"you ruffian! Get your FUCKING ass back here!!"
I stuck out my tongue at the stall vendor, and ran through the narrow streets carrying the loot on my back, two large juicy melons.
"catch me if you can!" I yelled over my shoulder not looking were I was going, with full speed I collided with a town official who was not happy to see me.
"Right young sir, will you please hand me your loot?" he asked with a severe tone, "or I will have to take it from you."
"I'm terribly sorry sir, I see the error of my ways, here are the melons." I held out my hands with the two melons and just when the official was about to take them, I dropped them. I myself of course didn't care about the melons, I don't eat, but I do drink, and this large specimen made for a good drink.
"Why you!" he yelled, and the chase was on, I nimbly dodged the stalls weaving through the people, the official however, pushed everyone aside. These were the late dark ages 1497 in Russia, people were very easily annoyed and the market square was filled with irritated yells quickly. The bloke followed me outside the city gates into the forest were my brothers Vic and Reg lay in ambush. I passed them and stopped running. I slowly came to a full stop and turned around.
"Sorry sir, but I am one of the last people you will see alive, say your prayers…" I said smiling weakly, I had chosen the most sickening one for lunch. The official looked at me in total bewilderment and he pulled out his sword.
"You have guts, well, come on then, fight me." He said with a loud voice.
"Sorry, but I will not go at it alone, my bratja will help me."
"And where be these bratja of yours?"
"We are here, constable." Reg said as he and Vic appeared from the bushes. Reg was my older brother, born in Russia and found by Conrad at the age of fifteen, fifty years before he found me. This exact murder would cost him his life.
"We do not like to do this you know," Reg continued, "But our father demands it, we must know the taste of royal blood, or so he says."
"But…" the official said bleakly and he gripped his sword firmly.
"Let us kill him," Vic, who normally was the silent one, said with determination. I grabbed our victim by his hairs and pulled him backwards with ease. He dropped his sword and fell to his knees.
"Go Reg, you can kill him." I said softly and smiled. Reg came closer and he bared his teeth.
"No… Please, No!..." the official muttered, "I have gold, you can take all, just… please… let me live."
"We do not long for gold, we long for your blood." I whispered in his ear, and smiled devilish. Reg agreed with a growl and a malign smile and he sunk he teeth deep into the neck of his victim. The official screamed, he gasped and with one hand tried to free himself from Reg's grip. His arm went limp and Reg assumed he was dead. He released his grip and stood up. His victim lay on the ground bleeding violently. Reg kneeled next to him and licked his blood, enjoying every drop. He didn't notice that the official wasn't dead yet and that he had pulled a large knife. With one last power burst the official stabbed his knife deep into Reg's chest.
"Reg!!" I yelled useless as my brother's body sank to the forest floor, "You do not die easy? Right?!" I screamed at his lifeless body which didn't move. His body came back to life and stumbled to his feet.
"Nope…" he said and he smiled his I'm-more-than-okay-smile. But when he walked towards me the opposite was true: he fell to his knees and took shallow breaths. He pressed his hand firmly against his wound and looked at the knife of the official. The sharp metal looked dull in the clouded-over sunlight and at its edge stuck deep red blood.
" I will be alright, but you have to get the hell out of here." Reg said, "The townsfolk will have heard us, and they will come to investigate. Go!" we knew Reg wouldn't make it, and that he'd be beheaded at the town square when they found him here with the body, but his eyes, black as they might be, told truth, and he wanted us to leave. I kneeled by his side and lay my hand on his forehead and smiled, "Krov Bratja?"
"Krov Bratja…" Reg answered.
Back at our forest lair, we felt the loss of our brother, painful and raw.
"We could have rescued him," I said to Vic, eyes wandering, looking for grip on the living world. Trees were spinning, birds were screaming. They say vampires are dead immortal and most importantly soulless creatures. But grief, most definitively, falls inside our emotional range.
"No we could not…" Vic said, attempting to cheer me up, but his eyes told a different truth. A truth in which we were to blame for the fate that now rested on our brother's shoulders. Vic was older than I was , 21 years old, when he was bitten. I knew him before this, his human half, partly because it was me who forced Conrad to bite him. I thought him to be ignorant, wanted him to see truth in this world. And back then thought that being immortal offered the best truth. I know now, that being immortal completely warps your perception of truth, and that our blessing is more of a curse.
Poor Reg… May your soul find peace…
Poor Vic, may you ever find the real truth…