Mortal Love
CHAPTER ONE: The Creature Within
Slate grey eyes stair intensely into a store window reflection back at me. Yet it isn't at the merchandise I gaze at, but inside myself. My long black hair lightly swaying in the brisk cold breeze which fills the downtown streets. My hand unconsciously wraps the black jacket tighter around me, trying futilely to keep the cold out. I furrows my brows as if I had been asked a very serious question which needed a considered answer. Sighing I close my eyes and listen to the rustle of feet and passing of cars behind me.
Why? I pause as I wonder why I pick such a trivial question. Why must I always end up in the same place. Never further or behind where I started. Why? I open my eyes and continue to stair into the glace window. Was it because I can never truly trust anyone? Is my lack of human emotion holding me back? I loved, once. Or so I believe. Love is yet another trivial answer or question. No one truly knows how to describe such an emotion. If it even is an emotion. I think of it more as a statement. Nothing really means of it, people just say it to get it off their chest in hope that it makes things better. It never truly does. I don't know why people don't get it. People. Yet another disturbing piece of existence. You never know what's truly going on with any of them. Sighing deeply, I leave my post in front of the window and slowly walk down the concret walkway.
People pass me in rushed motions. Hurriedly moving to wherever they need to go. Do they really need to be moving at such haste? Does whatever they need to go or do need so much attention they must rush over and past other people not caring if they inflict harm? Pity. Such existence is lost on such scheduled creatures. Controlled by time. I turn my gaze up to the sky. It is clear and crisp today. Hardly what I ever see in such a dirty and smogged town. A few birds float high up, scanning the area from above. I wonder what it is like to fly. I ask myself, taking a closer look at the birds. Wings. Feathers. Oh my, must it be exhilarating. Soaring above everything else. Feeling the wind underneath you. The feeling of being weightless. It makes me wonder why all creatures can't fly. I hear the loud blow of a car horn and turn my attention immediatly to the sound. A driver waves madly at pedestrians as they cross the street, urging them to move faster. Faster. It's an obsession some people take to an extreme. Fast cars. Fast food. Fast lifestyles. They all lead to a very fast death. I have seen death before. Seen it take many lives. Some deserved it. Some did not. But seriously, who is to judge who really deserves to die? What makes them worthy?
You must think of me as insane. Or else, not human. For the way I talk about people, humans, it isn't a bias observation. For I am not human. Then what are you? You may ask. What I am, is merely an old creature of fairy tales and myths. Living nearly five thousand years, I have been called many things. I was once human. Or so, I use to believe. So I was once told. I don't truly know if I believe in what I was told ages ago. About my being, about what I was. Am.
When I met him, the one who knew more about my existence than anyone before or after him, I was very young. In my terms of speaking. It was in India. He was a young slave. We met in a town market, they were very different from what you see today in that country. He was for sale by his master. So normally, feeling pity. I do feel emotions. I am not a completely monster, as some might lead you to believe. I bought him. Now, his knowledge. I had no clue where it came from. He wasn't normally a smart man, but the extent of his knowledge about my existence. The creature I am. The vampyre. It baffled and thrilled me. He could never truly explain why he knew what he knew. But honestly, I didn't care. The knowledge I gained, made me powerful. Skilled. And I was placed with the sad knowing I was alone. You see, since I do live for such a long time. It becomes very saddening. Watching people you once knew die. Seeing human kind go through such terror and hardships. Never once understanding what it felt like to fear death. To fear something so much and yet, never be able to explain why. I do not fear death. Death is a release, if you will. For when or if I die. I will finally be free. Living for eternity does not sound so appealing when you do it alone.
Of course there are many more creatures such as myself. But, I and them differ in very drastic ways. They are killers, merciless blood hungry, murders. Yes, I do indeed hunger for blood. But not to the extent where I must kill things to sustain myself. I made an oath, long ago. In India. To the Goddess Kali Ma. Some know her as the Goddess of Destruction, yet she was very kind and forgiving in my eyes. I vowed to never kill for my own pleasure. To only defend myself when I needed to. And. To never make another vampyre. In return I would be granted her grace and forgiveness. Seems like nothing? To you, yes. You have not grown into a world ruled by Goddess's and God's. You have not grown into a world filled with oblivion. So, naturally, in a world where even creatures as strong as I can be destroyed by God's and Goddess's. A Goddess's grace and forgiveness are like my escape out of jail free card.
