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.

Poem of the Day: I Could

Hee hee.  I have literally a hundred of these poems that I wrote back in 1993 for that bet from my friends that I couldn't write a hundred poems.  Admittedly I'm not going to post every single one.  Some of them are not... worthy.  This is one of my favorites.  Not because it is necessarily well written.  But it's honest and true.  I think we all have that inner voice that questions everything.  It's not a positive poem, but it makes me access where I am every time I go back and read it,  Have I improved?

I COULD

I could write a comedy.  But I’m not very good at comedies.

I could write a drama.  But I would get very depressed.

I could do a dance.  But I have no rhythm.

I could sing a song.  But I have no voice.

I could call a friend.  But I have none.

I could be happy but there is no joy in my heart.

I want to cry, but I’m afraid of what people will say to me.

I shouldn’t be afraid, but there is no security.

I could write a poem, but there is no rhyme.

I could but...

I could be but....

I could write s story but there is no plot.

I could make a friend but friends seem so far away.

I could take a trip but there is nowhere to go.

I could try but I always fail.

I could fly to the moon but I have no ship.

I could see the bright stars but my vision is bad.

I could be somebody but nobody cares

I could be beautiful but nobody sees.

I could be me but I don’t know who I am.

Am I closer to knowing who I am today then when I wrote this?  Or perhaps even just the last time I read it.  Are you?

Immortal Part 18

            I thought the fight was almost over and I only could hope that my team had won, when suddenly I was facing a horrible, distorted leering face. His face was gray and unpleasant. His eyes glimmering with an evil desire and I could only imagine what he would do to me. My hands, somehow acted before my mind had decided what to do. With strength I wasn’t even aware I had within me, I lunged the poker right at the heart of the creature that was threatening me. I think I might have taken him by surprise because I knew he was much faster and much stronger than I was, but the fact that I had attacked him seemed to shock him. He glanced down in horror at the metal pole protruding from his chest. With an angry yell I tore the thing from out of him and in one swift movement I swung it as hard as I could and hit him squarely in the neck. He went down like a rag doll and in one more strike his head was separated from his body. I held up my poker ready for another monster to come at me.

            “Come,” I heard Quintas bark with a panic tone in his voice. But when I spun to see him he was smiling at me.

            At first I tried to run behind them, but I was quite frankly, a robust human and didn’t move as quickly as any of my companions liked. Tavian finally grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. As I was hanging uselessly from his back I had a couple of seconds to think about what I had just done and I was deeply disturbed by it. Had I really just killed somebody? I had done it without hesitation. I had done it with precision and violence and suddenly I wanted to weep. What kind of monster was I?

            “It’s good,” I heard Quintas say after what seemed a very long time and Tavian practically dropped me. For the first time since I had seen him he was panting and winded.

            “We need rest,” Tavian said, “And besides… dawn is approaching.” He pointed at the sky and all of us looked. Sure enough the sky was getting a little bit lighter and on the edge of the horizon a sliver of yellow light could be seen. The sun would soon be basking us with all of its glory.

            “This way,” Quintas said decidedly. “It’s but a short way.”

            They walked a little faster than I was used to, but I had no trouble keeping up. Although, by the time we reached our destination I was the only one that was breathing hard. I was embarrassed but if the others noticed they didn’t say anything.

            As we approached I hesitated. The sun was coming up fast and the headstones of the graves were starting to cast long shadows upon the dew ridden grass.

            “A cemetery?”

            “We need coffins,” Tavian told me. “We need rest.”

            Quintas approached the first crypt and tore open the door. It was a family tomb, obviously, and there were nine coffins that I could see. Quintas opened the first one and the smell of death and decay hit me full force. It didn’t seem to bother him though, and he carefully, respectfully lifted the corpse from the casket and placed it in the corner. He pulled a jar of dirt from out of his bag and sprinkled it sparingly within the box before climbing in and shutting the lid.

            Zhivvah and Tavian were moving just as quickly. Before closing her own lid on the confiscated coffin, she glanced at me, “shut the tomb door and wait for us. You should be safe. If trouble does come, which, during the day I doubt it will, wake Tavian first. He’ll be the safest.”

            She hissed as a ray of sunlight came through the open doorway and shone upon her skin. She slammed the coffin lid shut and I was left standing alone in crypt with three decaying carcasses.

            Quintas had opened the heavy stone door without hardly a thought. For me, I struggled against the weight of it for a good long while before I made progress.  I never did get it all the way closed before I gave up, but unless you were looking for it, it would be hard to tell that this tomb had been disturbed.  I walked across the cemetery to a nice shady tree across the way and settled myself down against the trunk.

