Sunday, September 11, 2016

Immortal 19

Sorry everybody.  My post will be a little bit more sporatic for the next little while.  Financial problems and medical problems and life

at any rate... here is the next installment

            Hours seemed to go by before I finally heard the sound I had been seeking. I could hear the gentle warbling of a stream and I headed further into the woods. My mouth was so dry that I forgot to worry about whether the water was clean or safe. As I knelt by the side of the little brook I splashed the cold and refreshing liquid on my face. I couldn’t imagine any danger in it. It was the sweetest, freshest water I had ever tasted in my entire life. I savored the coolness until I had drunken more than my fill. I opened the leather bag, hoping there was something in it that I could use to carry some water in. Maybe my vampire companions didn’t need water, but I did. Unfortunately the only thing in my bag that might be used to carry water was a jar filled with dirt, an empty jar that had contained the dirt from 1408 that brought us here and that I suspected I would be required to fill before we left, and my little bottle of Tloq. None of them could be used for water.
            My belly was full and bloated with all the water I had consumed, but just for good measure and with the thought that I might not get to drink again for quite some time, I took a few more hearty gulps. I wiped the access from my chin before I got to me feet and turned to head back to the cemetery. I would have to ask Quintas and Zhivvah about water after they woke up.
            I stayed to the trees, hiding and holding my breath when a farmer, leading a drove of sheep passed down the road. I know he didn’t suspect anybody was there watching him because he passed gas twice and lifted up his shirt to scratch his big hairy belly. I turned my head as he relieved himself, trying to not laugh. But other than that brief encounter I never saw another living soul for the entire day.
            For a while more I merely sat under the tree watching the crypt. How strange life could be. Just yesterday I was concerned about my homework. Today I was sitting in a cemetery waiting for my vampire friends to wake up.
            Of course, I spent quite a bit of time thinking about Emryl and Dr. Payton’s blog and monsters. So far I was beginning to think that the world of monsters was reserved for vampires. They’re the only kind of monster I had seen so far. But none of my undead friends had reputed the claims of zombies, werewolves or witches. I tried though, not to think about monsters period because every time I did the image of that wicked, gray face and glinting, wanting eyes flashed before me. And then as if in slow motion I saw the poker in my hand penetrate his chest with such force that I could scarcely conceive of the power I had within me. And then I saw myself swing the poker and strike him in the neck. I hadn’t hit him in the head or the shoulder or the arm, with precision and skill I had hit him exactly where I needed to hit him. With a second swing I had removed his head. How had I done that? That’s when the self-loathing began. I didn’t care how I had done it. I was disgusted that I could do it at all. Why hadn’t I recoiled? Why hadn’t I tried to run?
            I was anxious and angry and upset. I found my hand grasping the poker once again and I was on my feet. For whatever reason I was filled with energy and passion. All of the frustration I was feeling was focused and I stared icily at the trunk of the tree I had been sitting under. I didn’t hesitate and before I could stop myself I was swinging the poker and beating the hell out of the tree.
            When at last my anger had diminished and I ceased my attack I was shocked to find that my blind fury was not random. I had expected to find that I had left a chaotic mess of slashes in the trunk of the tree. Instead, there were only two gashes. Both of them were very precise and very, very deep. Somehow, I had hit the same place over and over and over. If I had kept up my mini tantrum I might have even been able to fell the tree. I let my fingers slide over the damage that I had caused, amazed at the accuracy I had managed. I dropped the poker at my feet and gawked, open mouthed for a little while. What did it all mean?
            As the heat of the afternoon really hit I was grateful for the cool shade my little tree offered.  My stomach started growling though and I was getting thirsty again.
            It was with great regret I had to admit to myself I had never had to provide myself with food. I went shopping, of course, and I’d been cooking simple meals like Macaroni and Cheese and Raman noodles for myself since I was ten. But I had no idea how to forage for food or to hunt. To be honest, I wasn’t even real certain what kind of nuts or berries were edible or what would poison and kill me.
            It also occurred to me as I glanced at the crypt that I should probably catch some Z’s too. Tonight my three companions would be rejuvenated and ready to go. No doubt Quintas would have a plan. I needed to change my thinking and sleep when they slept or this whole adventure would be us waiting for each other to sleep. I could adjust. Being vampires, they could not change when they rested.
            Since I was too frightened to sample any of the vegetation, I decided I would content myself with a drink of water and then I would come back and try to get a nap in before the others woke up.
            I really hadn’t wandered for hours before. It was only a twenty minute walk to the fresh burbling stream I had found before. I drank until I had my fill, and then as I had before, I ducked in to the trees to make my way back to the graveyard. 
