Maria
1976: a year that really isn't remembered for anything good. The fact that Jimmy Carter was elected, finally giving end to that hellish Nixon era, was about the only highlight. For the two of us though, it was the year: Juniors at New York University, working on degrees in Occult Mythology. Even after all these nights I can still remember that one. You and I had been working on Professor Coolran's term paper. How little we knew then. You took me out to dinner, nothing fancy- but I still go back to that place sometime, retrace our steps through the Park. You stopped me right underneath Cleopatra's needle. You went through your usually rant about how the monolith had been built by Tuthmosis III, almost 1500 years before Cleopatra's reign. It was cute, but back then everything about you was cute.
You took my hand then and repeated the words of the dedication. You had such a fondness for the obelisk and its history. I remember your voice, not the shy demeanor you presented to our professors and friends, but the bold, forceful words of a man who had a vision of the future.
"Who indeed can tell what our nation will do if any perversity is possible of realization, and yet this obelisk may ask us, 'Can you expect to flourish forever? Can you expect wealth to accumulate and man not decay? Can you think that the soft folds of luxury are to wrap themselves closer and closer around this nation and the pith and vigor of its manhood known no decay? Can it creep over you and yet the nation know no decrepitude?' These questions that may be answered in the time of the obelisk, but not in ours."
You turned to me, the love so bright in your eyes. "Maria," I could see you fumbling in your coat pocket. Your face was covered with sweat; your words seemed rehearsed, yet so incredibly heartfelt. "There are two things in this world that I am convinced are immortal. The first is this stone. The second is our love." I cried. I remember. I believe that night was the last night I ever cried, at least the cry of true salt-tainted tears. You were on a knee now, a ring in your hand.
Damn these tears now. They leave no comfort, no meaning; all they leave is a crimson trail. We walked back to our apartment. There was little time to celebrate; Professor Coolran would not accept our love as an excuse for a late assignment. You fumbled for the keys to the apartment, as I fumbled for the buttons of your shirt. The door pushed open, and there he was.
I was so scared. Of course, Professor Coolran had often conversed with the two of us, more intimately than he did with most of his students. But this- he was in our home. "She said yes, I presume? I could not stay to watch the whole thing, though it was quite touching."
"H-h-how did you know? You followed us?" You stammered, looking for words.
"Oh yes, I am sorry, this must all seem so strange to you. You see, I am an old man. But nothing gives me such glee as seeing two of my very best students finding true love. I am quite… happy for you, both of you. I wanted to be the first to congratulate you.
"But now one question remains? With the two of you so busy with your wedding plans- what shall become of that term paper, hmm?" A slight smile crossed his face then. It was so eerie. He had never smiled before, not that I could remember.
"And I believe I have the answer to both of those problems. Of course, it requires a small price, but offers great rewards."
I thank about it often. If you had known, would you still have done it? I made my decision many nights ago. The power, the knowledge. Those first nights… I never knew love could be shared in such a way. We seemed to spend eternity in each other's arms, and each other's souls. And him, he was always there. He loved us as well, a father. You were so happy to have one after so long.
How quickly can things go wrong? Those bastards came upon us so quickly. After twenty years of sharing endless nights in study with each other, delving into the inherent powers in our blood, a blood we now shared. I wonder if we were blind, or just so comfortable. They had struck the entire east coast for God's sake. Atlanta, Richmond, even Washington had all fallen before them. Professor Coolran was gone; he had been for several evenings. We didn't mind, when he was around, study was a must. Without him, it was just us.
It was so sudden, one moment I was wracked by the shear ecstasy that comes with your Kiss. The next, I felt those arms pulling us apart. Confusion gave way to anger, and fear. Never before had I seen something so massive. The Blood- only the Blood could save us. I drew as much as I could, forcing it, but it was no help. I watched in terror as they tore your limbs apart. That sweet blood, the blood I had tasted just moments before, spilled out before me.
Your face. I see it in my dreams. The torment; pain. It was so much more than we had ever been taught. Sabbat was a word, nothing more. Some nightmare from a time long ago, they could never find us. I have learned so much since then. Coolran was right on their heels, a moment too late. In all my life, and all my unlife, never have I seen such a sight. Fire, it burned around him, consumed him and yet he did not burn. Vitae, sweet crimson blood; streamed from your killer. Professor Coolran stood peaceful in the middle of a blazing inferno. The monster dropped, writhing in pain, screams of terror stopped just before its lips.
You asked the Professor once if we Kindred were capable of tears. He smiled at us again, that sickening smile. Thinking of his reply sickens me to this night.
"Why, yes. It is a most remarkable thing. Some of those weaker descendants of Caine can indeed cry. Though doing so is an admission of feeling, and something to be left behind with your human life, Steven."