Nikola Tesla was alone in the library, far back in the corner that held the old books. He sat in a large chair with a small table next to him, in a circle of light in the cavernous dark room. On the table were a lamp, an empty wine bottle, a half full bottle of wine, and an empty glass. It was one a.m., and the room, the entire Sanctuary, was utterly silent.
The book in his lap remained closed, unread, a ruse for anyone who entered the room. He was thinking about his life, and that was a private thing, not to be shared. Not that anyone was likely to come in this time of night, but hiding his innermost thoughts behind a book or an experiment had become habit.
The room was eerily still and empty; and then it wasn't. He sensed a change; he was no longer alone, even though no one had come through the door. But there was certainly someone, something, there in the dark. His vampire senses told him so, though not through the usual five; a sense unique to his species then, because he was quite sure he was being watched from somewhere in the darkness.
"Show yourself" he said softly, and after a moment, something did emerge, although not quite into the light. He had never seen it before, but he recognized it. It did not look like the popular image. It was a being insubstantial, yet inexorable. It was certainly not a skeleton in black robe. Its eyes, if it had any, did not glow red, it carried no blade. But Nikola could understand how a human mind, gibbering in front of this being, might invent such an image to protect its own sanity. He had no need for such a construct and preferred to see it as it was: there and not there, solid but translucent, not quite alive in this reality and yet with all the qualities of a living being.
"What do you want?" Nikola asked it, unafraid of the answer; as a vampire, he was as immortal as he chose to be.
"You summoned me" it said, more in his mind than his ears.
That surprised Nikola, he was unaware he could do such a thing. But since he had no idea how to summon this being, he could neither confirm nor deny the act. He asked "I can call you whenever I wish?"
"Only your race summons me; I go to all others whether they will it or not."
Nikola poured himself a glass of wine, and took a sip. "There are billions of people; I would think you wouldn't have time for conversation."
"I am a collective being; there are as many of me as needed. I have all the time there is."
This was interesting. Nikola decided a long chat might be in order. "Would you like to sit down? Can I offer you refreshment?"
Nikola wasn't sure, but the being might have laughed; it was a sound that Nikola felt rather than heard. "No, and only one of your kind would offer."
"What's your name?"
"A name is a means of differentiating one being from another; I am unique, I have no need of one. Call me whatever you wish."
"Death, the Grim Reaper, Mr. Monkeyshines?"
Nikola got no response. The being just waited, so he tried a different question.
"How did I summon you?"
"You long for me tonight."
Nikola opened his mouth to deny it, but closed it again. He had been feeling very depressed, thinking about all that he had lost, and all that he would never have. His family, his friends had died long ago. His career was in abeyance, perhaps permanently. The Nikola Tesla the world knew had been dead for many years; he refused to patent his work under any other name, but he found pretending to be his own grandson repugnant. So he stopped patenting, which meant he either gave away everything he did for free, or he kept his ideas to himself. Neither choice was acceptable in the long run, although in the short run, well, Henry had a family to support and needed the income . . . no, Henry no longer needed income.
And it seemed whatever Nikola created and gave to the world, humans found a way to use as a weapon. He wanted to make life better for them; he'd been one himself at one time, he'd come from a human family. But over and over they used his creations, even his newly discovered principles, against each other. Nikola had spent the evening trying to find a solution to his dilemma, to think of a way he could work without doing unintended damage, and give himself the fame and fortune he had deserved for so long. He hadn't succeeded.
He was always alone, even when he was with others who accepted him. Humans and Abnormals withered and died, so Nikola had preferred not to be liked, so he wouldn't like in return. He felt the pain of loss too much and he had vowed to never get close to any of the ephemeral people around him again. He had come close to keeping that vow . . .
He didn't have friends, he had friend, just the one. Helen was his only friend, but she was stronger than he, although he would never admit it. She made friends with humans and suffered their loss over and over. He just couldn't do it, it hurt too much. So she had many friends and he didn't; he needed her more than she needed him, but he refused to be clingy. If she had no time for him then he would be alone, again, still.
