Alright, chapter 10. Hmm interesante. Yep, up till then it had been the
events leading up to the death of Anne. Now this is the chapter where it
all happens. Cairbre's brief yet important role in DIMV. Most of it is a
memory. I know.. . . . . Enjoy!
~*~*Chapter ten~*~*
It's been a year since I was changed. Many vampires would say that animal blood tastes horrible. I disagree. The only time I had drunk from a human was the night I awoke and left Kendra with her Vida knife. I haven't seen her since. And ever since that first taste of innocence running down my throat, I have shunned all mortal kind. Animal blood is the only blood I know, although sometimes I taste the hot human blood in my dreams.
Just as I have shunned mortals, I shun my own kind as well. How they ENJOY killing what they had been, how they leave the dead to rot, it all disgusts me. I am not hypocriting myself. I bury the animals I have accidently killed and say a prayer, although the prayer seems to scorch my throat. I was never a true believer in God, but nonetheless I feel as if I had let him down. I admit I was going to die by my own hand, which is a sin, but Kendra had let me die and yet forced me to watch the world forget me. I have sinned either way but I will not confess in a church. My blood itself the greatest sin and it cannot be purified.
I think about all of this as I bury a small rabbit in my cemetery. I mutter the prayer but it is now just a reflex. I don't even know the words anymore.
For some unknown reason, I go to my own grave, although there is no body in the coffin where the dead are meant to stay. My family and several friends had put some of my favorite things in the oak box. My paints, my sketch book, even my favorite books and clothing. How do I know that? I had been there.
The second thing I had learned how to do as a vampire was to change my eyes or my hair. The first thing I learned was how to move myself with my mind. And that was in the first few minutes of awakening.
The funeral was rather odd. Many from school attended it, and they all placed a rose on the coffin before it was lowered. A vampire, whom I still don't know, placed a black rose among the crimson and chalk white roses. It stuck out rather boldly. The school even has a memorial for me. I guess they assumed that I was killed and chopped up into little pieces by that murderer that had killed more than 20 students.
Now I go to that memorial, while school is in session. All my friends have graduated, or at all the smart ones. I hope no one recognizes me, and so I change my ash hair to a brownish reddish rusty color and my eyes to an eerie green. Just a precaution, I tell myself.
The memorial is rather beautiful. Stained-glass roses surround a giant statue of a boy and a girl sitting on a bench, their eyes gazing heavenward. The girl stood for all the girls murdered, and the boy stood for me. I was the only boy "killed" by this murderer. And the boy statue did look like me, but I think my nose is too big.
"Sir?" The sudden voice startles me. Although I had sensed her behind me, I didn't expect her to talk to me. "Did you know Cairbre?" Her voice sounds strained. My body tensed.
"Yeah," I answered, adjusting the baseball cap on my mop of hair. "He didn't talk much though."
"No," she agreed, "He didn't. He expressed his feelings through his art." I wonder what she was getting at?
"What are you suggesting?" My art had been dark and full of pain. This girl knew me too well as a human and even if I tried to disguise my voice, it didn't work.
"Cairbre . . . " Her voice was full of suppressed tears. I had loved this girl as a human. But my bloodlust had taken me over. I turned and grabbed her, then took her to the park and killed her.
I held her body in my arms, blood dripping down my chin. It had tasted so good. . . .I shuddered and dropped her to the ground. Flashes of memory had hit me as I had drank her hot blood, full of life.
I wasn't sure how long I stayed there, staring at her body. She was an innocent. I had killed her. I refused to pray for her, to bury her body. I couldn't find the words in my throat.
After a few more minutes, I left to go to another town. I lived around major cities for a few years, just to learn how to observe humans in their environment and not end up killing one. I promised myself that I would never go back home, but humans make those promises. They never live forever. My kind does. And when I am strong enough, I will return home.
I pull myself from my thoughts as I appear right by the church. Instantly I put all the humans under my newly required mind control. I am surprised that I could not do it in the first place.
******************************************
I see the woman with the two witches. No, I correct myself, one witch. Caryn, the daughter, had gone elsewhere. This is my chance. I push back all my morals and just act on instinct. I appear by the woman Anne Allodola and pull her into my grasp. Then I move us back away from the witches. Quickly I fumble with the piece of scrap paper in my pocket and I shove it into her hand before I go to bite her.
A harsh punch hits my jaw and I stumble back. My mind swirls and I know that if I don't kill Anne, Rabe will die. I snap her neck before I stumbled back from the blow. Then my gaze fell on Jessica, beautifully deadly, then to the crowd of humans on their way to church, the witches who were too scared to move, then the crowd again. If I fought the witches, I wouldn't be able to hold my new control on the humans. That would mean bloodshed, whether I liked to consider it or not. I never had to fight for my life against a witch, let alone surrounded by 40 or 50 people. With one more glance at Jessica, almost as an apology, I left.
