Transylvanian shake
By nova
- 323 reads
"Do you want to know how to fly? Do you want to feel power? Do you
want to indulge your dark side of temptation?" Heather's voice
provocatively heated his skin. She played with him, throwing him from
emotion to emotion. Thought to thought. Each new state of mind
contradicted the previous. He was wrapped by intrigue in her subtle
blue eyes and sometimes stared at her mouth, her red lips, pale like
her face, drew him closer. It was her words, the way she pronounced,
constructed and executed each absorbing sentence that kept his
concentration exclusively on her.
"I would like to do all those things," he whispered. He was a
confident man usually, however for tonight, in Heathers presence he was
fifteen years old. Josh was instantly attracted to her, in a house
party with industrial rock and everyone wearing black, her face
illuminated his path to her, and like the Lighthouse of Alexandria she
was both a guide and a wonder of the world. He was a bartender and
happy with most things, but that sense of 'there has to be more to life
than this' cursed his mind when he had time to think. Heather seemed to
be the answer to his question, there is always more to life, even when
you have been everywhere and done everything, there will always be an
endless supply of new people to meet.
"We've been sitting, talking for about three hours," said Heather. "Do
you want to go somewhere amazing?"
"Sounds like fun," he smiled like a child who was given money to spend
in the sweet shop. She could see through his rounded glasses and his
clothes that shouted 'I want to fit in here.' She could see into
people's eyes and find what she wanted; beneath the surface of his
placed hazel green eyes was turmoil, two people fighting in one mind,
this is what she wanted.
With a sman from his friends Josh and Heather left the party and
strode quickly though the neon streets of London. Heather was obviously
eager to reach her destination and show off her prize. She took him
though a maze of streets, he was off the tourists map and lost. Then
she ran. She turned into a shadow shimmering down a gloomy ally,
fluttering from one side to the other.
"Wait," Josh called. He was overloading on caution but still scampered
though puddles and darkness to be with her.
"Here we are," Heather winked and skipped up to the door. Her black
hair waved in the wind like a thousand blackbirds trying to escape
their prison.
"Where the hell are we?" he said with his hands on his knees inhaling
the tainted air.
She was silent and un-locked the door. They stepped into a small room
with a metal door before them, she un-locked this door and lead Josh
down a flight of old wooden steps. The staircase had no light source
and Josh suddenly felt like he was descending into hell with a crazy
girl, as Heather merrily sang as they carefully walked. Another door
presented itself, she un-locked this but did not open it.
"You have to close your eyes," she whispered.
"Okay,"
"Once you step inside you cant come out until the night is
done."
"O," he coughed, "Yeah I guess."
She wrapped her hands around his eyes and gently nudged him through
the door; they descended another staircase. Josh heard the dull
resonance of music and a few voices. Heather opened a door for him but
kept his eyes covered. The music burst out of the room and poured into
his ears like water. He was surprised but it was nice. Cellos, maybe a
violin played vigorously and beautifully. The usual chaotic noise of
people gathering was not present; instead it was quite, only a few
voices, a few stifled noises.
"You can open your eyes," she whispered while breathing down his
neck.
He opened his eyes and waited for Heather to remove her hands. Before
him was a small stage, lit candelabra's encircled three women
passionately playing the cello with one singing with a voice as
delicate but cutting as a violin. The candelabra's were the only source
of light for the whole room. Josh could see shapes and smudged outlines
of people. Some lay on the floor, and some stood, but none were alone,
each in a couple or more, and extremely close together, not moving
much, simply still.
Heather held his hand, she swayed in the music and gradually they
washed away into the crowd. Josh enjoyed the experience, this was a
tranquil place, a place to lose stress and emotions and drift away.
Then he began to see again, his eyes adapted to the darkness and now
illuminated the faceless shadows. He stared closer, closer still.
Blood. Blood dripping and flowing, dribbling and drenching. Knives
plunging and cutting, needles stabbing and stealing. A shiver ripped up
his spine. He gazed closer; they sucked, licked, and drank the blood.
He saw a set of fangs, soaked in crimson.
"Heather," he murmured, "Heather, what are you going to do." She was
caressing his neck, and rubbed her face against his cheek as she pulled
back.
"I'm not going to do anything to," she licked her lips.
"Are you," he paused in fear and disbelief. "Are you vampires?"
"No, we're free."
"What?"
"We like blood, we like the euphoric feeling of another's blood in our
body."
"What are you doing with me?"
"I like risk. You are my risk tonight, I could see another side of
you, the silent side you repress. You don't have to be silent
here."
"I'm not staying here any longer."
"You can't leave, you are my donor. You should feel honoured."
"Donor!"
"If we all looked the same we would get tired of each other. There is
only a small number of us, I get tired of drinking from the same
people."
