water falling. Fully open, I stepped onto another stone landing with nothing but a pit in front of me, illuminated by the blue and white glistening waters of two opposing waterfalls. One to the right and one the left in the dark, I saw water pouring down without a sound, but with light. The waters had their own luminescence that I had. From up high one fell from the edge of what looked like a jungle, the other from the edge of a desert, they both poured, raging, downwards into the black pit below.
Beckoning me, the pit’s vibration, the one I felt before the wall, drew me down further. I know I shouldn’t, but I am compelled. I must. I have to. This was my choice. Beyond all question, and beyond all reasoning, I know what I must do. I must take this dive. I must go to what was so warm, welcoming, and soothing. I must take that leap . . . of faith.
I jumped . . . and I fell . . .
And on the Seventh Day
I awake to the sunrise, already risen, to the highest point of noon. No longer in that place of darkness and excellence of nature’s beauty, I sit up in my own bed. An empty glass shattered upon my floor to the right, released by my hand during night, still filled with a rum and Coke that now had gelled into the cracks of the wood. The sweat-soaked sheets had been thrown about all during the night, during my travels.
I am compelled further to stare toward the ray of light coming through the window. Knowing that I have made my choice, it might be one of the last times I look upon the sunlight again. I don’t know what lies ahead of me, but I do know it is what I want. Through all the denial and anger, through all the depression and bargaining, I am ready to accept what is coming to me.
A choice to be lost to it all, to continue a way of struggle to barely scratch the surface – or – a choice to be privy to knowledge that very few, if any, know, and find out answers from a direct source to the past; and perhaps, enlighten the future? I have understood what is to become of me. I have accepted what I am destined to do. Where it goes from here, I do not know. I know that I am not afraid. I do not deny, nor vent such frustrations any longer. I do not feel under the weight of despair, nor do I feel the need for a second chance to change. My dream has revealed to me that this is my second chance. This is my opportunity to learn how it all began and maybe predict where it is all going.
I wait, in confidence, as the sun sets beyond the horizon, that I will put to my east the past. A new life, a new understanding, will rise from that east and lead me to a new future. That sun, that direction, that way of life to the new horizon, is named Lily.
DO RETURN FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER OF VAMPINORE . . .
If you had a choice to leave everything and everyone you cared about behind, to follow and devote your life to a vampire's will, would you?
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