"Lily" 1-2

Chapter 1

The sky was inky black, starless and friendless like the deepest recesses of the stolen soul I had long since surrendered in seeking. Black had become my favourite colour since my transformation, causing me to dress constantly in long leather jackets, tight jeans and fancy shirts. I was also into vibrant colours, particularly deep blood reds. I also liked serpents, like dragons curling round sharp, silver blades slicing into soft, innocent flesh, spilling the warm essence of life onto a cruel, unforgiving pavement where so much death occurred, and no soul was safe. I had a tattoo of a dragon on my back, coiling serpent-like around an ancient sword.

I was often taunted by thugs who would see me walking in the night, thinking me a gothic man with longish, brown hair, leather clad and pale. Little did they know my secret cravings, to spill their blood onto my lips, to taste their lives flowing into my demonic body, sustaining my eternity and hollowing my all ready soulless world.

I was made a vampire by the High Lord Magnus, an infamously rich bachelor who fed quietly, and rarely turned anyone. But he had been around longer that any I knew, and his grand home was such to any vampires who made themselves known. He was affectionately referred to as the father of us, his demonic children he fought to protect at all costs.

He only took me because I was at death’s door. An orphaned child, I lived on the streets, rough and uncultured. The times were unspeakable, long before any alive now would remember. I was clever and quick, but not invincible, and one day my tricks failed me, and I was caught by a cruel man, who flogged me senseless. Severely weakened, I never recovered fully, and soon disease began to rot my body before my eyes. I was so weakened I could not eat, and the Lord rescued me, took me in, and made me one of his own.

I grew sophisticated under his care, my charms capable of turning any woman’s head. He showed me a life far higher than any I had dreamed before. But my nature was still untameable, and I preferred my solitude far more than any company.

My reputation grew amongst the other’s of my newfound kind. Some were violent, vicious and brutal. Other’s quiet and shy, or too proud or vain to be caught feeding. Some were ashamed by their transformation, but I embraced it. I had respect for non but Magnus, he was like a father to me more than I had ever known.

But I did not love him. Love was unknown to me. I would often seduce females, enjoy such romantic pleasures as they bestowed upon me, even endured relations for lengthy periods. But it was never love, from my part at least, and they soon grew bored, or old, or found another, or some such reason for their loss of interest. I seldom left a girl who wished to stay by me, for I was difficult to irritate, and could pretend as well as any courtesan or common street whore. But in the end they all knew my heart was my own, and were forced to accept that fact.

Of course, none of the mortal women knew what I was, and as a rule I never dated a vampiress. Not through distaste or dislike, but simply because I could endure mortals, who lived such short periods, and fake my own death if I pleased till I was forgotten. But vampires do not forget. Some of the others nicknamed me Casanova, after some legendary Italian pretender to aristocracy, bedding more women that hot dinners, or in my case, live ones. I seldom fed, and never turned. Not because I was ashamed, for as I said, I was quietly acceptant of myself. But I would not tie myself to any for more than a century, and a charge in my care would make my life less controlled.

One of the most fun things about a vampire’s life is the control. Having all the time in the world, it is easy to acquire a vast collection of material possessions. I know of many vampires who have a vast wealth, not just Magnus. You could be whatever you desire. I mean, the legends about vampires are greatly exaggerated. We are not discernable by appearance, no demonic disfigures like in the Buffy shows. For some time I watched these on my battered old television, exercising my natural masculine tendencies while watching her strike around after creatures inhuman and unfeeling as shadows in the dark. But if I was to tell the truth, the closest to truth was Angel on that show. He was a vampire with a soul, and despite the legends, we do have souls. And feelings. In fact, we can often be more sensitive than natural humans.

