A Vampyre's Lament (Part 2)

“Why, hello kitty!”
I said in surprise.

A small grey cat was lying on my bed,
Lounging.

“Where did you come from?”
I asked the sleepy kitten,
Lifting her into my arms.

She stretched and yawned,
Looking up at me in astonishment.

“Hello, there…”
I whispered,
Nuzzling against her face.

She pressed her paws firmly against my chest,
Pushing away,
Jumping to the floor.

I crouched beside her,
Petting her silk fur.
“Do you have a name?”
I asked,
Searching for a collar.

“Nope, no name…”

I laid next to her,
Resting my hand on her paw.
“What should we name you?”

Her eye half opened to look at me,
                             In golden yellow.

“Sassy?”

         She blinked.

“Fuzzy?”
         Eyes closed.

“What about Elizabeth?”
I continued,
Propping myself up.

         Her left ear flicked.

“No Elizabeth?...okay…Maggie?”

         She stood up and stretched.

::Even she’s bored with me…::

“Moonlight?”

         She tiptoed over to one of the storage victims,
         Placing a paw on his face.

I watched in curiosity.

         She hunched down,
         Wiggling her butt,
         Stabilizing her tail.

I sat up in anticipation.

         She pounced at his head,
         Flipping over with his limp body,
         Rolling off,
         Scampering to her feet.

“Zombie?”
I cooed playfully.

         She bounded over,
         Rubbing up against my outstretched body,
         Purring contentedly.

“Zombie it is…”
I smiled.

::Such a beautiful cat must belong to someone,
someone who misses her terribly…”
I sighed in disappointment,
Leaving the balcony doors open so Zombie could leave for home.
Sliding off that night’s clothes,
I stepped into the shower again.
Sadly,
This was becoming a pastime for me.

Steaming hot,
Letting this port-drawn rain fall down my skin.
I closed my eyes,
Allowed myself to dream-
Remember.

In the old mansion in London we had a huge bathtub…
As I stood there daydreaming I could faintly hear his laughter.
He covered my head in bubbles,
Our voices became a sweet spring song.
Dancing through the corridors,
Weaving in and out between the dark oak wardrobe and four poster bed…

        I smiled,
In spite of myself,
As I remembered his rendition of Santa Clause.

“Ho ho ho!”
He bellowed.

I giggled,
Holding my sides,
Splashing away his bubble beard.

Christoph was constantly playful…
That is one of the things I loved about him.

“Knock knock?”

I snapped out of my daydream,
“Tyler?”

“Yeah…
                  sorry to interrupt.”

“Nah,
    just wait outside…
I’ll be out in a second.”


Tyler paused,
“Seconds up…”

I rolled my eyes,
Tossing the shampoo bottle in his direction,
“Get out!”

He laughed,
“Okay…
          okay, geez!”

I stood there a moment more,
::when had the water gone cold?::

I turned it off and stepped out,
Wrapping a fresh towel around me,
Walking into the room in search of some fresh clothes.

Tyler covered his eyes.

“I have a towel on, silly!”
I laughed.

“I know…
      still…”

“Okay, okay…
I’ll hurry.”

I grabbed another pair of jeans and t-shirt,
Back to the bathroom to dress.

“Where’d you get the cat?”

I froze for a second,
         Balancing with one leg on the floor,
                   One leg half in my pants,
“She’s still here?”

“Uh…yeah?
         Is she not supposed to be?”

Rushing to button my jeans,
I threw on my shirt.

“…Meg?”
“Um…
         no,
wait…yeah…
                   well,
                     uh…”
I stammered,
Emerging from the bathroom.

I picked her up,
Setting her on the corner of the balcony,
“Go…”
I waved her with my hands.
         
         She looked at me lazily and walked back into the room.

“Oooookay…”
I said,
Closing the doors and joining Tyler and my-
         Obviously-
New pet.

“So?”

“Hmm?”

                   “Where’d you get the cat?”

“Oh!
         I dunno…
                   She just showed up,
         Wasn’t expecting her to stay…”

                   “Got a name for her?”

“Zombie…”
I mused.

                   He glanced around the room at the half-living corpses,
                             Glanced at me,
                   “Irony…”
                   he said,
                   voice smiling.




“Yeah? Well…
         she liked the name.
                   …so…there.”
I said,
Picking her up defensively,
Cradling her in my arms.

Tyler laughed.

“What brings you back, Ty?”

                   “Will you tell me how I came to be?”
                   he asked,
                   suddenly somber.

