Chapter Thirteen: Lover's Requiem
The automatic door slid open. A tall Caucasian man strode through clutching a bouquet of tiger lilies. Several of the nurses giggled and chattered amongst themselves about the dashing man who comes to St. Sebastian's Hospital almost daily. He passed the reception desk with a curt nod and headed towards the elevators. A spidery finger pushed the up arrow and lights illuminated the descending numbers. Ding. The male entered the life and pressed the number three on his right. Behind him was a little old lady with a bun that flopped indecisively on her skull.
"Are you an angel?" she asked, dazed by the sculpture of a creature that seemed to have stepped out of the erotic novels that she was so keen on reading.
"Not quite," Gabriel answered humbly.
Ding. He exits and maneuvered down the stark white hallways. The voices of the dying and machinery flew into one ear and out the other. He made a left, right, and left. He was confidently sure that no one was 12-C and opened the door, entering quietly.
"Rowan?" he whispered. No reply. She still must be sleeping. He replaced the asphodel with tiger lilies. He threw the wither blossoms into the trash. Gabriel took a seat in an armchair that had his body's imprint because of the amount of time he spent there. He would perhaps spend all day gazing at his sweet, anticipating for her to wake from her Snow White slumber that his Prince's kiss could not break. The chair was positioned not too far away. His eyes passed over the needles that bruised her pale arms, tubers dangled out of multiple orficies and machinery that constantly beeped. He placed the side of his ankle on his other thigh and interlocked his spidery fingers.
"I went to church today for confession," Gabriel mused to the sleeping beauty. He had made it a habit to talk about his day. Doctors say that hearing a familiar voice will wake those in a coma by suggestive guidance. A strange thing the subconscious is.
" 'Forgive me, father for I have sinned. It has been a long, long time since my last confession,' I said"
" 'Tell me, my son,' Father Brian said, making the sign of the cross.'"
"I poured my heart to the stranger, telling him of my faults, love, murder…my sins. I personally thought that God tolerated vampires. We were once his people and we still are even when evolution took a step forward. God can be translated into Yahweh, Allah, Buddha and other poly gods. Then I told Father Brian that I was four hundred years old."
" 'You should not utter lies in the House of God,' Father Brian protested."
" 'I did not lie,' I answered. To prove my point, I used my inhumane speed. I do admit that it was flashy of me, but I had no other way to do it. Perhaps you would laugh at me Rowan and call me 'silly rabbit'. Now that I think about it—it was stupid of me, but you will be even more disappointed in me by what happened next. My body was a pallid blur as I made a trip around the church. Then I grabbed the father's white roman collar and lifted him off the ground single-handedly. I placed him down then galloped behind the pew where sunlight cascaded in through the stained glass windows. The results were as I sarcastically put it—sparkle, sparkle, Hallelujah. Father Brian fell to his knees and wept 'Saint Gabriel!'"
"I groaned. Even I left Mannequin to travel to Orlando, the news of my heavenly presence traveled east and lasted over eighteen months."
" 'No…please…get up…'I plucked Father Brian up his collar and forced him to stand. What he was when he looked at my face—I did not know, but it was enough to send him into horror. He screamed and wiggled out of my grip. He ran deeper into the church and probably headed for his office. I paced quickly after him."
"Patter. Patter. Patter. Whoosh. Whoosh. Patter. Patter. Patter. Whoosh. Whoosh. Slam! Click! Sigh!"
"I knocked on the door of the Father's office. No answer. I jiggled the door knob. It was locked obviously. I punched a hole in the door to get to the other side. I unlocked it so from my new entrance. The door swung open. Father Brian was standing with a bottle of Holy Water, a wooden cross in one hand and hammer in the other. I almost exasperatedly sigh for the superstitious fools. What use is in an item blessed by a human being?"
" 'Be gone, Devil. How dare you take on the face of the Evil-Slayer!" Father Brian splashed or rather sloshed Holy Water onto my ace. His face fell from anxiety to dread. He expected me to melt like the wicked Witch, but it felt rather refreshing. I wiped the water off my brow and readied myself for the onslaught. Father roared forward nobly with stake and hammer, ye ancient tools of vampire slaying."