Dracula was a complete invention, yet is another of my favourite interpretations. We do not turn into bats, or fade under sunlight. Stakes really do harm us, that part was true. Crucifixes don’t, because we are not really anti-religious. I once met a Catholic priest who gave confessions for vampires, which I often attend. His name is father Rachis, and he was practicing for many years before he had to sadly fake his own death. He was deeply distressed, until I helped him begin his own chapel. He now has a quiet part of Magnus’s vast mansion all to himself, conducting sermons. Every so often, he preaches to humans, registers in nearby churches, helps out in charity shops, that sort of thing. He always misses his old post at the great Cathedral he once worked in, but he couldn’t carry on much longer before someone grew suspicious.

You see, we do not age as humans do. We do not change in any way. So we can only spend a limited time in one place, or one identity, before we must adapt. Sometimes we move to another area, where we are not recognised. Other times we simply go underground, or hide out at Magnus’s place, where mortals seldom go.

See, we are not the monsters portrayed (and slain) in the old television shows, by fashionable blonde teenagers and their fanatic treacherous hubbies. Some of us are monsters, true. But many chose to lead normal lives, among normal people. We do not kill our victims when we feed. On the contrary, we are quite gentle. Father Rachis won’t even bite a mortal; he has been chaste all his life, and sees the act as far too sexually oriented. He chooses to drink cold, as seldom as he can. By cold, I mean he allows one of us to bring him bags of it, so long as we do not reveal their locations. I did not tell him that most of those bags were from my own veins, for I was too respectful to feed a priest the blood of a mortal. I never understood the church, and so I duly respect it and anyone who participates.

The reasons for this were simple. When I first became a vampire, I was reckless. I was more brutal than I needed to be, not caring who I hurt. But one day, just like years before when I had been a foolish young lad, my tricks failed me. A boyfriend of one of the women I was flirting with approached me with several of his “friends”. At first I was confident, as I knew I was stronger. But I did not realise he was a vampire like me, and I scarcely escaped with my life. I stumbled into Rachis’ Chapel, severely hurt, expecting to be turned away. But he nursed my wounds, and my soul, enlightening me to the ways of his teachings. Now I wear a Celtic crucifix about my neck, representing not faith, but respect.

After the incident, I strove to better myself. I had been gifted with the body of a healthy young man, and I began to train myself, until I was stronger. But I was still weary of the vampire who had attacked me that night. I approached Magnus about him.

“Ah, that was one of Sereon’s charges. Me and Sereon go way back, one of the first I turned, when I was still as young as you. The one you met was Bax. He is dangerous, young Blaze; I warn you to be cautious. His so-called girlfriend was Adrienne, a feisty girl. She is one of mine, and with much more sense than to go falling for such brutality as Bax. He probably fancied her and wanted her for himself.”

“How do you know it was Adrienne I was with?”

Magnus started to laugh. “Well, Blaze, you shouldn’t need to ask that. There isn’t a thing I don’t know about the happenings in the underworld. Adrienne came to me herself with the story! And how is old Rachis doing? He is very fond of Adrienne. She was the one who turned him when he was almost killed. Some kids set fire to his Chapel, and he thought she was an angel come to save his life. He was very nearly killed – the roof collapsed on him, and she had to carry him out. He wouldn’t see her harmed.”

After that, Adrienne and me became sort of friends. She was attractive, but a loner like me, and that meant we suited well. She enjoyed a fashionable, material life, with flash parties and fast cars, shopping trips and young boyfriends. She had long blonde hair, curled in fashionable ringlets, and sparkling brown eyes. I accompanied her to a few of her parties, and she liked taking quiet walks with me sometimes. She was surprised by my humble living space, but I was never one for a big fancy lifestyle.

I always had a room at Magnus’s place, as did all his very few charges, but I preferred my own space. I lived in a little basement flat underneath a busy little corner shop, where I sometimes helped out the owner, Mrs Gregson. Her husband had died, and all their children gone, leaving her, old and alone, to fend for the little shop her husband had bought years before.

