Eternity

My shoulders hunched as I walked down the shadowy sidewalk, the only light emanating from a street lamp off in the foreground and the stars and moon above. I kept my eyes fixed unwaveringly before me, for if I looked to the right or left, noticed anyone at all to distract my attentions- weaken them- I was certain I would lose my precarious control.

My throat was dry, so devoid of liquid that something inside me rasped with each deliberate breath I took. It was an effort to keep moving, keep placing one foot in front of another; my head throbbed in rhythm with each step. I was so weak; still I kept on determinedly, for I would not- could not- allow myself to falter.

Afton’s voice, an ever constant in my mind, spoke up, taunting, spiteful, the pleasure evident in her tone.

(Oh, you’re such a moral, moral THING, Dante… but you may as well give up, for you will never have the capacity to maintain a soul. You will never be able to regain what I have taken from you- your humanity…)

I pressed my lips together, lowering my head and speeding up my stride, as if I could run from Afton, as if she could not so easily return to my thoughts- as if we were not bound by mind as well as blood.

(You cannot be what you were, Dante) she sneered. Why torture yourself by trying when it is so much easier to give in?)

But I could not give in… for this was not who- not what- I wanted to be…

I was 27 when Afton changed me- which is, I suppose, at least a fairly ideal age to stay for all eternity. Better to be old enough to care for myself adequately than be forced to remain a child or adolescent- or at least outwardly. And yet I was still fairly young in appearance. This is, in my view, at least nearly the only part of my immortality that I can view as an upside.

I’ve had time to get used to the idea of being a vampire- hell, I’ve had nearly a century- but never will I grow to accept it. Eternity stretches before me so bleakly at times, an endless, constant battle against my own loathed instincts- instincts that after a century I still just barely can control.

One of the hardest things for me to get used to when I first changed- beyond the discovery that vampires existed at all- were that all the vampire myths you always hear as a kid were nothing more than that- myths. One would think that the existence of vampires would give everything you hear about them credibility, but that isn’t true. For instance, I cannot turn into a bat, or any other creature, for that matter. The sunlight has no effect on me, although I do prefer the night, merely because there are fewer humans around to tempt my control. I am also unaffected by garlic and crosses- and if you think about it, why would garlic be sufficient to incacipate a dead person? I admit it smells unpleasantly strong, for my senses are magnified much more than that of a human’s, but it is hardly enough to cause me agony. And I do cast reflections in mirrors- even dead bodies are subject to the laws of nature in some ways.

What has changed is the rapid defenses and invulnerabilities of my body. As my body is no longer quite living, I no longer need to eat, sleep, breathe, or perform any human bodily function, although I can do so if I choose to. My senses have sharpened so I can see clearly in pitch blackness, taste flavors I never knew existed, hear a heartbeat from across a room… and smell the blood running in a human’s veins. All of which only serves to make my struggle more torturous.

My body, as it is now, is nearly impossible to destroy, simply because nothing truly seems to injure it. I would know, for I have tried to kill myself and failed countless times. Poison, burning, stabbing, shooting, hanging, drowning… none of it works, for I am already essentially dead. I need not breathe, which rules out hanging, drowning- and with everything else, my body does not react, or heals so quickly it seems to have never happened. So the stake in the heart is a myth as well- the wound would heal the moment the stake was removed, and possibly before. I am resigned now to the truth that even should I be next to an exploded bomb, my body would not be affected. I simply cannot die.

I believe I know, even understand how Afton felt when she decided to change me. It can be miserable to be alone, without another to understand you, experience with you what you do. For it was Afton who changed me, making herself into my blood mother- though she looks, in appearance, to have been changed when she was close to my own age.

I met her in a ballroom nearly 100 years ago… I thought her to be lovely, a promising, well-brought-up widow whom I had never met before. She gave me her age to be 23, though I do not know the truth of it; though she is far older than I, decades, at least, Afton can make herself appear as young as sixteen or as old as thirty.

I don’t know her story- and truthfully, I have no interest in knowing it, neither her past nor her changing. I do not even wish to know her true name, for I doubt it was originally Afton. I only wish I had never met her, that she would choose to leave me be.

