Death's Family

A new turn on the Vampire coming to sweep you away.

      “The girl lay silently in her bed. The smell of sweat was on the air. Below the smell of sweat was the soft smell of cats. She realized that Morgana, her cat, was on her feet, even before she had opened her eyes. The curtains were open and it was still early. It’s maybe twelve her mental clock told her. She opened her eyes and looked at her digital clock. Dead on, twelve o’clock on the dot she was always right when it came to daylight. She had always been good at telling time by the sun’s positioning. It was probably because she had always hated daylight, and even as a kid had learned to connect each hour to each sun positioning and that to how many hours till sundown. She had been a strange child, and now she was a strange teenager.

What day was it she wondered, and then she remembered it was her birthday. She was sixteen today, yesterday had been her last day of school. Yes! Summer vacation was here; no more a*s-hole teachers staring at her like she was some sort of space mutant. Summer was the best time of year.

 She got up (knocking Morgana off the bed to stalk off indignantly) and pulled the curtains closed. She went to the dresser and looked in her mirror. Damn she looked terrible, she had slept with all her make-up on and she now had big black streaks on her face from rubbing it in her sleep. She stripped and walked into her bathroom. She grabbed her hairbrush and jumped in the shower. She turned the water on and let it hit her smack in the face; she watched the darkened water run down her breasts. Her lips split into a smile, her eyes open to the flood of water. She ran her brush through her long black hair. When she was done she quickly dried her hair and dressed. The usual outfit, her black fishnet shirt over her sports bra, her black pants, the ones with the plaid X straps on the back, she put her hair in a pony tail and slipped on her dog collar. She put her make up on, eyeliner, lipstick, mascara, eye shadow, all black. Once she was ready she walked downstairs. Her mom was in the living room with her little brother.

“Katina!” she heard her little brother call.

“I’m coming, I’m right here, you don’t have to scream.” As she walked in her little brother made the sign of the cross with his fingers.

“Get thee behind me Satan!” He screamed. Katina did a finger sign of her own but it wasn’t as polite.

“What do you want Drake?” she directed this question towards Drake but her eyes were on her mom.       

She was eating a bowl of cereal, and nodding to the program she was watching. She was so utterly devoid of style or taste, she was just so normal. It was terrifying how Christian she was. She had been divorced for seven years now and it seemed she hadn’t had sex once.

Katina’s father had been abusive to her and to Katina as well. They didn’t know whether he had done anything to Drake, cause Drake was very secretive. He was 14 this year and still acted as if he was six and he was almost as obsessed with “GOD” as mom.

“Katina, mom said that the reason you are like this is because dad was Satan, is that true?” She almost laughed even though she was pissed, because he was so ignorant of the world outside.

“Oh no, dad wasn’t Satan. But the real Satan does creep into my room every night and make me cut my arms, and sign my name in blood to rolls of paper.” She pulled up her fishnet sleeve and showed him her cutting marks, laughing all the time.  Her mom let out a gasp, as Drake went wide eyed.

“That is a sin, you know it girl, you are going to burn in hell with your father.” Katina simply laughed.

 “Well at least I’ll be able to kick his a*s in hell.” She turned around and walked out the door.

 

     She walked about two miles; it was her daily routine. She walked up to the park and sat down on the swing-set just thinking. A passer-by would have thought it strange the way she sat completely still, and if that passer-by had stayed nine hours he would have seen her stay in the same spot the whole time.

That passer-by of course wouldn’t understand what was happening in her head, that in fact she wasn't on the swing-set at all, let alone in the state. She was standing in a river watching the clouds and the sun move until finally it set. No one would understand that in this world no one could touch her, it was the same world she had went to when her father had molested her all those years ago. Every one in the neighborhood thought she was insane. She was just a bit weird, and it seemed that she was destined to be the “cat lady” or maybe the one with the grocery cart. She had never had a boyfriend and she was a complete outcast at school. She read a lot of books and loved vampires, ghosts, werewolves, monsters, etc. She liked to write as well and was able to make amazing stories with very little inspiration.

She sat there watching the few wisps of clouds drift over the moon. She almost laughed at the way the cloud covered the moon halfway for a moment and the light was shining through the trees who hadn’t got their leaves back yet, it looked like something from revenge of the werewolf or some other old monster movie. She suddenly wished she had a campfire. She had always loved campfires, and the night air was starting to bite through her fishnet.

 She had just started to stand up when she was startled by a noise from in front of her. It was just a soft snap like a twig breaking or something. She stood there turning around in a circle every few seconds for several minutes. She finally realized it must have been a stray cat or something.