"You want to drink my blood?"
"You want me to."
"You need therapy."
She smiled and showed her fangs; she swung her head back then thrust
forward and sank her teeth into his arm. He shrieked in terror and
pain. He thrashed his body lie a small prey caught in the deadly clutch
of a superior predator. He raised his hand to hit her but was
restrained by the others.
The haunting melody of the cellos did not stop but grew in intensity,
playing to his plight. The crowd gathered around him like ghosts,
smothering him. He was subdued, but his body began to tingle with a
perverted delight as she sucked blood from his torn arm. The pain and
anger he felt primarily was spent; all that remained was a feeling of
power pulsating through his veins.
Heather released him and un-sheathed her knife. She ran the blade over
her chest, up to her neck then slit her shoulder. Josh could not resist
he licked her wound then sucked. He nearly chocked as his mouth filled
with thick blood and began to trickle down his chin. He swallowed and
almost vomited. Heather moved away.
"Just a little at first," she teased.
Immediately the others pounced like hungry animals fighting for the
prize carcass. They licked the spilt blood and drank her wound. A girl,
a young girl approached Josh, she tasted the blood on his chin, passing
he tongue over his lips. They kissed, his mouth still covered in
Heathers blood, her mouth with the flavour of another. He thought of
Heather, he craved her.
He left the girl on her own and searched for new addiction. He
wondered aimlessly in the dark past ghouls and myths praying to find
her. Heather watched him from distance and now stalked him. Brushing
him from behind, breathing on his neck, each time he turned to
investigate she disappeared. Heather enjoyed these games; several proud
men had fallen to her great amusement. Josh was different; he
understood the power of one, and the power of one in a collective. He
felt what they did. The others tripped and foolishly fell over a fear
filled edge. Each one would sit in the corner hoping not to be noticed,
they wanted their mothers or their lovers, Josh wanted more.
"Hey, you look a little out of place," she whispered, he still could
not see her.
"Maybe a little."
"How do you feel?"
"Good, where the hell are you?"
"Next to you," he looked but she was hidden.
"What are you?"
"We are people, as normal and twisted as your neighbour."
"But the blood, the fangs."
"We like it, the fangs are artificial but add to the experience, they
are also good for traditional drinking."
"Are you like human vampires?"
"The fakers, they think that they are dark, so they act dark, we drink
we are dark."
"What the hell did you bring me here for?"
"I liked you, you seemed to have a certain quality I admire. I bring
people here, we need you there are not enough of us our number must
grow if we are to survive."
"You want me to join."
"Join," she laughed. "There is no club, no membership, this is our way
of life we want you to become part of it, come here I want to show you
something."
Heather suddenly sprang up in front of him. She took him by the hand
and into another room where she treated his wound. Then out into a
corridor, only a dull light bulb led the way. He counted six door on
either side as the walked the corridor. They entered on the seventh.
The room was small but a meter high candle had been placed in the
centre of the darkness.
"Sometimes we come here to heal," said Heather. "It's a place of rest,
peace. This is a society as complex as the one in the daylight. There
are hundreds of places like this, not only here but also in most other
countries, and there are thousands of us. However the blood runs dry.
Our ancestors used to kill but we have evolved, we had to we were on
the edge of extinction. We have survived but we can't let anyone into
our lives, you have to be of special breeding."
"Am I of that breeding," he couldn't believe what he said but he was
in the moment.
"Maybe, you have come farther than most. If you were just anyone you
would either have broken down or when we released you, you would expose
us, but we like to feel hunted, like it used to be. You understand your
silent self, listing to the thoughts and taking the actions you would
never do up there in the world."
"The world is a long way away, the night has only just started."
"Josh, it's almost morning. Time is meaningless down here, hours pass
like seconds, and days pass like minutes. You have to leave
soon."
Josh felt cheated with the world, it had taken the greatest night of
his life and reduced it to a moment. He stared at his watch, the
display jumped out of it's casing and covered his eyes with the message
of 5:49. Sunrise was near. Heather led him up the stairs and out into
the street. She seemed uncomfortable and reluctant to let him go. He
turned away and slowly walked.
"What have you learnt from what has been shown?" she called out as she
closed the door.
Josh stopped, he looked at his hands followed his veins up his arm to
the bandaged wound. He had learnt nothing, but felt fulfilled. He had
lived inside a dream for an entire night, dreams never last long, and
expectations are always shattered. Reality forces you to get up and
move, forces you to live, a dream is much kinder than that. It is a
form of life that should be explored before reality finds you and
breaks the dream. Josh turned and ran to the door; Heather opened it,
shielding herself from the rising sun.
"Hello young one," she said. "Want to travel the world and dream for
eternity."
She smiled and he watched her fangs retract into her gums; her search
was over as Josh took her hand and entered.
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