Semza Deus

Semza Deus

By AlantisB

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING! ^.^ But the plot, of course.

A/N: Wow! I got chapter two out sooner then I thought, cool huh? I hope you like it because I worked very hard to make you a very good, and very different type of vampire story.

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I am the Guardian Angel of a vampire. My name is Heero Yuy and I've been punished to guard a child of the enemy I had when I was alive. I'm sure you readers have read the introduction to this little book I've written carefully, it wouldn't surprise me since you are obviously reading it now. But I have never written anything in my life or afterlife - which would be surprising to all of you mortals. Heaven isn't as glamorous as you make it to be with your book of God you wrote around the time of the prophet Jesus. There are no golden gates, no singing choirs of angels that do nothing all day but play harps and be pretty, no St. Peter asking you the meaning of life when you enter the gates – oh no! If you really thought that then your even more insane then my charge, and I'm telling you that is pretty crazy. I've been living with him for 5,000 years now, I know him inside and out. I know his secrets, his pain, and his love.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I?

The reason I'm writing this book is to make an impact upon the world of humans and vampires alike. I have read those books of vampires that have written their history on these bleached sheets of trees with little type writers or computers. I have read the blockbuster books you all think of as fantasy; The Interview of the Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, The Queen of the Damned. Perhaps you'll think of my book too, as fantasy of a delusional writer that has no life but to make up fake history to sell in bookstores. I would be very disappointed if no one at least entertained the possibility of this all being real. Perhaps you may think it is when I finish telling my story to you. But enough of this, I'm getting off the topic.

I want to write a little about life and most of my afterlife. I want to share my story with you if you feel you wish to read it for it is a very long tale that no doubt would possibly make you loose interest in the middle of it, or maybe not. I don't know, I don't pretend to comprehend what you insane humans think today.

As in the introduction, I have entertained the possibility of touching things solid with just a little concentration. It is tiring, I will admit to that groggily. But I have eternality at my fingertips as the saying goes and all the time in the world to complete my tale to you. I wish to give you a part of myself like those vampires that have written their stories; perhaps the Talamasca shall put my book in their faults too with the vampire books if they ever read mine. Oh, you didn't think of the Talamasca of the vampire books as real, did you? It is a real organization and they are as old as they claimed to be. But I have no reason to explain it to you for there are only so many pages of trees in the world for me to write my story on; I don't want to kill any more by wasting ink and precious paper telling you things you already know.

I suppose you want me to tell my tale to you? Alright, find a nice comfortable place where you won't be disturbed because I assure you my tale is as enticing as any of the Vampire Chronicle books you've read and you won't be able to put it down. I'll start at the beginning of my life, because it is the best place to start a tale.

I lived in a small village off the Tigris River in Egypt with my father. My mother is long dead, she died of an illness I have no knowledge of when I was just a small child in my bed. I can't remember too much of her but what I remember I could tell she was a beautiful woman, quite possibly the most beautiful one in the village. No doubt the image of her has faded with time in my mind, but I remember her eyes and hair clearly as if she was standing before me. Allahr, my mother, was a very exotic woman with her long black hair that curled naturally at the tips and deep soulful blue eyes that I had inherited from her.

Allahr was very kind and loved me very much. When I was seven, before the illness got the better of her, she used to take me to the woods every day. I would walk with her as fast as I could with my little legs trying to keep up with her long strides she did with her long legs. She would take me to the center of the forest where a small stream flowed, she and I would play in the stream getting soaking wet and tired but I remember having so much fun playing that she didn't mind too much that I got her wet. Then we would lay in the sun that peaked through the treetops and dry off while she would tell me stories of ancient warriors who defended the land from the Egyptians that wanted to take over our little village for the land.

"Listen to me, Heeh Roh," Allahr picked me up from my seat on a rock and sat me in her lap. She stroked my hair and I laid my head on her chest listening to her breath and her heartbeat. It soothed me and I could feel myself drifting off for a light sleep. "One day, when you grow to be strong you will be a warrior. The finest in the village!" I looked up at her wondering if what she said was true, and she smiled down at me with that secret smile only she and I shared. I smiled back.

