Cognata: A Vampire Romance (11 page)

The thought that disturbed me the most, was that Sergio would watch me drown. As I started to fade away to the other side, I kept thinking just how alone I am and how alone I had always been. The thought was killing me. I could not stand to think of it. This was the moment he decided to reach out and pull me up. I hacked and coughed up a great deal of water, desperately trying to catch my breath as the acidic feeling slowly evaporated from my upper body, but my lower body was still submerged. I was still in very deep pain.

"Let me out!" I shouted at Sergio who was trying to hold me still and calm me down.

"You are only making it worse!" He raised his tone in an attempt to soothe me, but I was wild and emotional. I did not want to hear his words. I wanted him to get me out.

"Listen to me!" He demanded coldly, "Focus! Concentrate on the water. Feel it course through your body like it did when you were a creature of mere flesh. Know that the water cannot harm you. You alone are allowing it and you have the power to stop it!"

"What?!" I couldn't believe he was trying to give me a lesson while my flesh was rending from my bones, "Please! Get me... "

"Shut up!" He stopped me. "Concentrate!"

I was in no position to battle with him. I was already weakened from the fall and Sergio was keeping me locked in place. Tears streamed down my face, mixed with pure, unfiltered hate - hate for the life I was cursed in. I focused that energy toward the water - painting a picture in my mind where the water could not harm me. I saw myself enjoying it again. Unafraid but focused and clear.

"Concentrate... " He whispered, "Know the water is your ally. Not your foe."

With eyes shut, I blocked everything out. I went into a deep, meditative state and then, all was clear. The unspeakable agony that tormented me was gone. I slowly reopened my eyes to see Sergio hadn't let go of me. He was waiting to see the results.

"Do you feel pain?" He asked

"No." I neutrally stated, staring dead into his eyes.

A quick thought crossed my mind, whether my legs had been burned off and that started getting the better of me.

I immediately felt the fire rising against my thighs so I brushed the stupid insecurity off quickly. I could feel my regeneration working, slowly healing and mending my tattered flesh. I knew I would be fine. Water would not stop me. Not today.

"Now, can we go?" I tilted my head like a snob that proved her abilities

"Do you know what you just did?" He asked with pleasant eyes, the likes of which I hadn't dreamed this raggedy man would dare show.

"I used my dark gifts, yes."

"Not only that... this is more, little nightwalker. Much, much, more... "

"I'm failing to understand your excitement."

"You managed to grasp a power that does not belong to your bloodline. This is very rare."

"What bloodline? And how are we so sure that the moment I walk out, we won't see nothing but bones for my legs?"

"Well, let us see." Sergio led the way to the cave. I eagerly followed.

Each step, the water gradually fell below my waist and beyond my thighs and soon, we'd see that my flesh was not just fine but it was renewed; younger and even repaired. I knew that was from my regeneration process but still, it was truly amazing to see I'd adapted to the water. Something my predecessor did not teach me. As much as I wanted to rip Sergio's head off, I was way too overjoyed that I hadn't disfigured my beautiful skin. Yes, I was vain. I was feeling and touching myself to make sure I was fine.

"See? Not all Nightwalkers can inherit gifts from other bloodlines. You clearly are of your own."

"Bloodlines?" I diverted my attention to the wolf man, "You keep speaking of these bloodlines. What other bloodlines?"

Sergio smirked, waving his hand down the dark entrance.

"All the answers are in there."

I rushed in but he quickly stopped me by the shoulder, "Nightwalker, ask yourself if you really wish to go in there."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Once you go in there, there's no going back... "

I chewed on his words carefully. If I were to die, that would not scare me. Yet I know now, as I knew then, that there are fates far worse than death...

Interlude V

Samuel Speaks, 2017

Days went by since Alexia told me about her impending death. I'd been reading bits of her journal here and there. Mostly just been spending time with her. You know - enjoying the last days. We've grown a lot closer. Kind of expected. Not because death's a few days away, it's because it's one of those rare things that come once a thousand lifetimes. Sounds poetic, I'm sure; but it's true. I think a lot of people like to thrive on the idea that they know what love is and some of them do, but most don't. Most like to think they love someone; maybe it's for power, status, some dumbass college, master or doctoral certificate or they just look good. Heck, it can even go into personality.