I marvelled at her, frail and alone, still clinging to her man’s dreams out of love. Sometimes, with my advanced senses, I hear her crying pitifully in her flat upstairs, with no other sound but the raindrops on the roof, and the odd passing car on the nearby high street to break the deathly silence, like a dark grave her children had left her to rot away in. it touched my heart with a deep sadness to hear her, and to know I had never had anyone care for me as much as she loved him. And I knew that if anyone ever did, I wouldn’t stay to watch them pine away as she was doing for him. I wouldn’t make any girl suffer as she did, crying alone with no body to comfort her. I wouldn’t let anyone get that close. Not to me.

I prefer to be alone.


Chapter 2

“Ah, Blaze, how are we this evening? I didn’t think you were coming.”

“You know I’m not really a ‘party’ person. But I thought it was only polite to make an appearance.”

“Good! You aren’t on your own, Adrienne’s already here. So are Harley and Phoenix. I think Father Rachis is coming too. And Lady Dawn.” At this last name, Magnus smiled. Dawn was his pride and joy. If Magnus was the father, she was most certainly the mother. His first ever charge, even before Sereon. Her beauty was unsurpassable to all who knew of her; the substance legends were built upon. She had sunshine in her hair, stars in her eyes, and rainbows in her heart. Many said she was like oil, bright and shiny, very colourful, but also slick and hard to grasp. She was another reason I refused to love. Poor Magnus had spent eternity chasing her, but she was eternally elusive. Wise and warm, but still cheeky and full of wits she was the one who had turned many of the vampires of the area, including Harley and Phoenix.

They were my “sort-of friends” too. Harley was one of Dawn’s, a young black man with a wild nature. He couldn’t stay still, always dashing into fights and adventures, telling his daring tales to any girl who would listen. It was hard to understand how he had managed to keep Phoenix, because he flirted constantly with women, and talked constantly.

She was much quieter. Her skin was ghostly pale, but she had such shocking blue eyes, burning with silent strength. She was Harley’s first, and she truly loved him. She was the closest I ever came to love, and the closest to a friend I’ve ever had. If Harley hadn’t turned her, I would have, and maybe it would be me her eyes would glance longingly at when she thought nobody else saw. She understood me better than anyone else.

I felt a slight lump in my throat as I saw her. I always felt tense in my first few minutes of her presence, knowing what I had lost. But the moment she started talking, all my uneasiness left me. I could listen to her talk an age, and she had become almost like a sister to me. But somewhere inside I dare not call it love.

Any love, no matter the form, was forbidden.

I shook my senses and tried to get a grip. Harley wasn’t there, and she was talking to Adrienne. I noticed a fresh new vampire male lusting horribly at them with leering eyes, growing slightly too confident of his allure, so I purposefully stood between him and them, blocking his view and returning him to his place.

Phoenix looked up and smiled warmly.

“Hi, Blaze. Adrienne was just telling me about the trouble down in the city. It’s Sereon’s lot, up to their own tricks again, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I heard Bax was stirring up again. Has he been onto you again, Adi? Because if he has…”

“IF he had, I wouldn’t be telling YOU about it! Every time you two meet, I have to come diving down there with a bleeding stake to separate you both! I don’t want you to end up wasted, Blaze! He ain’t gonna touch you. You’re too good for that.”

“I can handle myself, Adrienne. You should be more worried about Harley talking too much. No offence, Phe,” I added tactfully. “He doesn’t always know what he has said before he says it, and sometimes even after he struggles to see the significance. But you can bet that, if Bax and Sereon want trouble, there will be spies around the underworld, hunting for secrets and lies, rumours and gossip, anything to cause a disturbance. Sereon’s much more sophisticated in thought, enough to know his reputation would be soiled by digging in the dirt. He has Bax trained well as a professional fuck-up who does all the dirty work and makes all the mistakes. Not all Bax’s mischief is due to Sereon, which is why any that IS down to him goes easily unnoticed. But if he is being exceptionally noticeable, it might be worth our while to keep an eye on him. Have you told Magnus?”

