All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Hearken to the Demon
For a millennia They slept,
Their faith with Us.
Bathed in the blood of the weak we waken.
Risen from our earthly tombs we gather.
Our temples abundant with our faithful followers.
They worship in vain; we are no gods.
We work no miracles, only tragedies.
We bring no life, only death.
No better than the Devil himself.
We, his children.
Yet they come to us with open arms and warm hearts.
We repay them in full.
The kiss of death, they receive.
We feast on their life’s blood to sustain us for it is alive as we are not,
and leave them drained and soulless.
Forced to walk among the living though we are not of them,
yet unable to perish for we are neither dead nor among the dying.
This, our fate: to forever roam the Earth, aimlessly.
This, our life;
We, the immortal demons of this world.
I’d never questioned what I was until now.
It’s around one o’ clock in the morning and I find myself over-looking the awe-inspiring streets of Portsmouth, Massachusetts pondering, on the balcony of my Victorian-style town house, the questions that no one has ever been able to answer for me; not even when I was human. Questions of the beginning, the end, God (no God?), evolution vs. creation, the “Big-Bang” vs. God’s work. Life. The questions everyone wants answered but that have no answers. Not until after death, anyway- but where’s the guarantee that there is anything after death? Who’s to say that you don’t just fade away into oblivion, nothingness?
When I was created, my Creator only told me I’d need to do what ever I had to to sustain myself. “Don‘t think about it. Just do what needs be done.”
Since then I’d never gave it any thought. Just as he’d instructed. I’ve killed thousands, and thousands more await. The odds are against them. It’s either me or them and I am a selfish creature.
For the last few centuries- I’ve since lost count of them- I’ve killed with no remorse. Never thinking of what happens to them; their families, do they have children? I have scant memory of my own human life. I remember I had a mother and a father, though I can‘t picture what they looked like. And a brother, I think. Did I have a wife? Kids, perhaps? That’s where my memory starts to blur. Sometimes it bothers me that I can’t remember my own family. Not tonight. There is too much on my mind to dwell on the past.
I sighed. The thirst was coming back, starting to burn my throat, making my mouth salivate in anticipation. I ignored it. Let it burn. Let it torture me as I’ve tortured them.
That’s what started it all. Ignoring it. I groaned. “There’s no winning is there?” I asked aloud, though, to whom, even I wasn’t sure.
I turned around and headed back inside. Closing the sliding glass door behind me, I snatched up my coat and ambled off to the ornately carved mahogany door. The wind was stirring outside and roaring maliciously in it’s wrath. As I walked along the stone-paved sidewalk, I witnessed a businessman’s hat devoured in the storm‘s fury. He was flailing about, maneuvering against the winds. I stood picturesque, not being affected even in the slightest by the raging elements at work.
The snow was falling down in great masses that were already covering the street. I couldn’t feel the cold, though signs of it were all too evident around me. I hadn’t since I was changed. The coat was for looks. To keep inconspicuous.
I turned down the dismal alleyway on my left. I smiled to myself; it was a sad smile. I’d found exactly what I’d came here for.
The drunken man stared up at me in wonder with the same conclusion in his eyes that all mortals make when they witness my flawless, iridescent skin, and my near-perfect angelic features.
His tone made me want to weep.
“No, my friend, far from it,” I answered truthfully. I wasn’t going to lie to him on what was to be his deathbed. Taking a deep breath I pulled him into my deadly embrace. He struggled at first, as they all do. It was a useless attempt. The strongest man in the world wouldn’t be able to break this hold in which I held him.
I opened my mouth and let my teeth graze the length of his throat. As my fangs punctured his skin he screamed aloud. The blood instantly flooded my mouth and the ecstasy of the act overwhelmed me. The man moaned at the pleasure he obtained through the bond that vampires forge with humans when feeding. As his blood filled me, satiating my thirst, my mind began to wander.
Their bodies strewn across the floor; bloody and mangled. Wide, unseeing eyes staring up at the ceiling. A mother and child entwined. The mother an empty shell, no life. The child crying out in terror. Who did this? Who could possibly do this! The child continued to scream.