"The wood contacted with my marble self and the hammer on the wood. The stake cracked and shattered into hundreds of little silvers. Unfortunately, some of the splinters drove themselves into Father's skull like .9 mm bullets. Blood gushed out from the wounds and stained the nice carpet. Sigh. Reluctantly I had to clean up the mess which meant feeding as the human vacuum. I would go into details, but it brings back distasteful memories. I think I have still have lint in my gums. I respectly crammed and buried Father Brian under the pew. Amen."
"Why would I reveal myself onto a stranger? I doubt you could comprehend it…"
Beepbeep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beepbeep. Beepbeepbeepbeep. Beep.
"That is a horrible pun on the Morse code, Rowan," the vampire commented. He rose from his seat and hovered over his beloved. Rowan's hair had somehow been bleached and her body dramatically lost 35 pounds. A frail husk. Gabriel stroked the side of her face and traced her lips with an icy finger. Her lips quivered in response to the coldness. His eyes averted with aching and sobbed quietly to himself.
"All I wanted to do was conquer Fate itself," he quoted. He glanced back at Rowan and to his surprise found a pair of gray eyes staring back at him.
"Why—are—you—complaining?" was the first thing that popped out of her mouth. She ripped the tube away that was taped under her nose.
"I am not complaining," he started to argue. Then he laughed. The laughter lightened his heart and cleared his lungs for oxygen that he was not necessary.
"You chose the greater of two evils," Rowan pointed out with an underlying tone of tease.
"Cease with the dramatics. You're not going to die," he exclaimed.
"Yah," the female propped her upper body onto her elbows. Gabriel quickly repositioned the pillow so she could sit up. "I am hungry…"
The vampire opened and closed his fist as he stared at the blonde woman-child in horror. It was the dreaded sense of déjà vu.
"Whaaaaaaa—?" she whined. Even underweight she was still the same. "I need 7,000 calories!"
"That is about six and quarter greasy cheeseburgers," he calculated, "including a side of low-sodium fries with fry sauce."
Rowan's laughter was strained. Hahaha. He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. And he headed towards the desk shoved into a corner. Whap! He froze and glanced over his shoulder to see Rowan leaning on the edge of her bed, hand outstretched. She spanked him!
"You have a bony ass," she commented, annoyed. Shock! Shock! Gabriel turned around to loom over her. The woman-child slowly got onto her knees and closed the distance between them until they were nose-to-nose.
"Stop—wallowing!" Rowan rasped. "Do you know how tired I am seeing her in your eyes? For bloody sakes', suck it up and move on! No! Do not say anything! What—do not give me that look! What the hell do I have to do? Fine! Fine! I will dye my hair! Happy? Happy?" Her voice escalated to sonic shrieks. Her heart pounded rapidly against her chest, her eyes were squinted with tears of fury. She grabbed the front of his shirt and shook him like a lunatic.
"I am—sorry," he whispered, forming each word carefully. His sapphire eyes were as clear as the Cassis sea. He wrapped his arms around her body and his face was etched with the wounded puppy look. Rowan wept—she wept in his place for his sorrow and hers.
"I will make it up to you, Rowan…" he promised. He brushed her silvery blonde tresses back to expose her neck. He leaned in savoring her jasmine scent that had a hint of curry. An Indian evening, he imagined her in a black and red sari, bedecked with jewels. My never-bride.
Crack. Gabriel's forearm fractured and that moment of hesitation from him allowed the female to slide back across the bed. She reached over her head and grabbed the IV stand, brandishing expertly like a pole arm.
"Don't—you—dare," every word was forced out from her teeth, her chest rose and fell staggered. Her hold loosened on the metal stick and it bounced on the mattress. Rowan fell forward for the room had blurred and split into alternating dual images. The vampire easily caught her and laid her form back down.
"Please…let me do this for you," he pleaded.
"I let you…the circle will never end," she replied, her voice faint.
"I will find a way to break—," he argued, but was silence by her shaking her head.
"I have a confession, too," she mused. "Vampirism was not intentional. It was just a way of keeping you alive long enough to—"
"Rowan…you are turning incoherent…" he crooned.