'Oh, she's just the right one for me! She does everything I need!'

I don't think that's what love is. I think love is a fundamental acceptance of knowing you're on your own path, accepting another walking alongside, hand in hand on their own. This is what I get with Alexia. There are times she's noble, sweet and kind, other times she can be cold and distant, sometimes fiery and bitchy. I find myself wanting every part of it, loving the core, the real thing that makes her tick.

I can care less how old she is or what her skin color is. I don't care if these stories are true or not and I don't care if she's hearing me think out loud right now. Just know one thing. If this is to be our last bit of time together, then know that I'm enjoying it and there's nowhere else I'd rather be than right here with you.

Naked Alexia lays head down on my lap while I kick back, feet stretched, head tilted to the roof, with a puff of cigarette smoke rising in the air - celebrating a good night's lay. We sit there chilling, some grunge-prog music playing in the background. Her head's moving to the tune.

"What's the point?" I say the first thing that slips out of my blank mind. She doesn't respond. She just waits - "What's the point of telling any zombie the truth? This world's the way it is because they make it that way. Even if I write a biography about you, what difference would it make to the deaf ear?"

"What difference does it make to you?" I can tell she's probably smiling with her eyes closed as she says this. I drop my head forward, looking down at her. I was right. She's smirking as she coils on my lap.

"I like knowing how things work. I couldn't care less if it breaks my insecure little bubble."

This makes her open those shimmering eyes. She looks at me and laughs. Few days ago I'd feel a bit insecure. Probably try to brush it off, make a joke, get all anxious or something. Now I'm just sitting here staring at her with a blank, expressionless face. I once held fear for this woman. Now, I don't care.

"Did I say something funny?" My tone's a little more serious.

"You take yourself too seriously." I feel her fingers curling along my forearm, reaching up and pulling down so she can get a smoke too.

I take myself too seriously?

"The truth always stands the test of time... " She blows the smoke up in the air, making a kind of heart shaped love puff - "You need not concern yourself with the immature."

"Am I not writing for them?" My eyes trot off hers, staring blankly as I think about the things this woman's telling me.

"No." She says, "You're writing for us all, yourself included."

"I don't get it." I admit. I hold my palm over her face, blinding her vision playfully, "Are you trying to seduce my petty little human mind to your will, Halona?"

She's off giggling again. I move my hand away, greeting her with a playful smile.

"Was that your plan all along?" I continue teasing.

"Yes!" She plays along, "I want to bend you to my will. You will go out and make pedestals of me. You will make me your icon. Your night and day."

"Sounds obsessive." Coy comment slips my tongue.

"Oh?" She turns to me with puppy dog eyes. "Is my magic not working?"

I shake my head.

"Looks like it ain't."

"For shame. I always thought it'd be so easy to bend you." That deviant grin shows that hint of past darkness she carries with her.
I know she's teasing but damn, that's still hot.

"You are bad." My eyebrows shoot up and a faint smile erupts on my lips, "You are really bad, you know that?"

"Maybe... " Her coy giggling continues while I find myself smiling. I think now's a good time to continue the journal. We could read it together. I look around a couple times, wondering where I put the damn thing. It's over on the other couch. I really don't want to get up.

"Little help?" I look at her then point my eyes to the book, mentally asking her for some assistance. She catches my drift. Her hand extends to the journal as if she were calling it forward with her mind and, what do you know - the book comes flying into her hand. She opens the journal, flipping through some pages and asking me - "Where did you leave off?"

"Sergio was taking you into the cave."

"Ah, yes... Sergio." She grins as the pages of the journal rapidly flutter by, as if she's browsing it with her mind, towards the part that I mentioned. "What do you think of him?"