“What?”

                   “All I remember was you…
                             and thinking I was dead…
                                       and falling…a painful landing…
                                                 …blackness.”
                   His eyes looked distant as he related this to me,
                   “When I came to, it was you and the boss-“

“-Christoph”
I corrected.

                   “Christoph…”
                   He continued,
                   “you and Christoph…
                             and I was…what I am…
                                       how?”

I smiled,
“I told you.
Christoph saved your life…
         He liked you a lot so he decided to help you.”

                   “That is so vague!”
                   Tyler exclaimed,
                   Throwing his hands up in defeat,
                   “I know that much…
                             detail, meg! DETAIL!
                                       Why?
                                       How?
                   …Please?”
I winced,
He had a right to know…

But,
since we had become such good friends afterwards I felt a sort of guilt,
Guilt for the actual way it had happened,
His inability to choose…

I felt horrible that he had needed ‘saving’ in the first place,
That the only savior I had been able to provide him had been Christoph.
The only cure- this blackness.
Darkness that had altered his entire life…

“Tyler…”
I said,
Softly,
“Not tonight…
         okay?”

                   “You always say that…”
                   he whispered,
                   thwarted.

“I promise…
someday I’ll tell you the whole story.”

                   “Soon?”

“Perhaps…”

                   Tyler heaved.

I faked a yawn,
Stretching out on the bed.

                   “Tired?”

“Yes…”

                   “Alright,”
                   he said,
                   standing up,
                   tousling my hair,
                   “ ‘night sleepyhead…”


“ ‘Night.”
I sighed,
Sleepily.

                   He left quietly.

Suddenly,
I was tired.

I rolled over and hugged my makeshift pillow,
Longing for Christoph.

         I could feel myself slipping down,
                   Further
                             And
                                       Further…
                                                 Into sleep…

I begged for him to return to me in my dreams,
again tonight

But I couldn’t get Tyler’s creation out of my head.

~o~

It was my first night on the hunt alone.
Christoph had sent me off with a kiss,
And high hopes.

The wet streets were lit in blotches,
by lamps that marched down Main Street.
All the night life was out.

The hookers stood at their corners in cheap fishnet,
Heels.
Men, with their wives-
(Or nightly companions)
Strolled arm in arm,
Dressed for black-tie occasion.

The drunks fought loudly from the corner tavern,
Occasionally one was thrown head-first out the saloon-style doors,
Staggering to his feet,
Launching back into the brawl.


I studied the scene,
Strolling casually.

Small children scuttled about,
Playing pirates in their city of alleys.
I smiled kindly as one very small girl ran straight into me,
in attempt to catch up with the boys-
resolute to leave her out of their game.

She looked up at me,
Apologetic-
Expecting a crucifixion for her sins.

I crouched down to look at her,
Meeting her eyes,
“You go get those boys…”
I told her,
Winking.

She smiled back,
With recovered confidence,
Pursuing after the boys.

As I stood he caught my eye,
Disappearing into an alley-
I knew this was the one.

Casually I turned down the alley after him,
Watching him duck into a small soothsayer’s shoppe.

I passed the door,
Continuing a little ways before crouching in the shadow of a dumpster.

I watched him and the medium exchange words,
With a flourish of her brilliantly colored garments,
they both took a seat at a small table-
boasting a huge crystal held by an elaborate stand.

They gazed into it for a long while,
His eyes growing poignant,
Brow wrinkling in betrayal.

I’m not sure to this day what he saw,
but when he paid the women he looked dreadful.


As he shut her door behind him he fell against the wall,
Grasping at his chest as if his heart threatened to hemorrhage.

        Right there…
Still incased inside his torso…

I stepped slowly from the shadow,
Head down,
Pacing toward him.

“Have you come to kill me, too?”

I stopped in my tracks-
Did I look that deadly?

“Women…”
he sneered,
“Cold…
brutal-
                                  Devil’s advocates!
Grim Reaper femme fatals!”

I continued towards him.

                   Rip from my chest this heart you so seek!
                   Do it physically-
                             Because emotionally I can take no more!”

I laid my hand on his shoulder,
He didn’t fight me off…
Tilted his head gently back,
Revealing a long slender neck,
lined with arteries and tendons.
He did not defy my requests…

He moved like a limp doll,
Rejecting nothing.
My lips grazed his neck as I breathed in his scent,
Savoring my first kill.

“What is your name?”

“Tyler…”
he muttered.