"I was not brave enough back then," she continued, ignoring him. "Now—I am." She sighed contently and then her heart line went flat. The monitor echoed his distress.
Gabriel gazed calmly down at her deceased darling and made quick contingency plans. He ran across the room using his vampire speed and began stacking the furniture against the door so no one could enter. Then, he removed his shirt, pulled aside the curtains and raised the windows.
The bright, intense Floridian cascaded and illuminated his cells. Sparkle. Sparkly. Minutes rolled by, the room filled the golden glitter, resembling faerie dust suspended in the air like a snow globe. Gabriel closed his azure eyes and felt a strange emotion of resolve in his heart. I am done, he thought. Our time has passed…the sun was claiming him…the new generations…The UV rays shone and was absorbed by his skin. The energy traveled to every part of his system and purified his body cells. It is less painful if you just let go. Gabriel predicted that he would be mildly transparent and the fact that he could not feel his feet was a given. Sparkle. Sparkle. It was a beautiful way to cease existence. The heat of the sun fluctuated, but the process was still strong.
There was loud pounding on the door. The cries of "Open the door!" seem distant in the depths of his mind. Something was wrong with this—it was taking too long. He should be scattered into the wind by now.
Alright then. Science for vampires 101. A vampire and direct sunshine is like a laser and a mirror. The laser reflects off of the mirror and—okay, not a good comparison! The point is how can the mirror stand being used as a reflector before it starts to melt by the heat? Back to the story.
"Fuck!"he exclaimed, shutting the curtain. He opened his eyes and walked towards the bed. The golden particles in the atmosphere were slowly being absorbed back into his body. I can feel my toes, he thought.
"Why? Why will you not just let me die?" he asked the corpse. Rowan gave no post-humous answer.
Bumpbump. Bump. Bump. Bump. The vampire felt a strange vibration from his chest. His senses dimmed as if a miasma came along and his body bent over with the sudden additional weight. My heart…it is beating.
Chapter Fourteen: Anniversary
A black Mercedes Benz pulled up the street and parked right across from iron gates. The doors opened and three people of varying heights got out. One was the driver who was over six feet, had mahogany hair with an odd streak of white and wore shades. He wore a black Armani suit and the chain from his pocket watch dangled against his outer thigh. Two was a little girl with raven hair halved into pigtails and stared at the iron gate with big, round sapphire eyes. She wore a white Elvin-styled gown with off the shoulder butterfly sleeves and periwinkle trimmings. Lastly was a boy who could easily have been the girl's fraternal twin. He had bronze-colored hair and blue-gray eyes that can glare a hole through any material. His expression reflected the older male's. Solemn. The little girl giggled and skipped merrily across the street. She waited for the others at the gate.
"Hurry up, slowpokes!" she giggled. Her eyes traveled upwards toward the arched sign that read "Manzanar Cemetery". The other males followd after, carrying a bouquet of tiger lillies. The tall man opened the gates and lead the way.
"Manzanar's a funny name for a graveyard," the girl chirped.
"It means "apple orchard" in Spanish", her twin said.
"Oh, so can we eat them?" the girl asked.
"That—would be ill-advised…to eat the fruits of the dead…"her twin paused. "Persephone".
"What is a purse-phony? Gasp! Fake accessories made in sweat shops?" the girl concluded.
"No," he answered, quickening his pace to match his elder. The trio passed dozens of tombstones. Many were unkempt and the inscriptions on them had started to deteriorate. In the far corner of the cemetery sat a lone apple tree on the tiniest knoll. The tress was full of white blossoms and in the winter would rain petals on the grave that lay at the foot of the trunk.
The tall man placed the flowers down in front of the grave and brushed the debris off of the headstone. The two children had gone off playing among the more grandiose tombs. He sighed and knelt down on one knee. His index fingers traced the engraved outline an angel holding a spear in one hand with words underneath:
"Here lies Rowan Triste.
The Black Lady, Beloved Mother, Adopted Sister, Wonderful Hospital Patient and Warrior.
She was the bravest of the All."
He sighed and removed his sunglasses. His eyes were the color of the ocean, blue and murky.
