Immortality is Relative – Part 2: The Mixing

Immortality is Relative – Part 2: The Mixing

My name is Ian-Flannery McKern, and like all of my kind, I am a pawn to the Gathering. However, I am no ordinary pawn, for I play another game. I am the immortal vampire-hunter; he who slays the vermin feeding on the innocence of this tiny world, with the sword Alkranon – “Death Again” in some forgotten language of the immortals before us. This is one of my stories.

On one of the most beautiful days in Rome, early in the 14 century, I was wandering the streets of the fair city, sword on my back. I had spent some time in Italy seeking out my prey, but as I discovered I had stayed too long. When I stay too long I begin to get noticed. Not by local authorities or any officials of the mortals, but by the clan leaders of the vampires, and because Italy seemed to be a breeding ground for these vermin, I stayed long enough to draw attention.

With very little food, I sought out a place to eat. Hunger is one of the many discomforts that my kind must endure, but at a higher risk than mortals, for if we do not feed, we starve eternally. A small cafe’ on the street caught my eye, after which I checked my purse and proceeded to sit.

After I ordered some bread, cheese and wine, I pondered at the beauty of the day, but no matter how beautiful something is, there is always the darkness lying somewhere, awaiting the right time to reveal itself. I should have remembered this.

My eyes wandered to a far table where sat a lone figure, a stunning lone woman with black silky hair and green hypnotic eyes. My heart leaped in excitement as my gaze was met with a smile. I knew a little Italian, so I approached her after my order had arrived.

Her voice was just as enchanting as her eyes. Her body was covered in a silky garment appropriate for the time. She invited me to her home for more wine, and a good Scotts gentleman never declines an offer like that. However, something made my inner senses shiver, a cold shutter ran through my spine. However, with my guard down with the prospect of sharing wine with this lady and possibly something more, I followed her ignoring the feelings for the first and last time.

The house was in the bellows of town, far from the square. What I didn’t notice is that it was far from any church. I was blind with the effects of wine and the heat of passion that was brewing inside me. This woman was building a fire in me that could engulf the sun. She drew me into her home with a sultry stare. The sudden lack of sun light in the house took a moment to get used to. When the blindness subsided, she was no where in sight. I just about sobered up when I heard her voice in an adjoining room. Stairs were in front of me, presumably leading to a place I hoped to be soon – her bedroom. To the left was the direction of the voice. Like a siren, she beckoned me and liked a doomed sailor, I followed.

She stood in the shadows, near a table where she was pouring more wine. She asked me to sit on some pillows against the wall. When she stepped out of the shadows, I realized she has changed. No longer was she wearing the unflattering rags she wore before, but satiny robes of see-through black silk. My passion could not be held back. As she sat, I assaulted her with that passion. I don’t know what fueled it. The wine? Her sent? She responded with stronger, more powerful lust. I was not ready for the force of her want. She licked up and down my face, neck and chest, her breath cooling my burning skin. Her desire grew faster, and more powerful. She was beyond by control when she mounted me.

Finally, I saw her eyes… red aglow with the hunger, a savage hunger that I seek to destroy. However, she did not impale me with her fangs that were already protruding as she hissed. I was not a common victim. She was my assassin.

She miraculously produced a blade of some Middle Eastern-make and held it to above her head. With me still inside her, she swung the blade down towards my neck. I instinctively swung my arms up to block.

The pain was dizzying. It sank about a quarter of an inch into my forearm bone. I screamed as I pushed back against it and threw her off of me. I immediately dove off the pile of pillows, and toward the last place I remembered leaving Alkranon. It was gone.

Arms drenched in blood, I stood to face the hell-whore. So many emotions were swirling through my head as I tried to retrace the last few moments while at the same time watch the bitch for any quick movement.

She must have hidden Alkranon or had help, while I was lost in foolish sexual desire. My alternatives were slim. She then lunged at me. She must have not been aware of the pillows, because she tripped in front me. She recovered quickly, but not quick enough to recover the sword. The blade went tumbling towards the stairs.

We faced each other again, she hissing some heathen curses.

“They told me to take your head to kill you, and not told touch you cursed blood. However, I am at a loss, so I must resort to my instinct.I may not take your Quickening like your kind do, but I will feed on your blood… the sweet taste of an Immortal’s blood. I true delicacy amongst my kind.”

She flew at me with incredible speed. I had little time to react before her fangs had penetrated my neck. Fear and frustration flowed through my veins, sweetening her feed even more. My worst nightmare was forming into reality. Of course I contemplated the possibility; a mixture of vampire and Immortal blood. What would come of it? I soon was to find out whether I wanted to or not.

She clung to me like a animal chewing at its prey, sucking and slurping obscenely. I regained some leverage and threw her off toward the far corner; towards a familiar iridescent light in the far corner. She had moved Alkranon there, far from my reach, but not far from my throw. She landed on the sword, the blade protruding from between her perfect breasts, her blood absorbing into the blade.

I then collapsed. Her virus was taking a strong effect. Despite the fact that she was dead, I was still feeling the clammy attack of the vampiric venom pulsing through my veins. I felt the strong shadow of unconsciousness approach, but it never reached.

Something kept me awake, aware of the pain, and the agony. My immortality would not allow this invasion, but it did not go without a struggle. It felt as if hundreds of daggers were inserted into me and pulled out from the other side, over and over again. It took a full day to finally cleanse my veins, and in that time, I stayed and watched in blurred vision, the vampire assassin seductress decay away.

Beauty is not always what it seems and immortality is relative… my two laws of life.