            It really had been very nice of Zhivvah to look for food for me, but my nose wrinkled as I pulled out the hard, crusty bread and green cheese. The cheese smelled almost as bad as the tomb had smelled but I was getting very, very hungry and forced myself to eat it. Especially considering I had no idea where my next meal was coming from.

            I wondered if I had enough guts to wander in the pursuit of some water or whether I should just stay put. For a long time I just nodded off and on in the shade of the tree, but as the sun grew higher and hotter I knew I wasn’t going to be able to go much  longer without water and the more I thought about it, the more parched and dry my throat seemed to become. I tried to distract myself. But just like a small sliver, the more you try to ignore it, the more the pain throbs and pesters you until you have no choice but to address it. I wanted water.

            My body was stiff as I tried to stand. The sun was high now. It was after noon and I had been sitting under that tree for a long time. Add to that the physical exertion I had exposed myself to even though I was unaccustomed to a lot of exercise didn’t make for a good combination.  I hobbled around in a circle until my legs were working normally again and then I threw my leather bag over my shoulder and headed towards the dirt road that ran alongside the cemetery.

            I used my poker, my murder weapon, as a walking stick and I hummed to myself as I walked. I wasn’t sure where I was going, really. I just kind of hoped I would run into the 1408 version of a gas station really soon. Maybe a well or a river. So far, I hadn’t met any people, not that I really minded. I just thought it was weird. But then I had to remind myself that in 1408 the population of the world wasn’t close to 7 billion.  It was maybe somewhere around 500 million. Most towns and villages would be small and sparsely populated. It would, I realized, be small and cozy. Everybody would know each other and I would be a complete stranger. I would be looked upon with suspicion. Then I realized my clothes were going to be very out of place as well. In 1408 women probably didn’t walk around wearing blue jeans, a pink T-shirt or white tennis shoes.  I found myself regretting the decision to leave the cemetery but I also knew I really need water. I told myself I would walk just a little bit more before turning back.

            I wasn’t afraid of running in a vampire or anything like that but I became more and more paranoid about chancing upon a regular inhabitant that would warn all their friends and neighbors about the odd stranger that had invaded their little town. Would they declare me a witch? Would they decide immediately that I was of the devil? Instinctively I finally veered off of the road and took to the trees which lined the road. My footsteps were still irritatingly loud, but at least I wasn’t parading down the middle of the street. I cringed each time I stepped on a leaf or stick, like an alarm alerting anybody within earshot that I was there.

Poem of the Day: History

Again this is a poem from back in 1992 or 1993.  Part of that 100 poem deal...

HISTORY

When Eve ate the Apple Adam fell,

when Cain killed Abel Cain went to hell.

When Christ on a cross hung and died,

Through Napoleon’Ss power, the children cried.

Romeo and Juliet and all of their true love,

 Noah after forty days and the snow white turtle dove.

Trough ages of dark they heard the cry,

by evil men of those who die.

A man came to power, 1933

 of a country in Europe called Germany,

of hatred and evil is all that he knew. 

Killed 6 million people most of them Jews.

A man named Sadam from a place called Iraq

of knowledge and power none did he lack,

but greed and money and the power too

 got to him and it grew and grew.

What makes a man believe he can win

a world a universe that can’t belong to him?

Vietnam and world wars one and two

 Korea and others it can’t be true!

A wall made of stone of men who have died

the tears of a widowed who died as she cried.

A little boy who goes off to play

 who leaves for war the very next day.

The hippies and wood stock and burning the flag.

  ‘Abortion Abortion!” it’s fine to brag.

it’s OK to kill if it’s justified

it isn’t a baby growing inside.

It’s all right to swear and to be a fraud,

 but the law says it’s forbidden to pray to God.

It’s all right to drink get high and fight,

 to dim the future in a child’s sight.

But being different, dreaming a dream.

 Doing some good, some joy you bring.

Another tragedy this world cant need,

if people will listen and people will heed.

If you think that this world is just and fine

 join the others and step in line.

The Romans fell and so shall we,

 another of histories Tragedies.

Immortal Part 17

Chapter Four (4)

            An unseen threat encompassed me. I ran but I couldn’t get away. It was everywhere. A thousand unsettling images assaulted me. A wide grinning mouth with no eyes, glowing red eyes with no faces, bloody body parts, heads on pikes, screaming. Somebody, somewhere was screaming a heart wrenching, piercing scream. And then I realized it was me.