My hands were wet. Why were my hands wet? I looked down. The truth hit me. Hard.
Reality slammed back into me and I dropped the drunken man. He fell to my feet, panting for breath. My breathing had become frantic and uneven as well. I peered down at the man at my feet and found him looking up at me. He had the same expression upon his face as the child. Terror. The lines on his face were weary but the terror there was unmistakable. I had caused his terror. I heard his heart beating rapidly and knew right then, from its tenor, that he wouldn’t live much longer.
I turned quickly on my heel and attempted to run; run from this grotesque sight of which I had created.
“Don‘t leave me,” I heard him call out weakly, and then he was gone.
I turned reluctantly back around. How could I ignore such a task? I picked him up around the torso and draped him tenderly over my shoulder. Some prize.
The nearest cemetery was a couple blocks away, but I carried him the whole way. Keeping to the shadows and taking alleyways when they were available, I reached the cemetery swiftly. At once, I found him an empty space under an oak tree near the man-made pond that seems to take residence in all cemeteries. I shoveled the dirt up quickly and efficiently, careful to avoid pulling out the thick roots of the tree in my haste, and placed his lifeless body in the pit. I refilled the hole and did it up to look as it had before I had interfered and left.
The first signs of dawn were beginning to show as I reached my front door. I opened it, took my coat off, and headed straight for the cellar. The dark, cold enclosure comforted me. It was familiar and it made me feel safe, though I knew nothing could hurt me in the first place. It felt like home. I laid down in the coffin carved from ivory and inlaid in marble that I’d had specially made which resembled my skin so well, and closed the case, welcoming the blissful sleep that had accompanied me ever since I had been changed.
“Sleep well, my friend, ” someone muttered in the corner of the cellar. A male voice. I hadn’t sensed another presence which meant I hadn’t been on my guard. I’d made myself vulnerable. Someone else was here. In my house. They knew my resting place. I started, in a panic, my eyes flying open wide, but it was too late. The dark bliss was already taking me under. I would not wake until the sun fell beneath the horizon once again.
As the last rays of the sun shrunk from the sky and dusk came, I wakened. I pushed open my coffin with perfect ease, fully aware. No one was there waiting for me. I searched the whole house, trying my very hardest to find a trace of the man. Definitely not human, I mused. I would’ve caught his scent effortlessly. I couldn’t find any trace of him! I went back to the cellar and scented the air around the corner where he had been and still no trace of him!
I grunted, giving up, and went to sit down on the balcony.
I relaxed in my nicely cushioned armchair, closing my eyes.
“Come to me, my friend.”
I jumped. It was his voice! In my mind!
“Who are you?!” I yelled back at him through my own mind. Rather offensively if I may say so myself. What right had he to be in my mind? Let alone my house!
“All will be answered in time, my friend. Come to me now,” he answered back to me.
“Stop calling me that. I don‘t know who you think you are but-”
“I think I am a man that you would be wise to obey, boy,” he cut me off, sounding slightly frustrated, dropping all pretenses of kindliness.
His tone may have hid the deep anger he was feeling but, probing his mind, I picked up on the menace swelling around it, just waiting to be released. And he was powerful. I could sense that as well. There was a raw power that shimmered and radiated at the corners of his mind dangerously close to the surface.
I shot up out of my seat and followed my senses to wear the man’s mind was instructing me to go.
I ended up just going right downstairs into the parlor. He was sitting right there in my recliner. I scented the air. Still no scent.
Coming to this maddeningly exasperating realization, I took in his features. First of all, I noticed his pale, iridescent skin. Vampire. Of course. I mentally kicked myself for not figuring that out earlier. Vampires can’t detect other vampires unless the other party wants it so. I’m not sure why, but I’ve met a few others of my kind over the centuries and that is how it is. Secondly, he had the most perfect features I’d ever seen. Long, glossy, black hair tied in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, and two thick strands framing his face. His eyes were black as well. Though this will sound cliché, it looked as if he could see right into my mind, my soul with those ebony-colored eyes. He had a straight, perfect nose. The kind you see on all of those old Greek statues. He also had a muscular build. That much I could tell, though he wore a long-sleeved black sweater. He was gorgeous. The mortal models of this world would commit suicide if they laid eyes on him.