Still making my way slowly down the concrete walk, my shoes making soft padding noises with my slow yet swift footsteps. The city rustle behind me as I leave the busy end of town, walking into the lush park. The trees are scattered with leaves of yellow, red and brown. Of all the seasons in the year, I love fall the most. Everything is preparing for a long sleep. Preparing to lay dormant while the rest of the world bears with the frigid winter. The wind seems to sigh as it rustles the leaves and brushes them to the ground. I had come to Canada on one of my world wide trips and secretly loved it. I was born in Russia. From what I remember. I have been there many times. And many times has it changed. It is very cold there. Vampyrs aren't much for the cold. We are like serpents, it saps our energy. But where I am now. City names are not important. People change them from time to time anyways. I like it here.
Cracking branches and pounding footsteps catch my attention as I see a young female come wildly out of the short brush beside the park walkway. She is slightly shorter than my 5'7 and has wildly bright blond hair, green eyes, and a very sleek and slender frame. Her eyes dart frantically about, as if searching for her life saver. She seems to have found it as her eyes lock on me and she dashes towards me. "Help! Please help! I am being followed. Please don't let him take me...please..", the girl sobs out frantically as she reaches me and falls to the ground and wraps herself around my legs. Giving a sympathetic look down at the girl, I then turn my attention to the brush she came out of. Seeing and hearing no response from the now dead silent trees I look down at the girl, who is now using my long jacket as a make-shift shield. As if the fabric could save her from anything at all. "I don't see anyone following you.", I hear my low silky voice say to the young female. "I swear. He's there. He's always there. Don't let him get me." I hear her muffled pleads through my jacket. Sighing slightly, I glance around the whole park. Looking for anyone to hand the obviously distressed woman to. No one. Pausing to think, I hear the girl muffle something out from under me. "What was that?". I ask. "My...my...my name is...Alexandria.", the girl managed to stumble out. "Well...Alexandria. Where do you live? Where is your parents? You can't be more than 17.", I ramble off, still looking for someone to dispense this nuisance off on. "I...I don't live anywhere. My parents died. I have no home.", with the last sentence the girl seems to go off into another one of her frantic sobs. Great. I close my eyes and think of ways to deal with this. I could leave her? But she is so mentally unstable. I could drop her off at a hospital? They always have room for the homeless don't they? And a young girls homeless shelter will take her in. Happy with the last answer I ask the girl,"Would you like me to take you to a hospital? You could get help there." "No, no. No hospital. Just take me with you. Anywhere, I don't care. I just don't want him to kill me." the girl cries. But you will surely die with me. Looking down at the girl I silently conclude. But if is your wish to die. Then so be it."Fine. You may come with me. But I don't know if that is truely safer than what you face out here." I reply, shaking my legs free from the girl and begining my walk down the parks walkway again. The girl looks mortified as she watches my form slowly move away. As if the words have not registered in her mind yet. She sits on the cold concrete staring at me from behind when the slow look of recondition crosses her face. "Oh...oh...wait up!" Alexandria calls as she drags her body off the ground and comes charging after me. She falls into step beside me, her eyes never leaving my face. "I...don't know what to say.", Alexandria begins now looking down at the ground, "What do I call you?" Call me? No one has ever want to call me anything besides a monster before. Looking at the girl for a moment I start to consider my choice of keeping this human pet. I consider giving her my current name. But I didn't really like it much. Since I knew she would tell no other. "Katia." I say with a sigh. Alexandria nods and continues on in silence.
Walking out of the small park, I look behind to see the possible routes the young girl came from. There's not many places she could have run from. What in the world was she running from? Why does she keep saying she doesn't want to die by him? Who's him? I silently stir over in my mind as I continue walking to my small apartment. Over the years I have moved from town to town, changing my name to keep suspicions down. I have gathered a small fortune as well, so money is never much of a hassle. Living for eternity. You collect a lot of things you don't have much use for.
Kind of like this girl. My grey eyes scan her again. Her tattered grey jogging pants, dirty pink tank top covered by a black hoodie, and the red vans she wore. She had to be from a well off family at some point. But her earlier statement of them being dead shattered the hope of dumping her off at her parents house. Well, as long as she doesn't ask about my past. I'll care nothing of hers. My thoughts were broken by the girls voice. "You can call me Xandria, for short if you want." Alexandria mumbled out, her hand slightly covering her mouth as she bit her finger nails. "Xandria." I repeated as I noted the name in my memory. So many names. So many deaths. Will she just be another to add to the list?