“No, not yet. I wanted him to enjoy his party first.” She turned away, leaving Phoenix looking extremely worried.

“What’s on your mind, Phe?”

“What if Bax is trying to unnerve us, because Sereon has something even bigger planned? He seems to be trying too hard, if you ask me.”

I didn’t dismiss this idea, but I started to get extremely uneasy, and couldn’t work out why. It was like a mole digging down into the dirt, digging for secrets like a maggot in my flesh, then crawling back dutifully to its master with all the juicy titbits it could carry, caring not for the mess and destruction it left behind. I felt deeply betrayed, as if I had lost something dear to me, yet couldn’t remember what is was.

I erased the feelings from my mind and tried to enjoy the party. It was kind of crowded, so I wandered upstairs towards my bedroom in the eerily dark mansion. Mine was the attic room, much contrasting to the basement flat where I lived alone. Most vampires were unaware of my flat; only Adrienne, Harley and Phoenix had ever seen it. Magnus seldom left his home anymore, and nobody else paid any attention to me.

My higher room was cluttered with junk I had acquired. Fancy statues, dusty books, gifts and gold, and more wealth than I cared for.

I had few hobbies. I liked martial arts, and had mastered them quietly, one by one. I had all my uniforms and belts in my wardrobe, along with a vast collection of artistic shirts, reds, blues, golds and silvers, dragons, flames, phoenixes, griffins, curling serpents, skulls and crucifixes. I also had every gaming console going, and spent hours on them. I didn’t sleep often, not because vampires don’t sleep, but because I don’t sleep. I have too many nightmares. So instead I gamed them away, on shooting games, strategy, quests, sport, even some of the girly dance and song games, which I found were popular with the girls I invited back to my basement. Most of my stuff was at the mansion, though. I only ever had one gaming console and a few games at the basement. Apart from that it was my television, my double bed, a little kitchen area, a bathroom, and a heater. It was seldom on because I liked the cold, and the window was only small, but I liked the dark.

I could be called the stereotypical vampire. The leather, the cold, the dark, the fascination of black and red, even the passion and the women. I couldn’t be more vampiristic if I tried.

But that works for me.

I stared out of my attic window at the stars and wondered if there were as many vampires out there. Floating like specks of difference in a void of similarity, desperate to be the same, fearing all that was different.

I allowed my gaze to drop down to the balcony below my window, and was amazed to see a dark figure standing there. I couldn’t see them clearly, but I was instantly drawn, like the moth to the flame. I decided that perhaps I shouldn’t be alone for once, and headed back down the stairs onto the corridor and through the little doors to greet the stranger.

As soon as I peered round I realised the figure was distinctly female. She had a slight build, rather small and delicate in appearance, but the way she seemed to move it appeared she was controlled and well disciplined. She had rather short, ebony hair, blowing in the faint breeze and brushing her pale shoulders ever so slightly. She was wearing a black halter dress with a rough-cut bottom just above her knees. I stepped out onto the balcony, and she turned her head.

Her eyes made me stop dead in surprise. They were bright green, sparkling with life, and as wide and innocent as a child. There was something instantly unusual about her, and I couldn’t place it. A sense of purity, which shouldn’t be present if she was vampire. Her skin was smooth and pale, but not unhealthily so. Her lips were rosy and moist, despite the bitter cold, and the wind beginning to tear relentlessly over the open balcony.

Then the rain began, and she reached for a long cloak, silk-like and down below her knees with a hood. That was black, as well. She watched me standing there, hood almost obscuring her gentle face. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, and for the first time in a long time I felt a stir of passion. I realised I wanted her, to tear the cloak and dress from her skin and make her my own. I saw a wave of slight uncertainty, almost fear cross her face, and that was when I forced myself to turn away. When I looked back, she was gone. I almost believed she was only part of my imagination.

But those eyes… I couldn’t escape that. The innocence, the mystery. I decided I had to find her. I had to know what had intrigued me so much about her.

I had to know.