"He's a bit of a dick. Also, is he a lycan? I had no idea those things existed."

"They probably do."

That's a weird response. I kind of expected her to tell me if he is or not
- "So, is he?"

"Of course not. Sergio is a Cognatus of another bloodline. I descended from the Halonic lineage. He descended from the Hunter lineage. Their line always consisted of shapeshifters."

"That is... really cool."

She smiles and looks at me, ready to read her own journal out loud - "Are you ready to continue?"

I smile right back at her and nod.

I'm ready, let's head into the next chapter.

Ouroboros

Alexia's Journal,

June 17th 1932

Dark, misty, wet and cold - that's how I remember that old cavern. I was uncomfortable and deep inside, I felt whiny. Still, I knew I had to be there. Sergio never seemed afflicted by anything. He kept his sight fixed on his destination; a destination that I hadn't a clue about at that point. The darkness unveiled itself once my eyes adapted to its shade - a common trait of my kind: night vision. I thought to myself,
'just how deep does this cavern run?'
It was unbelievable how long we walked through it. I wondered if it'd ever end.

The deeper we ventured into what I thought was nothing more than nature's work, the more I eventually realized I was bested by my ignorance. For the deeper we went, I recognized that this was no mere formation of mother earth. This cavern was the entrance to an ancient crypt.

"What is this place?" I asked my guide, feeling the walls with my fingers, looking around the jagged rock formations being replaced by artificial ones the further we ventured in. Structures clearly built by the hands of man.

"Ouroboros: The Ancient's Burial." Sergio dipped his hand in the puddles of water that seeped from the cracks of the rocks around us. Light came to the water; a light cyan bioluminescence replaced the need for night vision. There was a large chamber built in the stone and through it, connected rooms filled with individual tombs. The walls were covered with ancient carvings - glyphs of some kind. I did not understand it.

"What do these say?" I trailed my fingers on the glyphs as if I could read them myself, concentrating tirelessly to figure them out.

"History. History of our people." Sergio came to my side, studying the glyphs as well

"Do you understand it?" I looked at him

"Some of it." He kept his eyes on the wall. There were inscriptions of all sorts, expertly crafted and well painted. You could tell whoever designed the place, did it with great reverence and great respect. It was meticulous and refined. There were depictions of that which I thought to be my kindred, marked from the 'blood down their lips'. They came to this place long ago and from what I could make out, they ended their lives here in some sort of ritual sacrifice to seemingly end the madness of their curse.

But why?
I wondered. What would drive them to take their own lives? As terrible as the dark gift is, I cannot confess it is worth suicide. I might have had my own suicidal tendencies, but they weren't completely structured on my curse.

"Many years after the death of Halona, our kindred became restless, tormented and depraved." Sergio moved deeper into the chamber, expecting me to perhaps follow along and so I did, leaving behind my previous mediocrities.

"The leadership could not be maintained. Halona had done far more than we understood at the time." He brushed away some dust from another depiction. It was there I saw another piece of the puzzle. The astounding devotion to the woman on the wall was none other than Halona herself, painted in pure white - like light. Around her stood five creatures, few of them looked pure humanoid and then there were others, like a four-legged animal and a winged creature that the ignorant would easily classify as demons. It started coming to me, even before Sergio had the time to explain it - these were undoubtedly the fabled 'bloodlines'. Each one descended from their maker.

"Halona's gift changed upon the original ancients. Some were turned into more... vile creatures, so to speak. Others kept their physical beauty and some of their beauty was even improved by the gift though I cannot say their insides matched their outside's allure. The gift of Halona became separated and the bloodlines mutated into their own cause; adapting to their own paths. This was the great separation of our kindred."

What was I to think of this? Now the pieces began connecting and suddenly I, the once unable, ignorant, royal child began realizing my piece on the chessboard. At least, what they wanted me to be in those troubled times. Halona was once a figure of balance to the Cognati, and as she slipped away, the order seemingly lost themselves in madness - and now, they see a shade of her. A possible chip to toss on board once more.