Elixirs

The cracked steps were steep and slippery.  I was cursing my shoe choice this evening.  I picked my way down the steps carefully, the street noise and the music from the club above faded with each step.  I could hear my footsteps echoing faintly in the darkness.  I did not cherish having to be here.  Two months and several bodies in my wake, I really hoped it was worth it.

I pushed the steel door open.  The small room was cramped and tiled.  Dirty plastic chairs lined the perimeter of the room much like a doctor's office.  I found a seat at the far end of the room, my back against the wall facing the door.  Everyone stared as I took my seat but I was used to it, in fact I liked it.  It's been like this since 1775. 

That was the year I met Drago, the epitome of the tall, dark, and handsome tale.  I was living at the French Court enjoying all it had to offer, which when you spend every cent your peasants have begrudgingly given to you as taxes, can be an awful lot.  I was smitten with him instantly and spent months trying to get his attention, all the women at the court did.  Finally, at a party, he asked me to dance and I ended up a vampire later that night.  I never looked back on the life I was leaving.  I had Drago and a new exciting, life, shall we say.  What a glorious time we had in the following years.  There's nothing like a revolution to assist in the slaying.  Those lovely times soon came to an abrupt end when he managed to get his head lopped off.  Seems he was just as incapable of learning as Louis and Marie.

I was pulled out of my reverie when the werewolf walked in.  God they stank, even in human form.  He stopped at the door his hair on end.  He wasn't interested in entering the room with me sitting there and I was fine with that. 

“So, now he's treating vampires,” he grunted.

I looked up but said nothing.  Several, shall we say individuals for the sake of conversation, in my immediate area shifted in their seats but no one made a move to throw me out.  It was true, vampires did not seek out magical cures.  Nothing could really harm us, with the exception of decapitation and dismemberment but that happened so infrequently one did not really think much of it.  However, we did sometimes suffer odd reactions to human diseases.  Human diseases, when they did affect us, would just slow us down or reduce our hypersensitive abilities.  This was the problem I was now experiencing.  My hearing was low, almost at human levels once more and I was finding it very distracting.  I needed it back.  A few months ago I was feeding and didn't hear someone come up behind me.  Damn guy almost managed to hit me with a wood plank, which would not have done anything to me but I won't have it happen again.

The werewolf was still standing in the doorway.  No one had made room for him.  I crossed my legs and stared him down.  I always found them fun to play with, like dogs.  A good scratch behind the ears and they were done for.  This one, however, was not going to play nice with anyone here.  I just didn't want to be involved.

He became restless, pacing up and down the hallway in front of the door growling to himself.  He was making everyone nervous.  There was something terribly wrong with him to be here.  Most think vampires the scourge of the earth but an unstable werewolf was worse, much worse. 

“I wish you could just calm down,” said a very short woman near the door.  Her feet didn't touch the floor and she was a strange color that I hadn't noticed when I came in, sort of blue, with pointy ears.

He stepped into the room and hovered over her.  He was flexing his hands, the joints popping.  His breathing was rough.  He was going to turn.  I had seen it happen once and it that was out in a clearing.  This room wouldn't hold him and the last thing any of us needed was a giant, unstable wolf in our midst.

I jumped, caught him by the throat and slammed him into the wall.  “Get hold of yourself,” I spat at him.  “There's no room here you filthy mutt.”

I could feel him shaking, I didn't know if it was loss of control or anger.  He began to growl at me, a slow rumbling that shook the room.

The door at the back of the room opened.  Out strolled a short man, rather squat, his long robe dragging along behind him.  It was grimy at the hem as if he had been standing in a puddle of dirty water.  It was an all too vivid reminder of where I was.  His hair was long, straggly, and gray.  His black eyes made a quick sweep around the room and landed on me.  There was something very wrong about his eyes.  They scared me, something I didn't feel very often.

He sniffed the air, “Ah, freshly baked cookies.  That must be you my dear.” 