            I opened my eyes to realize I was drenching with sweat. I was suffocating and I scratched wildly at the confining quarters I was trapped in. Then the lid opened and Tavian’s face was before me.

            “Chill,” Tavian said and he reached into the coffin and lifted me up and placed me gently on to my feet. He held me until he thought I was steady. “Are you okay?”

            “I don’t know,” I said honestly.

            “Well you did better than I thought you would.”

            “Thanks, I think.”

            “Yeah,” Tavian said awkwardly. “Whatever.”

            “Are your mom and Quintas still asleep?”

            “Heck no. They’ve been awake for ages. They’re getting us supplies. We’re supposed to stay here and wait.”

            “What kind of supplies?”

            “Weapons. Food for you… an idea of where to get food for us.”

            “You mean blood,” I said accusingly.

            “It wasn’t my choice,” Tavian exclaimed defensively, “I was born this way. And my mother didn’t choose it either. We can’t help what we are.”

            “So, what exactly does it mean to be half a vampire? How does that work?”

            “My mother wasn’t a vampire when I was conceived. My father… he was a vampire and he uh…” Tavian couldn’t seem to blush but he averted his eyes and he stared uncomfortably at the floor. “Forced her… you know? I wasn’t exactly wanted.”

            “Oh,” I mumbled sympathetically. “I see.”

            “Anyhow,” Tavian continued, “my mom said I was born with a full head of hair and a full set of teeth...”

            “You’re a Dhampir.” I said. “I read about them.”

            “Whatever you want to call it. At any rate… all it means is that I don’t really fit in either world. I’m about half as strong and half as fast as a normal vampire. I still have to eat a good amount of blood but I can tolerate some regular foods. Nothing with garlic or anything.”

            “So the garlic thing really works.”

            “It repels anybody with any sense of smell,” Tavian cried. “But yeah, I guess.”

            “Are you immortal?”

            “Yes.”

            “The sunlight thing?”

            “I’m okay in sunlight. Mom or Quintas wouldn’t be. It wouldn’t kill them. I mean they wouldn’t turn to dust or anything but it messes them up pretty good.”

            “So how did your mom get changed? I mean… how do you become a vampire?”

            “Like I said, my dad was a real upstanding fellow. He raped her and left her for dead. Which for most vampires is a normal deal, you know? That’s what they do. But something about my mom… I don’t know. So he changed her instead of letting her die. It’s a huge deal creating a new vampire and there’s more rules and laws about it then you might ever think. She was allowed to live… but they took care of him.”

            “Kind of like the Vultari in Twilight?”

            Tavian grunted, “Anyhow… my mom thinks they would have taken care of her too if they had known she was pregnant. I’m not allowed either. It complicates things too much. By the time they found out… Septimus and a couple of the other ancients had found out and they were intrigued and fought for us. They helped my mom have me and kind of took us under their wing, you know?”

            “So… if you’re immortal… how could you be a baby and…”

            “My mom says I’m still a growing boy. Septimus says that most of us half breeds… which there aren’t very many, grow to optimum age. About 25 or so and then we kind of level out. See, it sucks to be Septimus sometimes. He was changed when he was 17. He’s not even a legal adult… even though he’s like 4000 years old.”

            “Do you have supernatural abilities?” I asked curiously. I liked that he was answering my questions and since we were just waiting I didn’t see any harm in it.

            “You read too many stupid vampire books. I’m not Edward Cullin. I can’t read minds or tell the future or anything like that.”

            “What about your mom or Quintas? Maybe you can’t do any of that stuff because you’re a half vampire.”

            “Nope. They can’t do anything like that either. We’re fast and we’re strong but that’s about the extent of supernatural abilities. We don’t even turn in to bats or anything.”

            “Oh,” I said disappointedly.

            Tavian shrugged, “Sorry to disappoint you.”

            It wasn’t his fault really and I didn’t know why I was so bothered by the fact that he really couldn’t do anything but suck blood, but I was. I tried to dismiss it, “So what else?”

            “What do you mean what else?”

            “How old are you?”

            “I’m 18.”

            “And you’re mom?”

            “She’s technically 41. She was in college when that butt head took her. But really she’s only a couple months older than I am. For a vampire… life starts after you’re changed.”

            “Well how does that whole thing work? Not cursed one minute and then cursed and damned the next. It wasn’t even her fault! Or yours!” I cried angrily. The injustice of the whole situation was hitting me now.

            “I guess God will sort all that out.”

            “You believe in God?”