            I settled myself into the sweet smelling grass and closed my eyes, willing myself to go to sleep.  But the sun was so hot and I felt pretty rested. Add to that the prospect for adventure and my mind just wouldn’t allow me to go to sleep.
            The sun was just beginning to lower in the sky. The heat, though, lingered and I was beginning to get thirsty again. Ignoring the growling of my stomach was also something that was becoming increasingly difficult. This whole adventure thing was seriously overrated, I thought. Or maybe just adventures with vampires were boring. I couldn’t help but thinking about Emryl. While I had been simply sitting under a tree, he was going through some kind of horrendous, painful torture. I was starting to get very anxious and as the sky went from bright, sweltering blue to a beautiful reddish orange to a calming, cooling, purple, I kept glancing at the crypt wondering how dark it would get before my companions woke up and we would actually be able to accomplish something.
            Had they maybe expected me to do some research during the day? Maybe I should have been looking for a town and been talking to people to see if there had been unusual activity going on in the last couple of days. But then I remembered we were in Spain and I didn’t speak a syllable of Spanish. Also, people weren’t stupid, I remember getting the heebie jeebies from Zhivvah from the moment I met her. It was a group of vampires called the protectors that had kidnapped Emryl and Dr. Payton. Simple folk, especially ones that had never been desensitized by television, movies, books or video games would definitely pick up some creepy vibes from vampires. And I decided that talking to people probably wouldn’t have done me any good anyhow. Perhaps I was trying to make myself feel a little bit better about doing absolutely nothing for the entire day.
            I could still see alright, it wasn’t quite black when I finally grew restless enough that I felt I couldn’t wait for another second. I stood up and brushed grass off of my pants. Would it be dangerous, I wondered, walking in to a crypt full of sleeping vampires? I could feel my stomach churning with hunger. I hadn’t eaten much more then crusty bread and moldy cheese since this morning… would they be hungry too? And if they were hungry, I thought to myself, would they be able to resist feasting on the easiest, most convenient snack of me?
            At the heavy doorway of the crypt, I hesitated as those thoughts ran through my mind. I wasn’t quite sure how this whole thing worked yet. Maybe I should wait and let them come to me. I was just about to go back and sit under the tree and wait, when I heard muffled, scraping sounds from within the little stone house. Somebody was stirring and I figured with their sense of smell, they would already know I was there. It had taken me quite some time to shut the door. I wasn’t very strong and it was very, very heavy and it took me equally as long to get the dang thing opened again.
            “Rise and shine!” I called out, wiping my sweaty brow and grinning brightly. But what I saw, wiped the smile right off my face. Instead of being greeted by the handsome, perfect faces of my three vampire companions, what I saw was the distorted, mostly rotted, decaying and skeletal faces of the three corpses. All three of them had stood up and were slowly making their way over to their own coffins. Pieces of flesh hung from their bones. Their hair was disarrayed and clumped in the back where they had been lying in it for however many years. I knew all three of them had been dead for quite some time because while they all wore clothes, the clothes were falling apart too. Great holes in many spots where the chemical reactions from decomposing bodies had helped to expedite the breaking down of material.
            Apparently I had seen too many zombie movies. I expected them to turn towards me and with a super human speed and an unnatural hunger for human flesh, attack me. But none of the walking corpses even seemed aware that I was there.  I felt extremely foolish for not having the foresight to grab my little poker. I had left it by the tree. But none of the creatures was moving very fast at all. I grunted unhappily but turned and jogged back to the tree. In the dim light it took me a minute to find the black weapon that was buried by the long grass. They didn’t have lawn mowers in 1408. Finally I had my trusty weapon in hand and I ran back to the crypt.
            One of the things had actually made it to its coffin. For a minute I watched it, wondering what it was trying to do. It kept walking in to the side of its coffin, would stumble backwards and then walk forward again. After a little while I decided that the problem was that its brains had decomposed and that it was literally incapable of thinking. It wanted back in its resting place, but couldn’t figure out how to open the coffin lid to get back inside.
            With a loud yell I raised my poker above my head and ferociously I swung it and the things head went flying. I imagined it would collapse into a useless heap of bones but it didn’t. Without its head it continued to walk into the coffin. I raised the poker again and was just about to scatter its ribs around the room, but when I attempted to strike it again I found resistance. I figured it was another one of the walking skeletons and with gritted teeth I spun around and pushed as hard as I could against my attacker.
            “Woe!” Quintas cried as he actually stumbled backwards a few feet. “Don’t hurt them, Syd,” he said with a slight smile. He steadied himself, and approached me.

No comments:

Post a Comment