The last straw had been Henry. Henry had been smart, talented, funny, patient and tolerant, and Nikola had liked him a great deal. They never spoke of it, but Nikola was sure Henry had liked him too, although their conversations had consisted mostly of technical consultations and inventive insults. But Henry was a HAP; his life had been long for his kind, but over in hardly more than an instant to Nikola. The funeral had been today. Nikola had made a brief appearance, but he refused to let his feelings show; they were private, not for public display.
So he sat in the library, trying and failing to find another path to continuing his work. And Helen . . . perhaps he should give up on Helen. He loved her, and wanted to be more than her friend. But she had rejected his overtures so many times it had turned into a joke between them. That hurt too, but he played the game with her, because she wanted it that way.
Feeling depressed and sorry for himself, drowning himself in wine, he had managed to summon Death. Well at least it was the most interesting thing that had happened in a long time.
The being had waited, still and patient, while Nikola reviewed all his reasons for being depressed, for despairing, for wanting his existence to end. In a way, having Death come to him actually lightened his mood a bit. There was a way out, whenever he wanted it, and he didn't have to do anything messy or excessively destructive to leave this world. That was good to know.
"What happens if I go with you?"
"You may not know that until you do. You have made a decision?"
Nikola hesitated. He had no work, no friends except the one who would keep him perpetually as just a friend, and the world no longer cared about him. It would go on just as it always had, the same things happening over and over just in different ways in different places to different generations. But if he made this decision, he wouldn't be able to change his mind if he didn't care much for being dead.
And he was only just over two hundred years old; only weak vampires died that young. He wasn't weak, and didn't want to be remembered that way. And Helen . . . Helen would know that he had chosen to die, she knew enough about vampires to know they didn't sit down and die unless they wanted to. He was just her friend, but what would it do to her to know he had despaired and chosen this, and left her to face alone the years, decades, centuries? Well, she would have other friends, one after another, on and on.
The being waited. Nikola sipped his wine. Whether it was pride, or hope that Helen would turn to him someday as more than a friend, Nikola didn't know, but he said "I have. I'll stay, for now."
He heard a footstep in the hallway, and the library door opened. He was alarmed for the moment, that whoever came in would confront Death, but there was no one in the room besides himself. He opened the book in his lap and pretended to read.
Helen came in and said "My goodness it's dark in here" and switched on a lamp near the door. Nikola looked up as her heels echoed across the large room.
She sat down in the chair opposite him, near where the being had been. She shivered a little and looked around, but of course there was nothing to see but the Sanctuary library. She turned back to him and asked "How are you old friend?"
Nikola shrugged and just said "Vampire."
"I don't mean physically. I know you and Henry were close. I'm sorry that we haven't had time to talk, but Henry's four children, their spouses, fifteen grandchildren, and three great grandchildren have kept me rather busy."
"Yes, I noticed the little werewolves bounding through the halls."
"Nikola . . ."
"Fine, HAPs, but you know werewolf is more descriptive"
"You overdid your look of boredom at the funeral. Don't worry, I'm sure no one else could tell, but it worried me a bit."
Nikola looked down and fiddled with his book. "I liked Henry."
"I know. I loved him too."
The fact that he didn't correct her told her a great deal. "What were you two working on?"
"It doesn't matter, it was his project; I was just heckling."
Helen let it pass, even though she knew better. Henry had patented the most astonishing things in the last forty years, and while he was brilliant in his own right, she knew who was the true genius behind the most complex and innovative of his creations.
"Then if you haven't got anything in the works, I have a list of a few items I could use. I sent it to your computer, take a look and let me know what you can do, all right?"
Nikola responded with one crisp nod. Her list would be something to spend some of his interminable hours on at least, even though his creations for her would earn him no money and no fame. But knowing the odd creatures she dealt with, there might be something interesting on it at least.
Helen stood up and walked to his chair, opening her arms as she came. "Give me a hug then."
He rose and folded her carefully, gently in his arms. They both knew who needed the hug. "Stay with me Nikola, please?" she said, her face buried against his neck.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He would never understand how she knew what was going on in his head, but she always did. "As long as you want me to, as long as you need me" he said softly.
"Forever then, forever."