“Get a hold of yourself Katina your starting to get paranoid.” She said to herself out loud, thinking about how insane she would look if some one were to see her. At this thought a voice came from the same nowhere that the twig had broken.

“Actually you don’t look insane at all, you are acting it though. Imagine getting all worked up over a broken twig. Tsk, Tsk I am not impressed. Now I am going to step out of these trees here and if you don’t scream you might live an extra minute, Okay?” At this point Katina had all but fainted staring at the place were the voice was coming from. The voice itself had a resounding quality like some one talking into a canyon. But the voice was nothing compared to the man that stepped out of the trees.

 

     She did manage not to scream, though with extreme difficulty. The thing that stepped out of the trees was simultaneously the most gorgeous, the most terrifying, the most beautiful, the most deathly awesome, thing she had ever seen. He had hair as black as the sky and like the sky it shone with points of reflected light that almost made it look like it was on fire. His face was angular, with a slightly pointy chin with two small trails of hair leading up to his top lip were they terminated before actually touching. He had extremely prominent cheek and jawbones, as well as a high forehead, but not enough so to cause it to look strange. His skin was deathly pale but in the moonlight it almost gleamed with light. His nose was large but not overly so just enough to be recognizably Italian. His lips were thin yet not cruel, they seemed to be the kind of lips made for a smirk, rather than a full toothed smile. But it was his eyes that stood out for Katina; they were the kind of eyes that if they glared at you, you immediately did as you were directed. They shone in the light, the color was silver now in the moonlight but as he stepped closer she realized they were turquoise, a sort of dark green with blue tints that seemed to flash as they looked at her. His body was hidden beneath a simple black trench coat, the leather catching the moonlight in its folds and creases. He wasn’t very tall but impressive in stature, maybe 6’2” a slim build accented by a long pale neck.

How beautiful he is, she thought silently to herself. He walked closer; slowly circling her, when he was behind her he undid her ponytail and let her hair cascade down her back. He put his face into her hair and drew in a deep breath; she had a feeling that he was grinning. He put his face up to her neck and sucked in another breath. She shuddered, how she wanted for him to touch her, to kiss her, they belonged together, he was so beautiful.

“I know I’m beautiful and hungry, you’re beautiful too,” Her mind disagreed, but before she could speak he snaked his tongue out and licked her neck, her body shuddering, “and delicious. But will I use you to satiate my hunger, or to just kill you in another way, or maybe just knock you unconscious and leave you on a park bench to wake up and believe you are insane till your dying day, all fun ideas, oh, such a decision.”

She wanted him, at the same time she was disgusted with herself at the very notion. How could she think about such a thing, better to run, better to flee, but she could not, she remained grounded, in this man’s embrace, shuddering to her very soul, wanting him as much as ever.

“ Oh yes, and I want you to, but in a different way, I could have you in the way you think of, but it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying, for me at least. But I like your mind, so maybe I’ll keep you alive a little longer, maybe for eternity. I’m not sure but I’ll have a taste now and get back to you tomorrow night.” At this his lips pressed against her neck, and she felt a prick then a pull as if someone had a hold of her veins and was pulling on them. Yet it was a delicious feeling, then all was blackness.

 

     By the time she awoke it was maybe four in the afternoon and she was back in her bedroom. She sat up quickly, confused. Had it all been a dream? Had she really been attacked by a vampire? It wasn’t possible, yet…she felt her neck, yes, there were the marks, erotically tender to her touch. She sat there thinking. What now? What should she do? What could she do?

Out loud she said the words, “I haven’t got a clue.” As though explaining her thoughts to the only other being in the room, which happened to be her cat Morgana, who just looked at her with that ”Frankly, I don’t give a damn.” look, that was her trademark.

 Finally she arose and took her shower and got dressed, her black shirt, her leather jacket, and tight leather pants, and then her makeup and walked down stairs.

When she got down stairs, her mother and brother were not there. There was no one in the living room either. She looked outside and the car was still in the driveway. She started to worry, they never went out of the house without leaving a note or something, and the car was still here. She started to search the house; first she combed the living room and then the dinning room. She finally went upstairs to check their rooms.