After my thorough observation I looked back up at him to see him as a whole. I found him in the process of looking up to meet my eyes. He’d been studying me as well.
The third observation I made: this was my creator.
He smiled up at me seeing the recognition that I knew was plastered across my face.
“And how has my fledgling been?” he asked with unhidden enjoyment. I realized that that had been the first time he’s spoken aloud to me in over I-don’t-know-how-many centuries.
“It has been too long. As a matter of fact, ten centuries,” he said, no doubt reading my mind.
“I wish you wouldn‘t do that. It really makes me feel so… exposed,” I told him truthfully. He laughed again.
“You really think I’d put you in harm’s way? Oh, my wonderful fledgling. You need not fear me,” he said with a reassuring smile.
I believed him. I sighed. “I‘ve been okay. A lot has happened of late,” I told him.
“Oh, I know. I caught you thinking about it just last night. You need not worry. I shall fulfill your needs of companionship,” he said, his smile genuine.
“Oh, honey, you shouldn‘t worry about me so much. I‘ll be back soon, okay?” Katy asked, grabbing her keys. Her warm lips felt refreshing on my cool cheek as she kissed me before hurrying off to the open front door.
“Okay,” I told her as I watched her departing figure get into the car. As she put the key in the ignition she looked up through the window and gave me one last smile.
I smiled half-heartedly back at her as the car pulled out of the driveway.
She drove off down the street and didn’t once look back.
I was already back inside in our room when I caught the sound of screeching tires and car horns just a few blocks away. I sped out of the house and down the street with inhuman speed, not caring who saw me.
There lay her car upside-down. Her delicate hand, blood-stained and hanging out of the shattered window. I opened the door easily and pulled out her frail, limp body from the totaled vehicle. She was dead. No matter how hard I tried to produce a heart-beat in her lifeless body, her chest would not heave. There was nothing I could do about it. I could’ve saved her. I could have made her immortal with me. It’s my fault!
I cried out, hugging her to myself.
Trying strenuously to gather up some nonexistent calm, I turned to the semi.
It was parked askew in front of her azure blue jeep. The driver was unharmed.
For now, I thought menacingly. Mortals were gathered around the accident, cell phones out, calling the police and snapping pictures simultaneously.
How dare they!
I gripped Katy close and darted away holding her to me. She was not returning my hold.
A tear ran down my face as the truth hit me. She wouldn’t be coming back. I would never feel her comforting, warm arms around me again, nor feel her warm lips on mine ever again. I began to cry again.
I looked up at my creator and felt a cold tear stream down my face. He got out of the chair and came to me, wiping away my tear with one of his beautiful, slender fingers. He pulled me close.
“It‘s okay now. I‘m here; I won‘t let anyone else hurt you,” he said in a tone that was supposed to be comforting. I gave in to his comfort, returning his embrace and allowing myself to let go, crying into his shoulder.
As I recovered myself, I broke from our embrace slipping into the armchair behind me. He allowed me to part, though, if he had not, I do not believe I would have been able to achieve such an act with my strength pinned against his. He slipped back into the chair that he had been resting in when I had entered and proceeded in watching me. The whole time his eyes stayed locked on mine. I tried to look away from his penetrating gaze but found myself unable to do so. It was as if he was willing me to face him, unintentionally.
He was the one to look away, with no visible effort on his part, and I felt my muscles slacken in response. My body had gone tense under his short scrutiny. I took a deep breath and reclined in the wooden chair forcing myself to be calm.
“How have you been, Creator?” I asked him once it became apparent that he was not going to be the one to take the initiative this time.
