Friday, January 16, 2009

CONFESSIONS OF A VAMPIRE (Stellar's Story)


1 – STELLA LAROUCHE / VAMPIRE

I have not seen the sun in over a hundred years. I have not felt its warm, golden glow upon my skin or stared into bright early mornings when the sky is a kaleidoscope of untamable beauty. I have not lived. In my world there can be no mistakes. I am constantly on the edge of my seat much like a kid in a theatre; and the world is not as forgiving when I spill a drink.

The story I am about to tell you is riddled with guilt and grief and regrets and if you are one of those people who likes happy endings it is better that you stop now. This is by no means a fairy tale and it was never meant to be told but circumstances have forced my hand and I can no longer bear the burdens of my life alone. The world must know. My name is Stella LaRouche and I am a vampire.

A hundred and sixty seven years ago I became infected by a man whose legacy of evil will live on in the history books forever. That man, along with the young girl with whom he travelled, have become folk heroes in the fight against evil plantation owners and their bid enslave the masses. That young girl was me and the stories are somewhat true. We are no heroes however. The rivers ran red with the blood of innocents and damned alike and it still sickens me that I was an unwilling participant of a time remembered only as the ‘Black Dread.”

There is more to this story of course. It is a long and sordid tale that has never been told and by the time this is all over you will have chosen a side on which to stand. You may want to think that life is a constant battle between good and evil or black and white but the world does not operate on such assumptions. There are always varying shades of grey and we are left to decide where we stand among it all.

To say that longevity is welcome in my world is to disregard the things that are absent. There are no loved ones in the shelter of my shell; no one to wave gentle goodbyes when I depart in the early breath of evening and no soul to whisper welcoming hellos when I return. It has not always been like this. There was a time when there was life in me. Short but human moments when I was wild and free and the pressures of the world were not all consuming, but that is another story. A tale better left for another time.

You may be thinking that a long life is preferable to growing old and finally fading into nothing but it is a lot more complicated. I have watched the people I cared for grow old…and die. I have looked on as the blood of innocents was spilled to make space for more evil and I have suffered through more bitterness than you would think possible.

Nights were made so that I could roam free and become a part of something grand but even that no longer fuels my fire. I no longer feel at peace in the moonlight. The light always seems too dim and looking at deadly shadows chase after nothing invites me to crawl into dark corners and remain hidden. Time is slowly tearing away at the fabric that holds my life together and the days crawl by so slowly it seems almost as if time stands still for hours on end just because it can.

Today is the last day of my old life. It is the day when I say goodbye to all the things that have sustained me for over twelve years and move on to another place. Because the island where I live is so small it is rather difficult to remain in one place for too long. People begin noticing things and before long they become inquisitive enough to poke into places that are better left alone. They notice that the mansion on the hill seems vacant during the day although at nights shadows lurk within. They notice that cruel men disappear, never to be heard from again and they also notice that the young girl whose face twelve years ago was unlined and pretty has remained unlined and pretty.

My tale begins long before these confessions but there is not enough paper in the world to hold it all. You will learn bits and pieces of the thing that I am but the entire puzzle cannot be yet put together.

I had risen from the sleep of death only an hour earlier. The night was still young and I looked around the empty house that held so much, yet so little of me. After thirteen years it was time to move on yet again in order to avoid detection. Already there were rumors of some deep evil lurking within the shadows and many of those who lived within miles of my place knew that there was no life inside the walls. The house had already been sold and for that I was grateful. My accountant had also assisted me in moving my money around into places where too many questions would not be asked. He had been with me for seven years and knew a lot more about me than the ordinary person.

There were only two packets of blood in the refrigerator and I drank them slowly. When I was finished I walked into the empty bathroom to take a shower. I had not yet turned the water on when something prickled behind my ear and I heard noises coming up to the house. The new owners were foreigners and they would not be arriving until next week. Ben, my go to guy was not in the country and I was not expecting any visitors. I put my robe back on and listened closely as six pairs of hands tore through the thick vines surrounding my property. I would have waited for them inside the house but I did not want to stain the carpet (if it got to that) as I did not feel like cleaning any messes before I left. I walked outside barefooted, which I do not do often, and waited behind a patch of strawberry that had crept in on their own.