“Goodbye, Tyler.”
I sunk my teeth deep within his flesh,
took my first drink.
The first drink not handed to me from a silver spoon…
The first I had to work for…

“Thank you…”
He managed to choke out,
Arms going limp,
Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he slowly sunk to the ground.

I sneered,
Arrogant with my first kill-
Wiping his blood from my lips,
Something made me uneasy…someone was watching.

I lifted him onto my shoulders,
Back to Christoph with my trophy.

When I returned he had the fireplace hot,
Wine chilled…
Music playing.

“Planning for a hot date?”
I chortled,
Dropping the boys dead weight on the floor,
Collapsing onto the fainting couch to stretch out my legs.

He came to me,
Gripping my shoulders,
Massaging with care,
“How did it go?”

“Okay…”
I replied,
“You can have the body for whatever your dark mind desires…”

He snorted in jest
“ ‘whatever’?”
he asked,
amused.

“Had a nice walk,
Met a little girl…”

“Ah?”

“When I saw him I knew he was the one…
followed him to the soothsayer,
it was only a matter of waiting.
But,
When he came out…he was suffering.
I took him…
I-“
My voice caught,
Choking.

“What?”
He prodded.

My face fell in remembrance.

“Why the strange look, love?”

“H-he said…
‘Thank you’…”

Christoph looked puzzled,
“Thank you?”

I nodded.

He moved to crouch by the boys body,
Tossed to the floor like discard.

“Thank you?”
he grumbled,
more to himself, then me.

I stood behind him,
Christoph rolled him to his back,
Sweeping the mussed hair to the side,
Sniffing the open wound on his neck.

“You didn’t drink him fully?”
He questioned.

“Something made me nervous…
I wanted to come home.”

He placed his ear to the boy’s chest,
“Hmm…
it still lives…”
“His heart?”

“Yes. A strong one…”
he confirmed.

I wondered what was going to happen next,
Christoph flicked open a swiss army knife from his pocket,
Quickly slicing his wrist.

“CHRISTOPH!”
I shouted.

He silenced me with one finger,
Allowing the crimson blood to run into the boy’s mouth.

“What are you doing?”
I breathed,
Trying not to smell his blood…
Trying to stay clear headed.

“Giving him a second chance.”

“As a vampyre?
A MONSTER?!”
I argued.

“A lycan…”

~o~

I sat up straight in bed,
“Oh my god…”

I pulled my knees to my chest,
back resting against the wall,
Let loose a shudder that ran up and down my spine.

I thought about it some more…
To clear things up…
(as much as possible).
To purge it from my head.





So much made so little sense:

Marcus was my creator.
         Christoph, Marcus’ lycan…
         Charged with his protection.
Royalty versus servitude.

I was created in Marcus’ image,
Full-blood-
Or lack thereof…
Vampyre.

When Marcus fled Christoph took to caring for me,
We fell in love.

Sometimes I wonder what fate led him to forsaking Marcus…
Refusing to leave- breaking his vow to protect-
Coming to my aid, instead.

I would have left me for dead…

He had to teach me everything.
Deal with my transformation, and the rage that accompanied it.
Most of it was a blur to me now…

I know in one of my fits of outrage I bit him,
Drained him to weakness…

         Just before he passed he whispered it…
                   My second anathema…
Emotional…

For the first time…

“Meg…”
his voice had pled,
“I love you…”

In that instant my red-hued bloodrage lifted,
         Head cleared enough to listen to reason.
Just enough to realize what I was doing…what I had done.

I paid for my anger in the next three weeks...
he refused to drink of my blood,
nursing him back to health.

I almost destroyed my entire happiness in that one night…

~o~

The candle burned low in the cold chamber,
Whispers ricochet off the stagnant concrete walls.
They spoke in sacred tones,
                             Not wanting to be overheard.

                                       “Any clue where he is?”
                             
                             “Dead, sir…”

                                       “I do not believe that, Marcus…”

                             “But…
                               he is.”

                                       “I DON’T BUY IT!”
                                       Victor snapped.
                                       “Have you found the girl?”

                             “No.”
                             Marcus lied.
                             Something kept him protecting her.
                             Maybe it was his nature as her creator?
                             He was,
                                       Basically,
                             Her father.

                                       “How long, Marcus?
YOU ARE WORTHLESS!”

                             “Sir, I-“

                                       “Did you not create her?!?
                                       Do you not have a connection?!”

                             “Yes,
                                       but it isn’t that simple…”

                                 “How hard can it be to find ONE measly girl?”