I was in love with her, but not the way a man loves a woman but the way a man loves a goddess. She was my world, my everything! I would have torn down heaven if she asked me to even at that age for I held a great respect for her. I watched as she brushed my bangs from my eyes. "You will be such a find warrior, my little man. You will bring pride to us." She breathed deeply as if loosing her breath and I frowned, gazing up at her. I knew her illness was getting worse, it was only a little time left before my Allahr, my mother, left me alone with my cold father. I didn't want that, I wanted her love and kindness. I didn't want to be my father, for surely that was what my father wanted me to be and if my mother died then I would be him.

"Come, let us go back to the village. Our clothes are dry now."

That night, while I lay in my straw bed, I could hear my mother's terrible coughing. It was a deep, throaty cough that shook her whole body from the effort. She had a chest illness, a very bad one and she was coughing up blood sometimes. I could see it when she would try and wash it out on her clothes whenever she was doing laundry. I feared the day she would die, for I didn't want to be alone. She was my only connection to love, to my happiness and to my soul.

My father scolded her, told her to get up and make dinner like a wife should. He was a very violent and cold man. I don't think he married my mother for anything else but her cooking and her looks. My mother was like a proud, shining prize that he had won and now he is abusing it because he was bored and needed someone to pick on. I didn't like my father at all, he ignored me until it was training time. He would pay attention to me then, teaching me how to be a warrior like him and a good hunter for the village. I hated those training sessions because it was more like beatings for me. I wasn't as strong as he was or as fast. So I would get hit a lot more then my father when we sparred to test my skills. But then my mother would gather me into her arms like a shining angel and take me into the hut to treat my wounds and then everything was okay again.

The next morning I awoke to silence in the hut. There was no coughing, no sneezing, and no yelling father. I got up quickly from my bed and raced into my mother's room to see her lying on the bed and I stopped in shock. I shook myself from the foreboding feeling I was getting and I walked closer. I noticed how pale she was and her lips! The lips were a pale blue, 'the kiss of death' as my village put it whenever someone died. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I stared at my mother, my Allahr, and I climbed in next to her and hugged her body as strong as I could with my seven-year old body. I didn't make a sound when I cried; my tears just slipped down my face without any sound. That was the last time I ever cried in my lifetime.

The older women of the village came in the room a little while later and gently took my arms off from around my mother's cold body and one of them hugged me for comfort. I didn't feel it at all and I stared at my mother's body sadly. The other two older women lifted up my mother and carried her out of the room to prepare the body for the feasting ceremony.

All day I could think of nothing but the feasting ceremony. I would take part in it, I decided. I wanted my mother's knowledge and maybe if I ate her heart, I could feel her love forever. It was a comforting thought and it kept me from breaking down throughout the whole day. But the night eventually came closing in and my father and I dressed up in our fanciest clothes. We headed towards the temple where the smell of burning flesh reached my nostrils I almost got sick right at the side of the road. I had never been at a feasting before, and the smell had shocked me terribly. I continued onward, ignoring the hurling of my stomach and we walked into the temple.

The people of the village recited ancient prayers to our gods asking them to guild my mother to her final resting-place. Two young girls, both about the age of sixteen, brought out a plate that held the cooked heart on the ceremonial golden piece. I had skipped dinner because of this feast and in the back of my mind I hoped that it wouldn't taste nasty but I pushed the thought from my mind. This was for my mother's honor and her knowledge.

I got up from the kneeling position and walked to the front of the temple. I kneeled down at the feet of the two girls and they gently placed the plate before me. I said a quick prayer to the gods and I grabbed the heart and bit into it. Cooked blood gushed into my mouth and I swallowed eagerly and took another bite. The flesh was warm and was nearly tasteless; for flavor was never added to it. I could feel the heart going down my throat and into my stomach. I had my mother's heart! I could almost feel her knowledge pouring into me. I finished about ten minutes later and used the cloth of my sleeve to wipe my mouth to get rid of the blood that dripped onto my lips and I closed my eyes to savor the moment of finishing my mother's heart. I had my mother's heart, my Allahr's heart, now and forever. No one could take it away from me because I had her love. I could almost feel arms wrapping around me gently and hugging me. I felt so warm and safe. I looked up toward the ceiling and I felt lips brush mine before I felt them disappear as if it never happened.