The men walking to my house were no experts because they were making enough noise to wake the dead. Me. The first was tall with an oblong head and frightened eyes that darted all over. The second was short and muscular with a perpetual mean marring his mixed features. He would have been handsome if he smiled but I was guessing that he never did. The third was no more that six feet tall with toned arms and gleaming skin. He was ruggedly handsome in the movie star sort of way and seemed out of place between the other two. They were all carrying cutlasses (machetes for those of you who don’t know any better).

“Should we break the door down?” Oblong head asked. He did not score very high in the intelligence department, I surmised.

“We could kick it in.” Muscular agreed. Not that bright either, which left only one.

“We could just knock.” Handsome said. Brains plus looks. That my friends is one lethal combination.

“Yes why don’t you just knock?” I walked out from my vantage point and stood before them. Oblong head had a look on his face that said I was making this way too easy. He stepped forward with his blade but handsome held him back. “Why don’t you fellas just walk away from here and we’ll forget this little incident yes!” I substituted fire for ice.

“Not when we’re getting paid a fortune for offing you.” Oblong head said.

“Shut up Steve.” Handsome told him and not so very bright man bristled but remained quiet. “Like the man said, we were paid to do a job.” He continued.

“And is that job worth your life?” I took another step forward. I was taller than two, handsome had me by a few inches. “Because if you decide to go along with this plan your life will no longer be your own.” I glowed softly under the faint light and Steve took a careful step back but Muscles was not as smart. He lunged towards me and I twisted to the side causing him to run straight into the door. He fell, groaning into the ground. “See what I mean.” I told the other two. “Who sent you here?”

Muscles got up from the ground and attacked me from behind. I did not have to turn around to stomp my feet into his belly and I caught the blade as it fell from his hands. “You got some skills I can give you that.” Handsome said. “Are you just as good in bed?” Well wouldn’t he like to know? Any other time I might have taken him up on his offer but as you will soon find out I really hate it when people try to kill me.

“Your turn.” I told oblong head. “I’m saving the pretty one for last.” Wouldn’t you know it they attacked together? I’ve taken a few sword fighting classes in my time but the cutlass not a weapon made for fighting. It was a bloody farming tool for crying out loud. Blades clashed together and sparks flew in the air. I found out that I was enjoying the fight a lot more than I should. Muscles attacked me from the back again and I sliced the blade through his arm. Handsome tried a blow to my head but I deflected that too and sent him flying in the direction of the trees. Oblong head could not believe his eyes at what he had just seen. He shouted a battle cry and ran at me, weapon pointed head on. I grabbed his hands, broke it at the elbow and threw him at muscles.

I stood over the two of them extremely angry that they had interfered with my quiet evening. “Now will you tell me who sent you?” I placed a blade at each of their throats and waited to see who would sing first. Steve won. “His name was Harry.” He cried. “Said that he would pay each of us five grand if we got rid of you. I was a trifle peeved that I was only worth fifteen thousand dollars.

“So you go around killing women at the command of an idiot like Harry. Was his last name Bruckheimer by the way?” Muscles nodded. He figured that he had nothing to lose and was finally ready to bargain for his life. I wanted to kill them, I really did but I did not want my new life to begin with death. “Stand up, both of you.” I said and they got as quickly as they could to their feet. Muscles was bleeding like a stuck pig and Steve was leaning to one side in an effort to take the pressure off his arm.

“Please don’t kill us.” Steve begged. There were fat tears rolling down his cheeks and I almost felt sorry for him. “We were just following orders.”

“What’s your name?” I asked muscles.

Da – Dana Jones.” He said miserably. I hoped that he was not lying because I would definitely kill him for that.

“And yours?” Steve was ready to bolt.

“Steven James.”

“The one in the trees. The pretty one?”

“Anderson,” Steve supplied.

“Anderson what?”

“Cooper.” He told me and I began laughing. “Are you shitting me?”

“I ain’t shitting you ma am – miss – my lady.” They must have noticed that I looked like a teenager. Most people are uncertain how to address me because I look young but I can assure you that I sound extremely adult.