He smiled, his pearly white teeth gleaming, delighted at my inquiry. “I have been well, fledgling. My sleep has revitalized me. I was not once interrupted.” He seemed very pleased at this, I could tell, because his eyes widened and his smile remained, so I returned his smile and nodded once in mock understanding.
“I am pleased that you are well, Creator,” I replied to him.
“Oh, fledgling, you need not speak to me so formally. You may address me as Wesley. That is my name as I would have it be,” he smiled at me as if he had just done me a great favor.
“And you, Wesley, may address me as Declan, as you see fit,” I informed him, though I was sure that he had already known that from his delves into my mind, “and what exactly do you mean when you say that Wesley is your name ‘as you would have it be‘ ?”
“Declan,” I corrected him.
“Declan,” he repeated. “I am terribly sorry, it has become a habit. I shall fix it at once. As I was saying, Wesley is the name I have chosen to be titled in this awakening. In my past, I have been known by many different and unique names, and I revise them with each slumber,” he explained to me “Of those names, I have been a Dean, a Collyn in my time as an Irishman, an Adrian ‘Ian’ for short, and a Christopher as well. There are many more, but those are the ones that you will have the most familiarity with. The others come from many different cultural backgrounds which you are too young to have known about. They are of many different and separate condemned cultures. The last of their people would have died off ages ago, their languages and names going with them,” he educated me. I was intrigued with his teachings and genuinely disappointed when he did not reiterate on these unknown names of which he spoke. “If you wish it, I shall enlighten you on those another time, but the time for that is not now. We have much to discuss, for I will ask you to be my educator,” he smiled, amused at the thought.
It boggled my mind that he thought I could possibly have anything to teach him which he did not already know excessively well.
He must’ve seen my confusion for he laughed aloud and said “I wish you to tell me of these times of which we are living in right now, my dear friend, Declan. I wish you to update my knowledge on the times of which I have missed in my sleep. It appears that, through it, the humans have been very busy,” at the last he chuckled. “They are a unique race, the humans; very gifted in their capacity for knowledge and memory. They have grown much in their beliefs as well as in their accomplishments I‘ve noticed, in my queries, over the past few days of my awakening,” he told me of his observations.
“Oh, yes. It has been my belief that, through watching them, they are the most developed race on this earth; besides our own, of course,” I revised. “They have made a great many strives in all aspects of their survival since you changed me.”
“Strives yes, but with many consequences. Have you not sensed it in the air you breathe everyday? They contaminate it with their so-called “advances”. Those contraptions they build harm it each and every minute of the day. The earth is dying. Slowly, yes, but surely,” he told me, urgency in his eyes. It was my turn to speak.
“Wesley, these contraptions, of which you refer, are called cars. They are a work in progress. The humans have just begun to realize their full potential. They are still developing in their designs and the means to make them work. The humans have noticed the pollution as well as you have. Many have already begun to research and experiment with new ways of building the cars which are more efficient and, as they call it, “earth-friendly”. You yourself have agreed that they have a great capacity for knowledge. They will use it. I expect the solution will come to them within the century. The humans are very bright and they will find a way to save the earth, though for the selfish reason of saving themselves,” I said, pleased with my answer. He smiled at me, captivated by my knowledge on the subject.
“Declan, you please me to no end. You have been very meticulous in your studies, it seems. I cannot wait to hear the rest of your observations. Surely you have many more of which will spark the utmost interest in me,” he expressed with utter exuberance. I smiled widely, in spite of myself, that I had been able to create this much approval in my creator. I was delighted at the pride he held for me in his eyes. If he had asked me to do a dive off of the top of the Empire State Building, I would have done it, if it would have had the same affect. Not that it would have that great of a risk to me. I would walk away from such an act, unscathed. That analogy would only work for humans, so it seemed. The better choice words would be that Wesley was my pleased master, so to speak, and I was his puppy who had just demonstrated a new trick. I smiled, in spite of myself, at my childish thoughts. I turned back up to Wesley and he laughed aloud. Confused, I searched his expression for a sign of where this outburst had come from and chuckled, a little embarrassed. He had been listening to my inner ramblings...