His eye bore into me and I wished he would look away.  He didn't stop staring but I had stopped breathing.  There was something about the way he smelled that was just wrong.

“Come in Cecilia,” he turned and walked back through the door.  “I've been waiting for you.”

I dropped my hold on the werewolf's throat.  He had stopped shaking and was now looking like a scolded dog.  I knew it had nothing to do with me.  The people assembled in the small room scared me but somehow following this little man into the adjoining room was an even worse proposition.  If I wanted what he offered, and I did, I needed to move and move fast before the damn wolf decided to finally take a lunge at me, calm as he seemed at the moment.

In two strides I made it into the room and slammed the door behind me louder than I intended.

“Nervous dear.”

“No.  It's the smell.”

He nodded.

His back was to me and he was busy grinding something with a mortar.  It was flowers and honey.  It wasn't enough to mask the smell of the place but I was grateful for it. 

“You are more beautiful than I remember you dear.”

“Stop calling me that.”

He turned around, folded his hands over his round stomach and looked at me.  He was still the same mage I had met some 200 plus years ago in France.  In my naivety of being a newborn vampire I had hunted him down and asked to be cured after Drago was killed.  I still remember his laugh, very high pitched, when I told him what I wanted.  I was enjoying life with Drago but after his untimely end, I wanted out.  I searched the slums, under bridges, and dark tunnels asking information from anyone that would give it to me.  The ones that wouldn't talk, well, they met with another ending.  I was reckless, death wish reckless.  I was hoping for a hunting party to track me, a small village to attack me, anything.  I wanted to be dead.  The problem was that I had been dead for over 10 years already and the years were only going to drag on.

He was staring at me but I had no inclination to talk.  I wasn't here for a pleasant visit; I was here because I needed him to cure me.  There was no one else that could or would do what he could but if there had been I would have been much happier.

“So my dear, are you still looking for a way out?”

I smiled my sweetest smile at him which caused him to shift in place.  He knew all too well what I was capable of and I wanted to remind him.  He could play nice all he wanted but we both knew I could kill him, I had already tried once and came very close.  I just wanted the cards on the table.  He understood.

“What can I do for you?” he asked as he turned his back to me rummaging about with his jars on the table and shelf.

“My hearing is at almost normal human levels and I need it back.”

He nodded and began assembling various herbs and liquids on the table in front of him.  He sniffed at a few, poured some into a clear bottle and began to speak softly.  I couldn't hear him and it annoyed me to no end.  Over 200 years of super sensitive hearing and here I was now trying to make out a few mumbled spells.

“Patience dear.”

My skin crawled when he called me dear. 

“I had been waiting for you.”

“Really,” I said. 

“It's been too long since our last visit.”

“About 150 years ago.”

“I had been hoping to find you but I never would have believed my luck that night.”  He turned to look at me now.  His eyes scanned me quickly, not too lingering as I was still smiling at him.  “It was during the American Civil War, remember?  We met at that small tavern in Massachusetts about 1862.  You walked in and killed three men.  You did it quite quickly and efficiently I might add, very impressive.  You walked right by me after setting the place aflame.”  He smiled, “I stayed in town a few days after that hoping to see you again but it was clear you had already left.  You know, no one ever suspected a vampire did that little job.  Confederates they all said.  It became a little rallying cry.  Never thought of you as a patriot my dear.”  He laughed but it was more like paper crackling.

I remembered that night well.  I has just arrived in Philadelphia and was incredibly hungry.  I found a few drunk men in an alley but it wasn't enough.  I was crazy with hunger and thirst and walked right in the tavern and killed them all.  In the end, I was thankful there had only been three men, anymore I would have been dead.  He had been sitting next to the door.  I missed him when I stormed in.  I saw him on the way out.  He nodded at me and followed me out.  I took off running and never looked back.  I was terrified of him.  He knew what I was and stood to loose nothing by telling the townspeople that a vampire was in their midst.  I ran for days without stopping.  For years I spent every moment looking over my shoulder hoping not to see him again, which made being here even worse.