When I met Afton so very long ago, she seemed to me to be the most beautiful, most captivating person in the room, far overshadowing the humans. This is another trait of us- we can be utterly dazzling, if we so choose, and that long ago evening, Afton was no exception. Her attentions greatly flattered me; I felt giddy, nearly elated at the touch of her cool fingers, the soft sound of her voice.

I stood no chance against her, as does no human. And so I became what I am- a monster scarcely less appalling than she.

I can understand Afton’s action in some ways, as I have said; it can get horribly lonely and bleak to live lives- or not live lives- as solitary and friendless as is necessary for our kind to conceal our existence. She wanted me as her companion, eventually, perhaps, as her lover. Another who would be like her, understand her and accept her. I would be lying if I said I do not at times wish I could do as she has done- but the difference is, I could never do it, never purposely condemn a living soul to such a life as mine. Nor could I allow myself to feed upon the lives of others, as she does…

I could have forgiven her what she did to me, possibly even grown to love her in the way she originally hoped. Afton is hardly unattractive or unintelligent. I could have loved her, if only she had even attempted to reject her vampire’s nature.

But she didn’t… not only did she persist in nourishing herself off the life force of others, she did all she could to bring me into her lifestyle as well. She killed a young man before my eyes, knowing how, as a newborn vampire, I would find it nearly impossible to resist partaking of him.

“It is your nature, Dante,” she told me, as she would repeat over and over. “You have left your weak mortal life behind. Do not fight who you are now.”

But I had not chosen to become this- this vile creature. She had chosen for me- and I would fight it, I knew, even then.

I do not know how I resisted her purring words, the gentle caresses of her blood-speckled hands. Her eyes compelled me to join her, to taste what she took so willingly. But worst of all was the blood… oh, I could smell it so strongly, nearly enough to taste it, feel it soak inside my still veins.

But somehow I resisted- somehow I broke forth from her in a blind panic, running, the smell of the dying man’s blood so vivid in my nostrils. All the while Afton called to me, pleading, taunting… gradually her cries grew angry, embittered, for with my rejection of her lifestyle, I rejected her too.

Nearly one hundred years later, it is still an hourly struggle to maintain my control. Everywhere I go I am tormented by the sound of mortal heartbeats, the smell of blood so strong I nearly taste it…

I survive on whatever animals I can find, dead or alive, it does not matter- whatever can come close to partially sating my desires. It is not nearly enough… I just know somehow that only human blood could satisfy me in the way I crave. Twice now I have slipped, under the avid encouragement of Afton, partaken of a human, though not enough to kill them. It was such bitter sweetness, a kind of desperate ecstasy along with horror and shame… so very hard to pull away, return to my vows. It seemed to me after each slip that nothing would be so easy as to break free from them, live as Afton so often urged me to…

It would please her to no end, I know, for me to give in, let myself go in such a way. She has been waiting for me to ever since I first ran from her- and of course, with each day I continue to resist her, her bitterness only increases- along with her determination to break me.

Every day her voice follows me, cropping up at any given moment… and she will appear when I least expect it, a cold smile upon her full red lips… her appearance never fails to shaken me, for I know she will never stop following me, eyeing me, until I give in.

It is quite usual for a vampire blood parent to share a mental connection with their “offspring” at first; to be able to track their thoughts and whereabouts. It is to guide them through the first critical timing after they have first changed, to ensure they don’t go too crazy, do something overt enough to expose us. The connection is supposed to be dropped once the blood parent feels their charge is independent enough to set off on their own without making foolish errors in judgment. But Afton has never severed mine, never let me be fully free from her- deliberately, I know, vindictively.

She still calls for me so many years later, attempting to seduce me in her ways, in her body… and as I continue to resist, her bitterness only grows. She is doing all she can to wear me down, for she will never give up what she perceives as being hers. She will never change another, never attempt to seek out another who might become for her what I will not- not as long as I evade her. I think her hatred for me is nearly equal to the strength of the love she desires I give her.

Afton will not give me up until I go to her- and some days, I grow so weary, so disgusted with myself, my life, that such an option seems nearly attractive.

(You’re such a sad little boy, Dante) Afton sneered in my mind as I strode along quickly, grittily attempting to block her from my mind. (Why would you let such strength to go waste, reduce yourself to a pitiful lump of flesh that does not even have the virtue of life to redeem itself? You render yourself into nothing, neither human nor vampire, because of your foolish softness).