            “I try not to,” Tavian replied. “It’s kind of scary knowing that there’s no hope. It’s easier to believe that the whole idea of God and the Devil is made up by humans to help them decide right from wrong.

            But my mom believes and she’s always talking about it. She believes that if we do the best we can despite the obstacle we’ve been given that God will sort it out. She says that’s the true test. I think she kind of deludes herself.”

            It was kind of a dismal prospect and all of a sudden I was very angry. It didn’t seem right somehow. But I didn’t have much time to stew about it. Quintas and Zhivvah were suddenly back. They both looked a little rattled, which shocked me, and each of them had an armload of stuff.

            “We’ve been spotted,” Quintas said. “The protectors are always on the lookout for unusual activity. They’ll be there soon, to at least find out why we are here.” He dropped the various items he had gathered on the floor. Several leather bags, a couple of stick looking things that Tavian told me with exasperation were torches, and he reminded me that we were now in Spain in the year 1408. America hadn’t even been discovered yet. There was no electricity here. I picked up one of the torches and sighed. This whole thing was becoming very real.

            Quintas had also managed to find some weapons. He chose a cross bow with several arrows for himself, while he left a crude looking knife, a spear of sorts, and a couple of rusted poker looking things. They weren’t really swords, but when I picked one up I found it was pretty heavy and I could see that it might do some damage. Tavian picked up the knife and the spear. He tucked the knife into his pants pockets and leaned up against the spear as he examined the items that Zhivvah had gathered.

            Zhivvah really was a mother, I thought, as most of what she had retrieved were items for me. There was a crusty, somewhat moldy loaf of bread but Tavian once again reminded me that this was 1400 and that I shouldn’t expect Wonder bread quality bread. This was hand made from crude wheat and water mostly. It didn’t taste wonderful but I appreciated the thought. She also had some very moldy, green cheese. But I reminded myself that cheese was mostly mold anyhow and I could disregard the worst of the outside. I had to suppress a gag when I realized the whole thing was pretty green.

            She had also found me a blanket. It wasn’t soft like the cotton or fleece blankets I was accustomed to. It was hard and stiff and very furry. Tavian told me it was wool and that the hair was from the sheep. But again, it was very kind of Zhivvah to even think about that.

            “So what will we tell them?” Tavian asked. “Or are we just going to fight them?”

            “With her here?” Quintas scowled jutting his chin at me. “We’ll have no choice but to fight them. They’ll smell her from miles away. All we can do is hope we’re not too outnumbered and then we’ll have to move quickly.”

            “So Syd,” Tavian said turning to me now very quickly, “It’s true what they say about killing vampires. You have to strike them in the heart. Then you’ll have to decapitate them. We won’t have time to burn them… though that would be best. Go for the heart.”

            After that, everything happened so fast. I had barely the time to stash my bread and cheese in the leather bag I had thrown over my shoulder when suddenly seven strangers seemed to materialize before us. I heard them hiss something about “human” and then Tavian, Quintas and Zhivvah were attacking full force. It was a blur of activity and I couldn’t even process it all. I could hear grunting and screaming and yelling and I could hear an unpleasant squishing sound, and then cracking sounds.

Poem of the Day: Easter

Easter

 

A child born in a manger stall,

Born to rise and then to fall.

A silent time, a starry night,

A child born to teach the right.

In Nazareth the child grew,

Raised and taught as a loving Jew,

A child with wisdom, quiet and shy,

With love in his heart and a sparkling eye.

A gentle face and a loving hand,

Humble and pure not proud and grand.

A carpenter’s son, simple and plain,

felt more love, and endured more pain.

He healed the sick and the blind man saw,

Perfect faith without a flaw.

The lame man walked, the Leprous cried,

he healed their sores so they needn’t hide.

The dead man walked next to his side,

He was humble and modest showed little pride.

He taught the poor and loved the child

He was gentle and quiet, tender and mild.

He was crucified that we might live,

Born to die his life to give.

Three days in the tomb, he lay in death,

then he awoke with life’s sweet breath.

Resurrected he taught all men,

that they would rise and live again.

He’s watching us from heaven above,

He’ll always show his perfect love.

Immortal Part 16

            “You said they’re important!”