“Why bring that up?”

He shrugged.  “Conversation.”

I wanted to scream at him that this was not a social call.  I had no interest in being his friend.  I hated him.  He scared me.  I somehow always thought this man would be my death. 

“Been to Africa or South America lately?”

“No.”

“Lovely places but I'm not asking about your vacation plans.  Loss of hearing is usually due to malaria.  Blood borne diseases just wreak havoc with vampiric senses, especially hearing.”

He was talking about the oddities of the human circulatory system but I had stopped listening.  If he wanted to talk, fine, I'd let him but I didn't have to listen.

I watched him putting together a small potion bottle for me.  It looked purple in the dim light of the room.  I cynically wondered if it would kill me and then tried to push the thought out of my mind; he wouldn't be that kind to me.

“Well, that's all of it.”  He was holding the small bottle.

I held out my hand for the bottle but he didn't move to offer it.  I tilted my head, “Yes?”

“There's something I've always wanted to ask you dear.”

I nodded.

He handed over the bottle which I put in the pocket of my jacket.  “Drago.” 

I braced myself for another long conversation.  “Yes?” I said, impatient to leave.

“Russia.”

“Not in my immediate future.  Too cold this time of year.”  Of course I was in Chicago in February and a vampire that didn't feel cold so not much of a reply.  I gave him my most startling smile hoping to get him off this track but he was waiting for it.

“There's something I want that he took from me.  I know he hid it and I think you know what it is and where it is.”  He took a step toward me.  “I want it back.”

I had no idea what he was talking about and meant it when I said it.  He was not so inclined to believe me.

“It is small and very powerful.  It was mine but he thought he could take it and leave me for dead.  He should have checked me one last time before leaving but he was more handsome than intelligent.  Don't you agree dear?”

My head started to spin.  All those odd times I thought I had run into him were no chance encounters.  He had been following me. 

“I was living in Vladivostok when I first ran into him.  I didn't know what he was at first but I knew he wasn't human, but then neither was I so we got along famously.”  He stopped for a minute lost in a bit of revelry.  “We spent a few months traveling through Russia and then he turned on me.  He stole from me.  I couldn't find him after that.  He was adept at hiding, that, and killing, but I digress.”

“I don't have anything of Drago's.  He never gave me anything.”

He smiled at me.  “Funny dear.”

“Look Kamen, whatever it is you want, I don't have it.  Thank you for your help but I'll be on my way now.  Name your price for this,” I took the small bottle out of my pocket and drank it.

A smile smeared across his face.  “It's cursed.”

“What?”

“The potion.  I cursed it.  It won't work unless you get me what I want.”

His voice was flat and I knew he wasn't lying.  I had stood here and watched him prepare it and saw him mumbling over it.  I never thought he would have cursed it though.  I just stared at him.  He wanted what Drago took and I was now going to be helping him whether or not I wanted to. 

“What was it?”

“Oh, the curse, well it's what you asked me for all those years ago dear.”  A smile spread across his face as he turned back to the table.

Now was not a good time to die.  In fact, I was living very contently and death was not on my schedule.

“Not the curse,” I said, teeth grinding together so hard that it made it hard to speak.  “What did Drago take from you?”

“Oh, yes, that.”

“Yes, that!”

“Come with me and I can show you.”  He walked through the drape that hung loosely behind his table and pushed it aside waiting for me to enter.

“After you,” I said.

He shrugged and slipped through.  I cautiously followed wondering when he would utter the final words and send me to hell.

The curtain hid a hallway.  I could hear his footsteps echoing in front of me.  I ran a few steps to catch-up.  Some how even his company was better than none in this place. 