Her cold eyes were narrowed, pale blue slits in the image of her face that arose in my mind. Her long black hair seemed flawless as always, perfectly straight and smooth down her back. Her thinned lips broke out into a smile, and a delighted laugh escaped her, its tone cruelly amused.

(Temptation, temptation), she teased. (How long since you have tasted what you need so desperately, my Dante? How many years has it been since you truly knew the satisfaction you could feel, if only you would let slide your silly clinging of human standards? You could let it go now, Dante, and never look back. No one could blame you- I would welcome you back to me, though you have attempted so feebly to cast me aside. You wish me dead, I know- how unfortunate for you that your wish was long ago granted, and by another.)

What was she going on about- over and over Afton repeated the same sentiments, tireless as one who had eternity for her dreams to be fulfilled.

It was then that I first became aware of her… or rather, her life force. She was fifty yards away, but still I smelled the blood pulsing so quickly in her veins, her heartbeat loud enough to distract me from Afton’s voice…

I froze, searching for her automatically, my mind hostage to my senses. I saw her nearly as soon as I had smelled her, though I was certain she did not notice me.

She was a young human, a teenager- of undetermined age, with long, dark-gold hair and a thin speckled face. She was alone, and in the cool night air dressed as scantily as a streetwalker.

It took me a moment to realize that this was indeed what she was. A teenaged hooker about the streets, her scrawny face pinched into an expression swinging between a practiced defiance and a forced bravado that was terribly obvious- though not nearly as obvious as the quick beating of her young heart.

It was Afton’s laughter that broke the near trance the girl’s heartbeat had slipped me into, Afton who was ironically able to help me gain my precarious control.

(Dante, my Dante… so little control after so many years…)

I took several breaths, forcing myself to breathe in the smell of the girl over and over, so I could think past it, so it would not be so utterly dehabilitating.

(You realize, Dante, that if you would only give into your true nature, it would not be so difficult,) Afton nagged, a serious note to her singsong words. (You would be no longer tempted by every mortal you see, for you would be so much more fully satisfied. I can control myself so much more completely than you, require so much fewer feedings to keep myself well. Your efforts are silly and ultimately futile… you cannot even walk past a child without tormenting yourself, without fear of harming her.)

Something about her tone more than her words made me furious. Even now I do not know why that one comment of Afton’s after so many years of hearing her sentiments in so many ways, would affect me when others I could ignore. Perhaps I was merely tired and defensive… perhaps I truly felt a need to prove myself, my morality, to her once and for all. Or perhaps it was only an excuse, and I knew deep inside exactly what I would eventually do.

But whatever the true answer is, I knew then that I must go to her, the child streetwalker… I must prove in this way tonight what I had attempted to for nearly a century.

Afton sneered as I approached her, still carefully blocking out the smell of the girl’s blood, the racing of her heart. (Masochist) she sneered, (you poor deluded fool, why do you cause yourself such pain when I am so willing to give you your heart’s true desires? You keep lying to yourself, Dante, and I will laugh at your failure.)

The girl looked up as I drew near her, jerking her chin up in a way that I knew was to show a confidence she must surely not possess. I was momentarily unable to speak, mesmerized by the pulse at her throat.

“Hey mister,” she said, and I focused my attention on her lips, making certain they did not stray over to areas that might tempt me. “Lookin’ for a good time?”

Had I not been simultaneously adjusting myself to the powerful aliveness of her, and also blocking out images of Afton’s sneer in my mind, I may have been unable to keep from smiling. It sounded so clichéd, like a line from a bad movie, or graffiti on a subway wall. But then, this was a child of today, and one who clearly was uneducated, judging from her current appearance and occupation.

“No, child, I don’t think so,” I said softly, and I could hear Afton snort, see her eyes roll in a way one would not normally expect from a vampire. “I cannot accept any propositions from you. But I can offer one to you.”

(Oh gods, Dante) Afton sighed. (Just what do you think you are doing? Are you desperate for a pathetic human life you would attempt sexual relations with a human child? Where is that morality you so cling to? Or is this simply more of your masochist bravado- a test of how close you can go before you snap?)