Without much thought of where I was going, I went to my grave. I was on my knees on top of it. A single red rose lay on top of my tombstone and I grip my hair and cry for the official loss of my humanity.
~*~*Chapter ten~*~*
It's been a year since I was changed. Many vampires would say that animal blood tastes horrible. I disagree. The only time I had drunk from a human was the night I awoke and left Kendra with her Vida knife. I haven't seen her since. And ever since that first taste of innocence running down my throat, I have shunned all mortal kind. Animal blood is the only blood I know, although sometimes I taste the hot human blood in my dreams.
Just as I have shunned mortals, I shun my own kind as well. How they ENJOY killing what they had been, how they leave the dead to rot, it all disgusts me. I am not hypocriting myself. I bury the animals I have accidently killed and say a prayer, although the prayer seems to scorch my throat. I was never a true believer in God, but nonetheless I feel as if I had let him down. I admit I was going to die by my own hand, which is a sin, but Kendra had let me die and yet forced me to watch the world forget me. I have sinned either way but I will not confess in a church. My blood itself the greatest sin and it cannot be purified.
I think about all of this as I bury a small rabbit in my cemetery. I mutter the prayer but it is now just a reflex. I don't even know the words anymore.
For some unknown reason, I go to my own grave, although there is no body in the coffin where the dead are meant to stay. My family and several friends had put some of my favorite things in the oak box. My paints, my sketch book, even my favorite books and clothing. How do I know that? I had been there.
The second thing I had learned how to do as a vampire was to change my eyes or my hair. The first thing I learned was how to move myself with my mind. And that was in the first few minutes of awakening.
The funeral was rather odd. Many from school attended it, and they all placed a rose on the coffin before it was lowered. A vampire, whom I still don't know, placed a black rose among the crimson and chalk white roses. It stuck out rather boldly. The school even has a memorial for me. I guess they assumed that I was killed and chopped up into little pieces by that murderer that had killed more than 20 students.
Now I go to that memorial, while school is in session. All my friends have graduated, or at all the smart ones. I hope no one recognizes me, and so I change my ash hair to a brownish reddish rusty color and my eyes to an eerie green. Just a precaution, I tell myself.
The memorial is rather beautiful. Stained-glass roses surround a giant statue of a boy and a girl sitting on a bench, their eyes gazing heavenward. The girl stood for all the girls murdered, and the boy stood for me. I was the only boy "killed" by this murderer. And the boy statue did look like me, but I think my nose is too big.
"Sir?" The sudden voice startles me. Although I had sensed her behind me, I didn't expect her to talk to me. "Did you know Cairbre?" Her voice sounds strained. My body tensed.
"Yeah," I answered, adjusting the baseball cap on my mop of hair. "He didn't talk much though."
"No," she agreed, "He didn't. He expressed his feelings through his art." I wonder what she was getting at?
"What are you suggesting?" My art had been dark and full of pain. This girl knew me too well as a human and even if I tried to disguise my voice, it didn't work.
"Cairbre . . . " Her voice was full of suppressed tears. I had loved this girl as a human. But my bloodlust had taken me over. I turned and grabbed her, then took her to the park and killed her.
I held her body in my arms, blood dripping down my chin. It had tasted so good. . . .I shuddered and dropped her to the ground. Flashes of memory had hit me as I had drank her hot blood, full of life.
I wasn't sure how long I stayed there, staring at her body. She was an innocent. I had killed her. I refused to pray for her, to bury her body. I couldn't find the words in my throat.
After a few more minutes, I left to go to another town. I lived around major cities for a few years, just to learn how to observe humans in their environment and not end up killing one. I promised myself that I would never go back home, but humans make those promises. They never live forever. My kind does. And when I am strong enough, I will return home.
I pull myself from my thoughts as I appear right by the church. Instantly I put all the humans under my newly required mind control. I am surprised that I could not do it in the first place.
******************************************
I see the woman with the two witches. No, I correct myself, one witch. Caryn, the daughter, had gone elsewhere. This is my chance. I push back all my morals and just act on instinct. I appear by the woman Anne Allodola and pull her into my grasp. Then I move us back away from the witches. Quickly I fumble with the piece of scrap paper in my pocket and I shove it into her hand before I go to bite her.
A harsh punch hits my jaw and I stumble back. My mind swirls and I know that if I don't kill Anne, Rabe will die. I snap her neck before I stumbled back from the blow. Then my gaze fell on Jessica, beautifully deadly, then to the crowd of humans on their way to church, the witches who were too scared to move, then the crowd again. If I fought the witches, I wouldn't be able to hold my new control on the humans. That would mean bloodshed, whether I liked to consider it or not. I never had to fight for my life against a witch, let alone surrounded by 40 or 50 people. With one more glance at Jessica, almost as an apology, I left.
Without much thought of where I was going, I went to my grave. I was on my knees on top of it. A single red rose lay on top of my tombstone and I grip my hair and cry for the official loss of my humanity.