It seems to go on forever but I knew we had only been walking for mere seconds.  He came to an abrupt halt in front of a wall, said a few words I didn't hear and the wall disappeared.  He shuffled in very pleased with himself.

The room was round and wet.  Rats scuttled around the edges trying to find their way out.  I considered following them but knowing I could possibly be dead soon and not really wanting that future, held myself in place, at least to hear what he wanted.  Now, I was just curious.  Odd sayings began running through my head about how curiosity killed the cat and I almost found myself laughing.  Must be the death thing I decided.  Oddly, no one had ever been able to carry through on a death threat on me but this greasy little man might actually be able to do it.  I was finding it all so amusing.

He was standing over what looked to be an indentation in the floor.  I scanned the room and decided to stay where I was near the door. 

“Have you ever heard of the fountain of youth?”

“Fairy tale.”

He turned to me, “Need I remind you dear, we are all fairy tales here.”

I shrugged, knowing I didn't have much time left gave me an odd sense of courage.

He turned back to the hole.  “It's real.  You see, that's how I've managed to stay so, ...fresh, all these years.  One drink will give you almost 200 years but it's far from perfect and certainly not forever.  To make it forever, you need the elixir of life.”

“I thought this fountain was supposed to be the elixir of life.  What more do you need?”

“A stone.  It needs the stone to make it permanent.”  He became very quiet, which annoyed me greatly.  I had to move closer to hear him, something I didn't want to do.  “The stone, the elixir of life, is what Drago stole from me.  I need it back to complete the ritual I started over 500 years ago.”

We were both quiet now, staring down into the depths of the small pool in the center of the room.

“I could just bite you and we can be done with all this foolishness.  If it's living forever that you want, I can give you that.”

“Thank you for what I'm sure is a very generous offer but no.  I have no desire to become one of the undead.”

“Seems to me that is the case.”  I looked at him, his eyes sparkled again.  “If you don't find the stone you die, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Then reverse the curse you put on me and I'll turn you.”

“Your biting me would accomplish absolutely nothing.  I, while I may not consider myself in the same category as yourself, I am to a certain degree already, undead.  I cannot be turned by you or anyone else of your persuasion.”

“The stone.  You're convinced I know where it is?  Why?”

“You may not have ever realized this my dear but you were that stupid Russian's true love.  He wanted you more than anything and he got you.  He wanted to spend the rest of his life, well, living with you.”  He took a deep breath, “I was not so lucky but at least I have my actual life to live now and the extraordinary to explore.  That I will not be giving up.  I still have too much to see to say my goodbyes now.”

I listened for a while, tuning in and out as he talked about his life.  He led a long life but for me not an engrossing one, or at least not as engrossing as he thought it was.  I wanted him to get to the part about the stone.  I also began wondering about the probability of finding the actual fountain of youth in an old subway tunnel in Chicago but soon stopped when I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all.

He was saying, “I found it one day just out of the blue and I knew what I had.  I figured out years ago how to conjure the fountain any time and place I wanted but in order to make the effects everlasting, one has to have the stone to complete the ritual.”

“What is so special about this particular stone?  Why not use magic to create a new one?”

“Magic exists everywhere but it cannot be altered.  One has to be able to harness it to use it but it cannot be created out of nothing.  The stone has the properties I need.”

I ran my hands through my hair.  Frustration was getting the best of me.  “Just tell me where I can find it.”

“That would be the big question now wouldn't it.  I don't know what the big Russian did with it.  If he didn't give it to you, which I still haven't ruled out, then I don't know.”

He turned to leave and this time I followed him more closely.  The potion was making me feel off and the last thing I wanted was to be stuck here in the dark with rats and no senses.

“The potion I gave you dear, it should be kicking in about now.”

“I'm still having trouble hearing so maybe you want to lift that curse and give me back my senses if  you want me to go out gem hunting for you.”

He laughed.  “No, not yet.  There are a few other properties that potion has and I need it to help me a bit more before I let you leave.”