She was not quite wrong on the last part- but I would not allow myself to quite admit it. I was indeed testing myself, proving myself- but also, I told myself, I was merely attempting to help a child who was clearly in danger- if not from me personally, from others like me, or even human predators. She was a child alone near midnight, standing on the street waiting to be picked up- an invitation for murder. Surely it was her best interest for me to eliminate this threat to her life- and surely I could handle myself, between Afton’s taunts and my own determination.

The girl narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously, putting on a scowl, but the cautious gleam in her eyes told me she was interested.

“What you talkin’ about?” she demanded. “What you mean?”

“I mean, child, that this is no life for you,” I told her, gesturing at her clothes, the street stretched around us. “For a child your age to be already setting forth upon such a path- it is not right.”

“What the hell you gettin’ at?” the girl asked, her eyebrows scrunching together. “You some holy roller about to preach to me about some God who never seems to do nothin’ but sit up there and watch and tell us how bad we are? Or you a cop or somethin’? Hey- you ain’t a cop, are you?” she asked, some anxiety flickering across her face, coloring her voice. “I ain’t done nothin’ wrong, I’m just standin’ here! It’s a free country!”

Afton was laughing, but the tone was cold, no amusement- only a resentful ire. (This is the life- the females- you choose over what I offer? You are a pitiful fool indeed, Dante.)

Ignoring her, I tried to breathe through my mouth, make myself unaffected by the fact that the girl’s heart rate had just increased very noticeably.

“No, I am none of the above,” I told the girl quietly. “I am not looking to convict you, nor save your soul, if such things even exist. I’m just someone who wants to help.”

“Well you can’t,” the girl said quickly, almost defiantly, and Afton chimed in, (Oh, a perceptive one, Dante… how sad when the insight of a human surpasses yours.)

“Not unless you want me to turn a trick or give me money,” the girl went on,looking at me with those same wary, nearly hopeful eyes. I regarded her, nearly able to tolerate her smell now- perhaps I had been wrong all those years, and all I needed to keep myself under control was to be around humans, rather than stay away from them. Perhaps what I had tried in defiance to prove to Afton was truer than I’d first believed.

How sad that a child would hope for such a degrading. All the more reason, I told myself piously, that I should help her.

I did not let myself think that the best way to keep her from harm would be to stay away from her- at least, I would have believed this before…

“I told you, child, I will not accept anything you can offer, for I do not need or want it. But I have an offering for you. I do wish to help you- if not forever, at least for tonight.” I met her eyes, concentrating on the shades of varying nuances within them, the sound of my own voice, in order to mute the smell, the sound of her blood, the sight of the pulse jumping slightly in her neck, her wrists…

“Why don’t you come home with me? It would be for one night only, and I would pay your more for doing so than you must expect of anyone using your body for five minutes. I will expect nothing from you. I will not hurt or use you,” I promised, and my own voice seemed that of another to my ears. “You can leave in the morning and go whatever way you will- I will ask nothing of you. But here, tonight, you are not safe.”

(Damn straight she isn’t) Afton snorted in my head, (if you are too weak to drink from this mortal, then another may step up in your place. You are the most dangerous of all cowards, for you believe your weakness to be your strength- your damned morality…)

The girl stared at me, her murky blue eyes squinting. “You for real?” she asked finally. “You ain’t- you want me to come home with you for one night, and you don’t- you don’t want me to screw you? And you’ll pay me? This ain’t some trick- if you’re some cop you can’t do nothin’, I didn’t do nothin’, you did it!”

“I’m not a cop,” I reassured her. “And yes, I mean what I say. I will pay you to come home with me and just go to sleep a while- not with me,” I added hastily.

“Why would you do that?” the girl asked.

Afton spoke up mockingly, imitating her tone. (Yeah Dante, why would you do that… explain to her, Dante, tell her what you are, what you’re trying to prove by being so kind!)

“I just want to,” I told the girl, fighting to repress the anger at Afton that arose in me, a feeling that never failed to further heighten my senses. “Trust me, I will not do anything to you, as you are suspecting- I could not do such a thing.”

(Says who, Dante? Sex with mortals is quite possible- but I assure you, not nearly as much fun as with our own kind.)

As if she would know, I thought with uncharacteristic sharpness. I have been the only vampire Afton has ever set her sight upon.