When she got to the door of her mother’s room she started to feel a certain foreboding. She opened the door and saw her fear had been justified. Her mother lay on the bed, her arms outstretched, her legs crossed, ankles in crucifixion form. Her wrists were slit but only a small amount of blood had trickled onto the sheets. Her eyes were open as if in those final moments she had glimpsed some vision, of heaven or of hell, and it had scared the s**t out of her. Katina noticed she was nude, and that her hair had been brushed and was starting to curl. She was dead and strangely enough she had never looked better. Her hair’s dirty blond color was lighter than usual without being in the tight bun and it set off her newly pale skin. Her breasts were firm with her bodies stiffening, and her n*****s still had a rosy tint to them even in this last resting place.

Katina started crying staring at her, in all the hatred she had for her mother deep down she had still loved her. She stood up remembering Drake. She went to his room and as soon as she opened the door she knew what she would find. Her brother was sat on his knees, his head tucked in his arms, and he was also nude. One side of his neck was plastered with blood. Strangely enough his face looked happy. He was still alive though. His breathing was shallow and she dared not move him. None of his wounds looked life threatening so she didn’t see the need to wake him.

Katina sat down next to his bed and cried. She may have hated her mother but she had always loved her brother. He was so young, and so smart, so much potential. It was her fault, she had allowed this man to hurt him, and she would never forgive herself if he died.

 She didn’t know how long she cried before she finally passed out but when she awoke it was night. The sun had set and the stars and moon were bright and the sky was clear. Her brother was still asleep, but in the corner stood the man from the park.

He stood there silhouetted in the window. He was facing her and from what she could see of his face he was grinning. His teeth fairly gleamed, and it seemed his canines were sharper then they should have been. She stared at him, hoping that this didn’t mean what it signaled.

“He didn’t fight you know.” She sat up, his comment striking her hard.

“Oh? So he just let you strip him and set him up like this, huh?”

He laughed.

“Yes, he wanted me too. He will live. I like him. I’ll take you both together.” She stared at him, angry and terrified, not wanting to acknowledge what he was saying about her brother.

“So you’re not going to kill me?” Her voice was steadier then her mind. She couldn’t stop thinking about her mother saying that she was going to burn in hell. Is that were she was going now, to hell? Or maybe just to wander the earth for eternity in the form of a ghost?

“Oh no, not really. You will die now but only physically. You will live forever from that moment on.” She gaped at him her mind incomprehensive, and then it hit her.

“You are going to make me like you.” She said, comprehension sinking in faster than understanding. A vampire? Did she really want it? He laughed joyously.

 “Dead on, I always knew you were intelligent.” She was scared not knowing what came next.

“This will hurt, a lot, I promise.” He walked to her and she froze unable to look away. He leaned into her neck and drew in that shuddering breath, and she felt the sting of his teeth piercing her skin. Again the drawing feeling as though someone was yanking on her veins then a feeling as though she was falling. But this time it was more violent, at that point she was yanked back, and it felt like every hair on her body was pulled out by the roots. He kept pulling though, as though he were trying to make her hollow. She felt tears fall down her face as his nails bit into her shoulder and his fingers tangled in her hair. He finally let her go and she swooned, falling to the floor.

 She watched him, and in these moments before death, he seemed all the angel, come to bare her away to whatever lay beyond. She saw him bite his wrist, she tried to scream, how could he, such a beautiful creature, hurt himself? She seemed to feel his pain coupled with her own but she couldn't move to stop him. He took his wrist and put it over her mouth. He whispered, “drink” but she had already latched onto the flow. What an amazing sensation, like a virgin's idea of sex. Her head filled with images, a boy with a wooden sword, than a teenager with his first rapier, then a young man with a broad sword keeping a woman at bay. She was coming after him, when the images switched she was latched to his neck and the broad sword had been cast aside, then him latched to her wrist. She heard a sobbing voice call his name, Morte!  Then she realized it was her own.

She was lying on the floor, staring up at him. Hours had past, she was sure. He was smiling, a happy smile as if his dream had come true. She smiled back through the pain that racked her form. She glanced around, the colors were exuberent and it was like the world was seen in a new demension. She took a breath and the smells of the place invaded her nostrils. She smelled blood, and death, and wood, and glass, and plastic, and everything. Morte reached down and pulled her up as if she were weightless. He smiled down at her.

“Welcome to my world Katina.”

 

   She stood there not knowing what to do, or what to think. She looked at him and he smiled.

“So how do you feel?” she looked at him and smiled

“Sick!” and she rushed to the upstairs bathroom and vomited over and over into the toilet. The only thing in her stomach was blood so the only thing she brought up was blood. He watched her, laughing, he seemed to think this the most humorous thing in the world. Again and again her stomach was purged until finally her stomach was empty and she just sat there staring at the crimson pool that filled the toilet. Morte turned on the bath and told her to strip. She did as told because she wanted to know how the water would feel on her cold skin. She lay down in the tub and almost immediately the pain started again with full force. Her bowls wrenched and she screamed. Morte became sweet, motherly.