“Take your clothes off.” I said, still pointing the weapons at them. They looked uncertain but I lifted my hand into the air and the sight scared them into action. Steven could hardly get his shirt past his elbow because I was damn sure that hand was hurting and Dana looked as pale as…well as pale as a vampire. It turned out that Muscles (Dana) was muscular everywhere except where it counted and Steve was packing heat.

“You’re lucky that I am a very forgiving woman.” I told them. “When you leave here you forget everything that happened tonight you hear.”

“Yes.” Steven could not wait to leave.

“What’s my name?” I asked.

“Harry never told us,” Dana replied. “He told us names and such was not important.”

“Ok. Go. Next time I see you you’re both dead.”

“What about Anderson?” Steven wanted to know.

“Get the fuck away from here.” I shouted and they bolted off, their privates bouncing as they went.

Anderson had crawled to a sitting position when I walked up to him. His cutlass was nowhere to be found and I assumed that he had lost it when I tossed him off. “So you came here to kill me did you?” I asked in a very weary voice. “I don’t take kindly to threats against my life and I really hate it when people attack me.”

“What are you gonna do?” He whimpered. His words were slurred and I would have missed it if I was not listening very carefully.

“I won’t kill you if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve already sent your friends off. Naked.”

“Why?” He wanted to know. His heir was thick and white and I brushed it away from the blood on his face.

“Because I hate violence.”

“I needed the money.”

“You also tried to kill me.”

“But you won’t kill me.”

“No. But you need to stay away from people like Harry.” His eyes widened. Was he surprised that I had found out who had sent some thugs to kill me? “That bastard Harry works for me and he sent you here to get rid of me because I happen to be a very wealthy woman and –”

He did not let me finish. “You’re just a girl.”

“I may look like a girl but there’s more to me than my face is telling.” I helped him to his feet.

“I won’t take my clothes off.” He said.

“I can take it off for you, you may like that more.” He almost smiled and I was tempted to take him to bed but you don’t sleep with a man who just tried to kill you. I also did not want him to take his clothes off because I was not sure what I would do if he did. “Don’t come looking for me. I promise next time I won’t be this lenient.” I walked away from him, cutlass still in hand.

“So you’re just letting me go? I tried to kill you.”

“And I am saving your life. Your friends should be in the hospital if they’re smart enough. You seem intelligent so you be the brain of this terrible trio and remind them that next time my kiss will be death.”

“Thank You.” His words surprised me and I turned back.

“You’re not out of the clear yet.” To him absolute credit he strolled away looking like a million dollars.

I threw the cutlasses away, tossed the clothes and went inside. The first thing I did was place a call to the man who had just tried to kill me. “Meet me at the Cabana in two hours.” I told him. If he sounded surprised to hear my voice he was hiding it well but he was nervous that much was evident from our conversation.

“How are you?” He began, making polite conversation but I cut him off abruptly. I called Ben and asked him to recommend a new accountant as soon as he received my message. I took my shower.

I made certain to dress carefully. The pant suit was a silken beige colored outfit that caressed me lovingly. I put on brown sandals and went outside to get into the only car remaining on the lot. All the others had already been taken to my new home. The coffee colored Phantom Rolls Royce had been as a gift from me to me on my last birthday. It took me to my destination where the patrons gaped first at the car and then the woman who walked out of it. I figured we must have cut a pretty striking figure when I heard a plate clatter and a waiter rush behind the bar in embarrassment.

My accountant, Mr. Bruckheimer was already seated when I entered the restaurant. Mr. B is in his late fifties, a pale, yellow man with bat like features and intense brown eyes. He greeted me like I was royalty and why wouldn’t he? I had made Mr. B a very rich man. Wonderful to see you my dear,” he bowed. “Everything is in place of course.” The nerve of that thief! I did not offer my hand. My skin I have heard is as cold as the deepest depths of hell and as unbending as Mediterranean marble. I nodded in return. “It is just delightful that you are finally here,” he babbled

I knew that there was ice in my eyes when I smiled, “I do wish that I could say the same thing.” Surprise flickered in his eyes but he was smart enough to contain it quickly. He began smiling – faltered. He knew that I knew what he had done. He was also aware of my reputation; people who crossed me did not live long enough to repeat their mistake. There was usually no trace of them either.