The girl eyed me a while longer, then glanced around quickly, as if to make sure we were indeed alone. Finally she nodded slightly, jerkily.

“Yeah… whatever,” she muttered. “You ain’t some killer or somethin’, that’s got a thing for people like me, huh? Because I’ll hurt you if you pull any killer crap. I mean it, I’m not afraid to defend myself.”

I would have laughed at the very thought of such a person- a young female human- harming me, if it hadn’t been so sadly and seriously stated, if Afton were not already cackling in my head for me. But instead I looked into the girl’s slitted eyes, and tried to convince myself as well as her of my sincerity.

“Do not worry about me, child. I believe I can handle myself. I will give you no cause to harm me…”

We walked in mostly silence back toward my apartment- I had given the girl ten dollars as proof that I had money and more would come to her, and she had seemed slightly less wary then, a hunger overtaking her eyes when her hands closed around the money. I tried to talk to the girl for several reasons; to block out all I sensed of her, all that tempted me, all but her voice; to block out Afton’s words to me, Afton’s image; and to personalize this person to me, to understand for myself more strongly what it was that so differed her from me.

She was reluctant to speak in more than one or two words answers, but I did discover that her name was Misty, and she was, as I had assumed a runaway-turned-teen-prostitute. Any more details than that were nearly impossible to extract from her.

I had forgotten how long my walks would seem to a human, how far my apartment would feel to her, and by the second or third mile the girl- Misty- was stumbling, slow and languid. I wanted to pull her along by the arm, but I dared not risk touching the pulse at her wrist.

I slowed my pace to hers, and in this way it took over an hour to reach my dwelling. By then Misty was barely awake enough to stand, and I showed her to my bedroom, assuring her that in the morning she need only come to me for her payment, and then could leave. Yes, I do have a bed, though more for sure than because I actually use it- the coffin to sleep in is another myth. The truth is, as I have said, that vampires do not need sleep, if they do not wish to sleep.

I knew Misty fell asleep nearly immediately, for I could hear the sound of her deeper breathing reverbating about the house. Her heartbeat slowed along with her respiration, but still I heard it quite clearly, its beat strong and steady.

I was quite proud of myself- my self-control, my determined resistance against Afton’s derision and my own horrid instincts. I had done quite well… perhaps this was not quite as awful as I had believed. Perhaps I had merely needed to expose myself more to humans.

I remained silent, self-assured and smug as a vindictive Afton ranted in my head about my keeping Misty- “the mortal”, as she called her- “my instrument of self-abuse.” She was nearly as angry because I had not harmed the girl as because I had not listened to her advice- if you could call anything as negative as her words to me something as supposedly well-meaning as advice. I let her rant on, confident that she was wrong- had I not just proven how very little Afton and her ways affected me, how strong and resolute I had grown?

But as the hours passed, and Misty slept on, I quickly began to realize how hastily- how foolishly- I had judged myself. For as the girl slept, her body still, all its energy- all its blood- in a constant, contained area, it seemed louder to me, more apparent and encompassing, than it had been when she was awake.

No matter where I went in the house, I could still hear the slow, constant sound of the beating of Misty’s heart. I could picture her face in my mind, her delicate throat with its pulse bulging slightly with each heartbeat… I saw the complex veins of her scrawny wrists, and once more, I itched for what I knew was inside them. And the smell, oh the smell of her blood… it seemed stronger as she slept, as I removed myself from her, than it had been when I stood five feet from her.

There was nothing I could do now to distract myself from the fact of Misty’s humanity. I could not speak to her, could not even look at her now, for once more I grew uncertain of my control. How could I ever have been foolish enough to believe this was a good idea- how could I ever have been so certain of my invulnerability to a human’s life force?

The physical desire was nearly overwhelming. My throat felt raw, painfully sore and scratchy, even as my head began to pound, light and unsteady. My hands shook, and I began to pace, faltering, weak… I prayed for morning to come, for Misty to awaken and leave. As much as I hated to admit my failure to myself, Afton had been right. Vampires and humans simply cannot mix- at least, not vampires like me.

And all the while, there was Afton in my mind, her face no longer pretty with its cruel twisting, her mocking words not bothering, nonetheless, to conceal her satisfaction.