"They forgot to add, 'she left too soon,'" he commented. "Long time no see, lover." The man smiled and embraced the slab of stone. "I hope you are happy wherever you are."
A little breeze answered his words. An apple blossom disconnected with its branch and siblings to land gingerly on his head.
"Don't move," a velvet voice command from behind, "Gabriel." The brunette felt the barrel of a gun pressed against his skull.
The man hissed, "What do you want, Daraniel?"
"To finish my job," Darian answered.
"Were you not fired from your job?" Gabriel mused. Click.
'Shut up! This should be easy since you're human," the red-haired man stated.
"Am I? How do you know that I have not evolved into a demon?" the other male goaded.
"I'm positive," Darian answered.
"Please…you and I both know that Rowan still has a few tricks up her sleeve even when is dead," the other one said respectfully.
"Liar!" Darian's voice wavered.
"Watch," in one swift move, Gabriel grabbed a handful of dirt, spun around and flung it into Darian's eyes. The gun dropped from the red-haired man he tried to claw the dirt of his eyes. Gabriel gained possession of the fun and followed through with an elbow to nose which shoved the cartilage into the skull along with a series of gunshots at the critical organs. Bambambam! Darian fell backwards with a look of surprise and a fountain of blood sprouted forth.
Gabriel shrugged off his jacket and wiped the blood off of the tombstone then he draped it over for additional protection. He glanced over his shoulder and could have sworn the bastard's last words were "Cleareye". He stooped and looped his arms under the body's armpit and dragged away the corpse.
The two children froze when they heard the gunshots. The little girl uttered a cry and ran into the arms of safety of her brother. One figure was obviously winning. The other had fallen. Who was who on the knoll.
"Is it father?" the girl sobbed, fat tears ran down her chubby cheeks.
"No…he would not dare to leave us," the boy stated matter-of-factly, "not like this anyways."
The last few words made the cry even harder. There was an alarmed response from the boy and he pattered her back uncertainly.
The one blob is the distance merged with the second blob and left together. The children waited patiently for their father to return. Slowly a figure walked towards them. They held their breaths and watched the person come closer. The two children's heart throbbed frantically in their chest and ears. He came closer and closer and closer.
The boy caught the gleam of sapphire eyes and relaxed his protective stance. His sister still trembled with fear.
"Wha-what if he's dead?" the girl asked.
"We'll give him an apple from Mother," the boy answered.
"Father c-can't come back with Vitamin C!" she cried.
"Fruit of the dead," he reminded her.
"But those are pomegranates!" she squeaked.
A tired laughter startled them. A mahogany-haired man stood a few feet away with them with scratched, dirt-caked hands.
"Who died now?" he inquired innocently.
"Daddy", the girl exclaimed, rushing towards him with rosy cheeks. She buried her face into his vast shirt and carefully minded the debris.
"Come on, you two," Gabriel walked on towards the Iron Gate with his daughter clinging to his leg. The boy scuttled beside the father and kept staring at him with inquiring eyes.
"Father, what happened there?" he asked.
"I will speak of it when you understand vengeance," Gabriel promised.
They stepped beyond the looming door and crossed the concrete river of chaos. Gabriel brushed the dirt from his hands and waited patiently for his children to buckle in safely. His eyes took one last look at the cemetery. In the distance, under the shade of one of many apple trees, stood a white outline of a woman wearing his bloodied Armani coat and she was waving.
Gabriel sighed, shoved his sunglasses up his nose, got into the car and closed the door. He turned the key in the ignition and heard it purr to life. He adjusted his rearview mirror and stomped on the gas.
"I never told you why your mother loved tiger lilies so much, did I?" he said to fill in the silence, his voice slightly strained.
"No…" the twins answered slowly. "In the language of flowers, they mean "Dare to Love," he said.
"Oh", the girl said flatly, obviously still depressed.
"Oh," the boy exclaimed, the light bulb turning on his head.
The Mercedes Benz drove on into what ever time of day it was: dusk, noon, sunset or twilight.
In Memory of Thomas White
I never got to talk to him again and I forgot his middle initial.
Be happy in Oklahoma, Tomcat. 3