            “Ahhhh!” Quintas agreed, “That is the beautiful thing about humans. They are given the blessing of choice. Do you know how many ‘important’ men passed up on their callings because the path was too difficult? Another soul will always rise to fulfill a position if it is passed upon or cannot be completed by one. That is the other beautiful thing about humans. Not one is more important than another. What can be completed by one, can be completed by another. Of course… for beings that have such limited time, it is inconvenient to have to wait… perhaps hundreds of years for the replacement to come along. But what Dr. Payton and Emryl Pemstein are destined to do… if it isn’t completed by them will someday be completed by somebody else. But as I say it could be hundreds and hundreds of years from now. For us… who are immortal time is of little consequence. For you…” and here he reached out and gently grabbed my chin, raising my head and forcing me to look at him. I shivered. “I don’t want them to die,” I whimpered.

            “Then let us begin,” Quintas said simply.

            Seemingly beyond my will I found myself standing. He offered me his arm and I took it without hesitation, like I was under a spell. Zhivvah and Tavian led us through the kitchen again and down the stairs and to the basement.

            The hundreds and hundreds of jars of dirt all looked the same to me. I didn’t even see any labels but almost immediately Zhivvah was handing several jars to Tavian.

            “How can you tell it’s the right one?” I asked.

            “By the smell,” Zhivvah told me easily.

            I won’t lie, I was more than just a little bit nervous as the three of them led me into another area and there was yet another set of stairs. We descended them to a darker, mustier area and now I found myself in a setting more fit for vampires. The place was lit only by a couple of flickering candles hanging from the wall and in the middle of the room was a row of coffins.

            “Why so many?” I asked curiously.

            Surprisingly Quintas answered, “After talking to Septimus, I thought this might be a possibility so I dug up some old coffins.”

            “Dug them up?” I croaked. I knew Tavian was strong, and I supposed this was a trait for all vampires. So imagining Quintas digging up some graves and emptying the coffins of their former occupants and with a coffin on each shoulder running through the streets, to bring them here, wasn’t difficult. “Used?”

            “Hmmm…” Quintas said cocking his head, “Does that bother you?”

            “Well, yeah!”

            He laughed, “Well, my darling, it may be something you just have to get over.” With those words he swept me up into his arms. I squealed in surprise but before I had time to process the fact that I was in the arms of one of the most beautiful perfect men I had ever had the privilege to see, I was placed into one of the coffins. Tavian had lifted the lid for me and was grinning from ear to ear. It irked me that he was enjoying this so much.

            I knew that the coffin was used because the silken lining reeked. It was so foul and disgusting I nearly wretched and I covered my mouth and nose with my hand. It was also stained in spots and I forced myself not to wonder what it was stained with. But after telling myself NOT to focus on that… of course that’s all I could focus on and the image of decomposing bodies flashed across my mind and I gagged a little bit.

            “I don’t think I can do this.”

            “This is the least of the things you’re going to be doing,” Quintas told me with slight mocking in his voice.

            That didn’t offer comfort to my soul either and I glowered unhappily at him. “Now what?”

            Tavian, I guess decided he wanted the honors of throwing a bunch of dirt on me. He did it with such relish too. Most of it he dumped on my head while he stood their grinning at me like the Cheshire cat. I wanted to smack that smile right off his face.

            “Now,” Quintas instructed. “You need to ingest one or two drops of the Tloq. And remember,” he said as he placed the empty jar at my feet. “Guard that bottle with your life.”

            I carefully untwisted the lid from the jar of Tloq. I don’t know what ingredients made up the concoction that I was supposed to drink but it smelled even more disgusting than the coffin itself. I coughed for a few minutes before I carefully poured just a couple of drops of the green liquid into the lid. Quintas had said too much would kill me and I didn’t want to take that chance. It was barely a couple of drops and Quintas nodded his approval at me. I stuck out my tongue to lap out the tiny amount of Tloq in the lid. It tasted as putrid as it smelled and it took a great amount of effort to not throw it up.

            Zhivvah took the jar from me and screwed the lid back on so that during my fit I wouldn’t spill any of the precious liquid. She waited until I was through and then handed the jar back to me.

            “Now, my dear child, courage take as you go to sleep.” Zhivvah said gingerly and she kissed her fingers and touched my forehead tenderly.

            “Sweet dreams,” Tavian taunted.

                        “Tavian,” Zhivvah scolded.

                        I felt my eyes growing heavy, even though I had just slept.  “It’s going to be alright, right?” I whispered drowsily.

            “I have great confidence that it will,” Zhivvah assured.

            I felt my head being lowered and I was too tired to protest. Whatever that Tloq stuff was, it worked awfully fast. I could hardly keep my eyes open. I heard some creaking and then everything went black. I barely had the awareness to wonder if it was because I had fallen asleep or because the coffin lid had been closed on me.