“Let me leave?  That's not within your power and you know it.”  I was becoming upset and didn't want to let myself lose control. 

“Sorry, I spoke out of turn,” he said quickly.  He must have sensed I was upset.  “I never intended to keep you here.  What I meant was that I still had a few things to speak with you about before you made your way home.”

I nodded, afraid to open my mouth but hoping this was enough to keep him talking.  Now I did want out.  I was beginning to think I might just kill him before I left or at least try.

We were back in his small office when he spoke again.  “The potion, it was also a truth serum.  I wanted to know for sure whether or not you really knew where the stone was.”

Now I was furious.  Not killing him was going to be very difficult.  I was breathing very hard, not something I wanted to be doing in the rank basement.  “I told you, I. Don't. Know. Where.  It.  Is.”

“This much is true my dear, but I still need your assistance in finding it.  If you would, please, of course.”

“Give me the antidote now or I kill you.  I'm done with this game of yours.  I came for a cure and now you're trying to keep me here to help you with a fantasy.  I have no idea where the damn stone is and I don't care!”

I turned to leave.  He grabbed my arm, “Please dear, I need your help.  Please.”

“When will my hearing return?”

“Very soon.  There was no curse.  I lied about that part because I needed your help.  The truth spell has worn off.  It will take a few more hours and your hearing will be fully restored.  But I still need your help.”

I looked down at him and then at the hand holding me.  He removed it before I had the chance to break it.  “You forget little old man that I will live forever.  I offered you what I can but you refused.  Now, I'm done.  I have nothing left to offer and no more compassion left for you and this disgusting lifestyle you've made for yourself.”

“Please,” he said very quietly.

“Ask the wolf for help.”

“I cannot force you to do anything.”

“No, you can't,” I spat at him.

I pulled the door open.  The waiting room in its entirety stared at me.  I made it to the door and was up the steps before anyone made a move.  I wanted out and I knew that if I didn't take my leave now, I wasn't sure I'd be allowed to.  The noise from the club was gone which made me think it was near dawn. 

I emerged onto the street.  The sun was just beginning to rise as I ran for my car.  I slumped down in the seat feeling like I needed to keep running but knew it wouldn't matter.  I also knew that it wasn't over with Kamen.  He would find me again.  I didn't know what it was he was looking for and had no real desire to find out but he was convinced that he needed me to find it.  Running would not matter anymore. 

I started the car and pulled out into traffic.  The city was coming to life once more.  Oddly, I enjoyed this time of day.  Something about watching people whose lives were finite gave me a sense of peace.  They had purpose.  Their days were limited, unlike mine.  I had no reason to hurry, time for me was arbitrary but I still liked watching them run to and from attempting to accomplish so much in so little time.

I pulled into the dark garage and waited for the door to close before getting out.  The house was dark, just I had left it.  It was very soothing. 

I was standing in my kitchen when I heard it.  A small shuffling sound.  I smiled to myself.  The bastard had done his job, my hearing was back.

“Come out, come out where ever you are.”

It stopped. 

“He still wants his stone,” said a very small voice.

“Tell the old man I want nothing to do with his game.”

“He still wants his stone and he says you are the only one who can help.”

“Tell the old man I want nothing to do with his game.”

“He will not like your answer.”

“Tell the old man I want nothing to do with his game.”

“He...”

“I don't care what he wants.  Tell the old man I want nothing to do with his game.  You know what I am do you not?”

“Yes.”

“Then leave.”

I heard the small shuffling fade and knew I was alone.  I also knew it wouldn't be for much longer.  He was desperate and sure I was his only chance.  It was far from over for him.  For me, I knew I could end it and knew there were consequences that came with killing a mage but what did I have to loose after all.  I would live forever.

A link to Remedy, the sequel, is below.

ID: 1607697   (Rated: 13+) Remedy  A sequel to Elixirs. by dc-musing