Years later, I was the best hunter of the village. My father dreamed of making me the perfect soldier but I had my mother's heart with me so I didn't completely summit to the training. I didn't become the cold man my father was, but I was close. I never spoke unless there was a reason and I never indulged in human pleasures with women for I was focused on my training. But it paid off for I was a warrior with a heart, even if it was a cold one. But I had a heart and I think my mother would be proud of me. No, I knew she was for sometimes like the night of the ceremony, I could feel her love. It was just like before, warm and safe. I felt so special.

It was dark and the full moon tonight and it lit the path down into the small forest just near the village. My band of hunters are with me and we needed to scope out the area for either Egyptians or any near by game for food. The night creatures were just starting to wake up in the forest and it created a wonderful tone of the forest with all the chirping, the rustling of animals, and the survival. That made me feel slightly calm but tense as a bowstring. I had the same foreboding feeling I did the night my mother died and it made me shiver from an unseen chill.

I double-checked my bow and arrow and made sure my dagger was secure in my boot before I had left the village because you could never know when you are attacked by Egyptians. They were very cunning and ruthless to get what they wanted, but the Egyptians were intelligent enough to give you a good fight if you were caught unprepared. I didn't plan on being unprepared.

A young man my age with a strange hairstyle that consisted of his bangs covering over one of his eyes, smirked at me as he followed beside me. He was from my village but he was adopted. He and his family had come from up north when they said they met up with the Egyptians that attacked their own village for land. The Elders took pity on them and allowed them to stay with us. For any enemy of the Egyptians were allies to us. He was the closest thing to a friend that I had ever had, I think. "Think the Egyptians will attack us tonight?" He said airily, but it was only in a tone that would keep others from listening in on their conversation for it was known many people in the tribe were very nosy. I don't like nosy people.

"Hn. You know better then to ask that, Troh Wah." I replied while rolling my eyes lightly to show a slight joking tone I had to it. I was never really one to express emotions in my voice since my mother died, I found it a profound weakness in battle. Sorry, that was the training speaking that my father put me through, the bastard. "The Egyptians will attack just like they did yesterday and the day before."

Troh Wah nodded and hushed the younger warriors to be quiet as the forest had suddenly became just as quiet. Troh Wah was an excellent hunter, perhaps better then me even. He had this connection to the animals that I had never seen before, I think he was a priest of some-sort. I was a priest too. I had been made one just only a few months ago in our little temple, the same one my mother's feasting ceremony took place. I was the High Priest General. It meant I was in charge of the warriors and I demanded the highest respect other then the Elders. Many people feared me while others hated me. You can say I got used to it, kinda.

No crickets chirped; bugs were not buzzing about looking for food for the night. Something was in the forest that shouldn't be there and every soldier in our group tensed up and reached slowly for their weapons. I had already grabbed an arrow from my arrow case on my back and sat it gently onto the bow, ready to be used on whatever silenced the forest.

"DAMN!"

SHO-WACK!

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Whew! Man I never thought writing in first-person POV was so hard! ^.^ Hmm, well I hope you liked this chapter. I know the chapters are short but I promise they will get better. I just couldn't think of a good place to stop and this seemed like a good cliff-hanger point!

So do you all think I'm doing good for Heero? I never really tried to get into his head, I've only done Duo's head and they got some major differences. Anyway, tell me what you think.

Oh yah! For all of those people who have never read the Anne Rice Vampire Chronicles, read them! They're very good! My favorite one is The Vampire Lestat and Interview with a Vampire. Please tell me what you think of this chapter okay? Thanks for reading!

If you didn't know:

Troh Wah- Trowa

Heeh Roh- Heero

Allahr- A slight change in the muslim way to say "God". But "allahr" means "Angel" in Heero's er, ancient lanugage. ^.^;;

-AlantisB