                             “She’s virtually disappeared…
                             I am trying.”

                                       “I think you are not telling me everything…”
                                       Vincent sneered,
                                       Eyeing Marcus’ face.

                             “I am…”
                             Marcus faltered,
                             “I’m sorry…I will keep trying”

                                       “Do you have feelings for her?
                                                 …sympathy for that little wretch?”

                             “No, Vincent…I-“

                                       “Feeling ‘fatherly’ inclinations, perhaps?”

                             “No! I just-“

                                       “OH! Shut up!
                                                 She threatens to contaminate our line!
                             Do you not care for vampyres anymore, Marcus?
                                       HAS SHE POISENED YOUR MIND, TOO?!”

                             “No, honest! I just can’t find her.”

                                       “First Christoph…now you…”
                                       he sighed,
                                       more to himself than Marcus,
                             “betrayal by a servant…that’s humiliation enough…
                                       but my own brother?
                                                 That tops all else…”

                             “Vincent! I am trying!
                       When we find her we will torment the truth from her lips!
                             She will tell us everything!”
                             Marcus boiled with anger.

                                       “THEN FIND HER!”
                                       Vincent bellowed,
                                       Smashing his fist into the wall.

                             “As you wish…”
                             Marcus spoke softly,
                       Stepping from the cellar entrance into the brisk night air.



It was getting harder to keep him off the trail…
Vincent’s patience was waning.

~o~

Meanwhile,
Tyler had made his way back to the crypt.

From outside the dead walls he could hear a soft sobbing-
                             Lamenting.

Slowly,
He moved the small marking-stone,
Flicking the lock open.

He looked around,
before quickly swiveling the door to the other side.

The area was cramped and dark,
A musty wind blew up the shaft of the narrow staircase,
                   Spiders spun intricate webs on the ledge above the decent.

There,
                             Six feet under…
                             Side-by-side with his rotting flesh neighbors…

Sat Christoph,
Hands over his face.

                   “Christoph?”
                   Tyler said, calmly,
                   Clearing his throat.

                             “OH!”
                             Christoph started,
                             Wiping his eyes and building composure,
                             “Welcome back, friend.”

                   “Hey…
                             everything alright?”

                             “No…
                                       I miss her…”
                             He admitted,
                             Defeatedly,
                   “Knowing she suffers as well only makes it hurt more…”

                   “Would you rather her move on?”
                   Tyler asked,
Rhetorically.

                             “Almost…
                                       just to hear of her smile again…
                             it would almost be worth it”

                   “She loves only you, Christoph…”

                             “And I, only her…”
                             He replied,
                             “how much longer must I hide?”

                   “Until we can find Vincent and take the coven to kill him…
                             until then you are not safe.”

                             “How long?”

                   “I don’t know…
                             soon, I hope.”

                             “You hope? …you?!”
                             Christoph mocked.

                   “I hate to see you like this, sir…
                             …see her…”

         “You have the most sympathy of any lycan I have met, Ty…”

                   “I wasn’t always a savage, Christoph…”

                             “Savage?
                                       …wow…thanks…”

                   “Have you seen yourself eat?”
                   Tyler joked,
                   Happy to be able to lighten the mood.

                             “Yeah…
                                       …well…
                                                 okay.”

                   “My point, exactly…”
                   Tyler chuckled.

                             “Where is Marcus?”

                   “I dunno…haven’t seen him since this morning.”

                             “Does he have any lead on Vincent?”

                   “He has met with him a few times…
                             never at his dwelling.
                   Marcus says he picks the most obscure meeting places…”

                             “Truly, brothers are alike…”

                   “Obscure?”

                             “Yes…”

                   “Anyways,
                     Marcus says that Vincent is always there when he arrives,
                             And never leaves until Marcus has left.”

                             “He is quite intelligent, I’ll give him that.”

                   “Marcus is working up the courage to follow him home…
                             but that is harder then it seems.”

                             “Vampyres are extremely intuitive,
                                       on top of their heightened senses….
                             I can imagine the difficulty.”

                                       Marcus stepped from the bottom stair,
                                       “Why, thank you…”
                                       he said boastfully,
                                       polishing his nails on the breast of his jacket.

                   “Speak of the devil…”
                   Tyler jeered.

                                       “Now, now…
                                                 I’m not that infamous…”

All three of them laughed.

                                       “Mind if I sleep her tonight?
      Some vacationers have settled into the port-front home I was using.”

         
“You should settle in the abandoned apartments…
                                       no vacationers there,
                             although, I hear the stairs are out…”
                             Christoph suggested.