“Its okay Piccolo Una you will be fine, its almost finished. Its almost through, you will be okay. One moment, I must fetch your brother, he will be waking soon." Her brain let that sink in but she couldn’t react. She just lay there wallowing in pain and feces. He returned soon with Drake. Drake went to the toilet and began retching as she had. She laughed at that though she honestly didn't know why. The man turned to her, and again became the mother. Finally when the pain was at its peak he again cut his wrist and instructed her to drink. No more memories only the sunlit sky with big puffy clouds. The pain subsided quickly, and he took his wrist away. She stood up and turned on the overhead shower. She stood letting the water wash all the impurities away. Finally she turned the water off and stood there in front of him, nude, nude and clean.

“Assolute bellezza, absolute beauty that is you, it fits, come now you must get dressed now that the finale morte is finished.” She laughed as she stepped out. He ran the water again and put Drake in the tub. She watched as Drake felt the pain she had felt.

     “Morte? That’s your name, it’s Italian for death, correct?” he stopped, starring at her almost dazed like as if a memory had suddenly swam into his mind.

    “Yes that’s right, I had strange parents.” She just laughed, she felt stoned, as if she had smoked a blunt then spun around a lot. He watched her and laughed too. She watched Drake in the tub and again saw Morte cut his wrist and feed him. She saw the sexuality between them and an idea pricked in her head but she pushed it back. As Drake got out of the tub she went to her room and dressed. She dressed in her best outfit, a tight black skirt slit up her thigh, and a black silk tube top. She brushed her hair and looked in the mirror. Morte came into the room.

     “There my Bella you are perfect.” She smiled at him, happy, she thought about her mother and right then she was so happy she didn’t care. She was perfection, finally and she was never going to be a mistake again. She was the best right now and no one could ever change that, because she was the queen now. He looked at her.

    “Can I ask you just one question Morte?” She said shyly, not sure how much trust there was between them.

    “Of course my bella, whatever you wish. I am at your service.” He bowed to her with a sweep of his tacky cliché cape and a smile with glinting fangs.

    “Who made you? When you changed me I saw a beautiful woman, will you tell me of her?” Morte looked at her with a troubled expression, then he nodded, more to himself it seemed then her.

    “It was over two millenia’s past, my dear. I was the son of an Italian royal. We where distantly related to all the Italian monarchy of the time and we carried our name proudly. We were not Italians then but Romans, some of the first to speak the language that is now Italian. I am distantly related to caesar you know? One of them at least.” He whispered this last with a smile. Then continued on with his tale. Drake joined them in the room as he spoke. “Yet we were not rich, no not by a long shot. We lived in near squalor while our own blood feasted on gilded plates. We ruled over a small village on one of the islands off the coast of Italy. Well when I was nineteen an heiress came to stay with us, a beautiful woman from the mainland. She was apparently a few years younger than me and her family was very rich. They sent her to stay with us because her parents had died and the rest of her family seemed to want to kill her. Or that’s what she told us. Her name was Analainia and as soon as she arrived my parents began to push us together. I was the defender of my family and immediately saw her as a threat, but my fears were dismissed. Until one night she came to me. She attached me in the dead of night, waking me from a solid sleep so I didn’t even have the strength to defend myself once I found my sword. As soon as she changed me I promptly killed her. I had to learn the ways of the vampire alone. It was two hundred years before I finally found a mentor. But that would be another story. It is time for you to rest my beloveds. The sun has nearly risen.” He began ushering them out of the room towards the basement. He went upstairs for a moment to check on things and as he walked up the stairs he turned back to Katina, 

    “You are going to be my queen forever, piccolo signorina. And your brother will be with us.” She looked at him and smiled hoping it was true but knowing that it couldn’t last. Could it? She stared at Drake beside her as Morte walked up the stairs. Drake watched Morte walk up the stairs as she watched him. He looked amazing in his best clothes, his hair brushed back and his skin shining pale.After Morte had gotten out of earshot he ran up to her with a smile.

“So this is that devil you told me about?” He asked with a smile. “I think he is very beautiful.” Katina stared at him, wondering again if Drake was gay. He looked at her and hearing the thought nodded his assention. This was going to be her life? “It’s okay Katina, everything is going to be perfect.” He hugged her and she hugged him back, hoping he was right. She knew that it didn’t matter now, she had found her home. Now she belonged.