The silk handkerchief was out in a flash and he was wiping his brow in an effort to prevent the large beads of sweat from disturbing his pristine ivory suit. That was the least of his worries. I could feel the fear as he glanced nervously towards the door.

“Sit.” My voice was flat – intense – disturbing. He plopped hurriedly into the chair while I took my precious time to show him who was the boss.
The waitress approached. She glided across the carpeted floor with a large smile on her face and an expression of pure joy. Young lady had just finished smooching with the manager I decided. Mr. B averted his eyes when she arrived. By her name tag I learned that her name was Miriam. She was a somewhat pretty girl with fair skin and disinterested eyes. Miriam had also been Moses sister in the bible. Interesting I thought.

She popped a large, pink bubble and pulled a pad from her apron. “What can I get ya?”

“A glass of water for the gentleman – he seems to be –” I could not find anything appropriate.

Miriam glanced up from her pad and turned her nose up in disgust, “sweating himself to death?” she helped.

That wasn’t exactly what I was looking for but it would do. “Precisely.”

She turned her attention to me, “and what about –” Any question Miriam was about to ask was lost in the valley of her throat. Her pencil clattered to the floor and the pad trembled violently within her slight fingers.

“I’m not hungry.” I had the urge to add, ‘yet’ but the poor girl was frightened enough as it was. I seem to have that effect on people. They were either drawn to me or terrified by my angelic face. Ha! Usually it was a combination of both. Silly humans.

She bent over to pick the pencil off the floor and I could smell the sweet, sharp scent of blood coursing through her veins. Before I knew it she was rushing back in the direction from which she came. I smiled bitterly.

“So Mr. Harris Bruckheimer –” I stressed the Mr. for good measure. “You have much news for me do you not?”

He gulped loudly, “Yes I do.”

“Well spit it out then,” I already knew what the news was; however, I wanted to hear it from his lips. He was going to tell me that everything was wonderful when in fact he was beginning to suction my funds into his accounts. “I happen to be a very busy woman and I have very little time to spare. Speak.”

“Well – well…” He began.

“Let me help you.” I finally said. “You tried to have me killed Mr. B.” I lifted the steak knife from its napkin and moved it through the air. He jumped from the chair but I grabbed his hand and brought him back down. “Please don’t make a scene. I can snuff your life out so quickly that no one here will notice. Or I can make it very messy.” I lifted the stainless steel fork, careful to use the napkin because you never know. “Imagine what would happen if I thrust this in your throat?” He looked as though he was ready to begin weeping but instead urinated on himself. I smelled it as though it was burning through my throat.

“I’m a weak man.” He cried. “I don’t know what I was doing.”

“You were being greedy. I have made you a very rich man but you think that just because I look like a child that you can steal from me, that I’m stupid or gullible? I can assure you my dear man that I am not.”

“No you are not.” He agreed.

My phone rang and Ben gave me the name of an accountant who would serve me well. “Thank you.” I told him sincerely because he had called me while on vacation.

“Don’t mention it. Settling in yet?”

“Soon.”

“You’re fired.” I told Harry after I hung up. He brought a thin hand to his neck and gasped for air. “You really think I would keep you on after your little stunt? Count yourself lucky because you are still breathing.” For how long though I was not so sure. I got up and began walking away.

“Wait.” He called to my departing back. I stopped but did not turn around. There were more eyes on me now because Harry was causing a scene. “What do I do now?”

“Find a very deep hole and bury your self.”

My valet was extremely pleased with his tip, plus he has gotten to handle my ride. I smiled at him and he was nice enough to open the door and close it behind me. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“Legolas.”

“Like the book?”

“The same.”

Harry was walking out of the restaurant when I drove away. I heard that he died that evening in his sleep. The doctors were baffled because he had seemed to be a very healthy man. Poor, poor Harry.

2 comments:

keed said...

hmm found you again lurking in the dark recesses of this our consensual hallucination.

LadyVamp said...

You are a god Bill