                   “No,
                             Meg is there…”
                   Tyler said quietly.

                                       “Vincent is searching for her feverishly…
                                                 I can’t risk leading him to her…”
                                       Marcus agreed.

                             “We have room for you to stay,
                             if you don’t mind sleeping in the dirt.”
                             Christoph said.

                                       “If it’s good enough for the dead,
it’s good enough for the undead”
                                       Marcus joked.

                   Tyler stretched and yawned,
                   “I think I’m ready for bed now.”

                                       “I have something I have to go do, first…”
                                       Marcus announced.

                             “I will be asleep when you get back…
That’s all there is to do in this hole…
Don’t make the mistake of disturbing me.”
Christoph warned.

                             “Understood…”
                             Marcus nodded.
         
         Tyler met Christoph’s eye,
Christoph was not going to sleep…

~o~

                             “Knock knock?”
                             Marcus whispered into the dark room.




Meg stretched and groaned,
“Hello?
Who’s there?”
She rubbed her eyes, willing them to open.

                             “It’s Marcus,
                             …please…
                             may I come in?”

Meg sighed,
“What is your obsession with me lately?
I thought we went over this…I don’t love you.”

                             “No, Meg…
                             that isn’t it.”

“Then what?”
Meg asked,
A bit irritated,
“you woke me from a dream…”

                             Marcus sat at the edge of her bed.

Meg sat up in reservation.

                             “I came to say sorry…”

“…for?”

                             “Taunting you,
                             …it wasn’t fair”

“Is that all?”
Meg’s voice rose in question,
“What’s the catch?”

                             “Nothing…
                                       …I just…
                             I don’t know.”

“What?”
Meg leaned closer in curiosity.

                             “I just wanted to say sorry…
                                       I’ve been a horrible creator…
                           And I’m sorry for forcing myself onto you that night…”

“Sympathy?
                                                 From you, Marcus?”
Meg mocked cruelly,
  “Did someone say you only have twenty-four hours to live,
or something?”

                             “If that were the case I would have come,
not to apologize,
                             but to take you again-
                                       one last time before I died…”
                             Marcus joked.

Meg couldn’t help but smile a little bit,
      As freakishly close to the truth as this may be…
“So what changed?”

                             “Lots of things,
                                       recently…”
                             Marcus gazed off,
                             “I just came to say sorry…

                                       Sorry…and,
                             Soon it will be made up to you…
                                                 …very soon.”

“Will you quit speaking in riddles, Marcus?
I’m half asleep…”

                             “Probably for the better…”
                             Marcus sighed.
                             “Goodbye, for now, Meg.”

Meg laid back down,
    Settling into the dent her body left in the jumbled covers,
“…goodbye…”

moments later…





…alone…





Seconds more…







                                                              Not alone…

“Marcus…”
Meg whined,
Not even opening her eyes,
“I forgive you, okay?
Geez! Just let me sleep!”

                                       “Aww…thank you, doll.”
                                       A thick accent responded.
A hand clasped around her mouth.

She opened her eyes in confusion…
                                       A cold gaze meeting hers.
…eyes not belonging to Marcus…

                                       “Wrong brother, rat…”
                                       Vincent hissed.
                                       Fangs dripping in hunger.

I tried to scream but my throat constricted defiantly.

::Marcus set me up!
…he led Vincent to me…::
I thought frantically.

Over my face Vincent placed a cloth,
Pressing violently…

That smell…so familiar…

I struggled but my arms and legs felt like lead.

                   What was that smell?
                             It was damp…
                                       Burning against my face…
                                                 My head spun,
                                                 His evil grin grew bigger-
                                                           Twisted.

                                                                     ::Chloroform::
my brain connected.

         Oh god, no…
Losing consciousness.

                    …falling
dark.


~o~
                                                 
I knew that smell from the night I changed.

I was at a party,
         A rave.
                             I can’t believe Steph talked me into going…

The music was loud,
Room-
Dark,
Flashing with lights.

Not even a minute after I walked in a girl,
Entirely drunk-
Ran into me bare breasted and howling.
“sssorry”
she slurred,
pushing off me and stumbling back into the crowd.

Then again she was probably wasted off something more than beer…

The whole room was packed,
People moving together like a sea of bodies in a violent storm.

In one corner a group huddled around their white trash dealer,
Snorting lines,
Surrounded by girls -passed out- draping across the couch,
and each other...

Part 3 COMING SOON