(You fight so hard when you know you cannot win, Dante) she hissed, but there was an almost affectionate tone to her voice. (You only prolong your suffering… if you would only give in, admit your defeat, you would become more victorious than you can imagine. You have nothing to lose, Dante, and so much to gain… what will you miss out on by giving up your current pathetic existence? Will you miss the pain, the solitude, the constant guarding, constant rigid fear? Will you miss any of this, you silly fool? Can anything be worse than your current condition?)

I paced, trying to banish her from my head, trying to exhale the scent of Misty’s blood from my nose. One of those alone may have been tolerable- but together, it was nearly unbearable… as Afton well knew.

(You think you are strong, to resist what I have made you? To resist power and ability that others would be grateful to receive? You’re not strong, Dante- you are merely very afraid, and this makes you weaker than that mortal child in your bed.)

She chuckled darkly, her eyes glowing with a sudden thought. (You realize, don’t you, that even if the human leaves you unharmed, the scent of her will remain in your home, the one place you regard as free from a trial of your control. You will remain tormented whether or not you partake of her.)

No, I had not thought of this- and this information only served to intensify my near suffering. How could I have been so sure of myself, after all these years of struggling against my urges?

(Wishful thinking) Afton intoned smugly. (wishes don’t’ make reality, my Dante… I would know.)

I breathed in slowly, deliberately trying to smell something- anything- other than Misty. But everything seemed to be soaked in her blood. Her heartbeat was so loud, so…

(Overwhelming) came Afton’s voice. (You know what you want, Dante… you know it is your right, your privilege.)

No, I thought savagely, no! No one has this right, no one- no one should be killed because there are monsters in this world- it’s not fair, it’s not right-

(What of it?) Afton interrupted. (Is it right for you to suffer so another will not? Is it right for us to be deprived of an end to our lives, a conclusion beyond endless existence? Is it right that this human has at her age already destroyed her insignificant little life beyond repair? Why does a mortal of such little worth to anyone mean anything? There is no right, Dante, nor wrong- only one’s desires, one’s needs.)

Her voice softened, grew silky, nearly seductive. (No one will care about this one mortal. She has no one, no future, nothing to look forward to. You are doing no worse to her than what will be done…)

No, I thought roughly as I ground my teeth together, as my fangs unconsciously slid down my lips. It took me several moments to realize and withdraw them. No… I will never do this. Not for you…

Afton’s laughter pierced my head, intensifying its throbbing pain.

(Never say never, my love…)

Slowly, gently I eased the door to my bedroom open, my eyes easily taking in its contents in the darkness of the room. Misty lay asleep, her narrow chest rising and falling as her long hair tangled across her face. She had not bothered to undress or fall under the covers, and in her scanty clothes, nearly see-through, I could almost see her heart beat through her skin.

Skin is so fragile, so delicate… so easily wounded. She was blonde, pale, her veins so easily seen…

Her smell, it was so strong… I held my breath as I watched her, the parchedness of my throat suddenly intensifying. I felt something rattle inside me, and my knees shook.

Afton was silent, but I could see her smile, knew her thoughts. I tried to push them aside, focus only on my own. Could I truly handle this- did I know what I was doing?

I took another step toward Misty, slow, pensive. It was then that she stirred, her eyes opening reluctantly. I held myself very still, watching, waiting… controlling.

A flicker crossed her face, and she shook her head, seeming resigned. “I knew you couldn’t be for real,” she mumbled foggily. “Ain’t no guy alive who wouldn’t screw me over given half a chance.” She sat up slowly, pushing her hair over her shoulders, adjusting her clothes.

“All right, like I said, I’m willin’- what is it you want me to do?”

I regarded the girl before me with eyes I knew to her, a mortal, would appear in the darkness to be shaded and unreadable.

“It is not what I want, child,” I said softly. “It is what I need.”

Her eyes narrowed, but as she opened her mouth to speak, I covered it with one hand. As I pulled her against me, the sound of her heart seemed the only music in the world… I could feel her blood straining hard in her veins, so close to me…

As my fangs punctured her throat, as she went limp and pale in my arms, her feeble struggles ceasing, as the sweet relief of her filled me fuller than I had experienced in so long, I could hear Afton faintly in my mind, her voice warm, congratulatory…

(Well done, my love… welcome to your eternity)

The end