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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1325281
The first story involving my character, Lithium Black. This is but a small piece.
Astria:

I have strolled in languid splendor upon the ground of many nations, for as many moon cycles as one can tolerate, but I believe this is the first sunrise that I have spent with a sense of purpose. I am in Nowhere, Wyoming of all places, occupying a small table in a rather lonesome little diner at home in the shadows of the Rocky Mountains. Emily, my waitress seems intent on small talk, but I am uncertain of how to decline her offer without being rude. Right now, this letter and my breakfast are all that I wish to fill my thoughts with on such a bitter October morning.

Astria, I hope you can forgive my sudden departure from the life that we began, but it was necessary. For the sake of any future that we may be able to enjoy, I needed answers. I have lived the majority of my life under the knowledge that I am the last of my kind, but knowing now that I have been wrong for so long plants further doubt in my mind. If my son is indeed alive, then I must find him, even if the price for such an elusive discovery demands every drop of my blood be fed to the earth. Even now, I am wondering how the search for Gregor has led me into the arms of this diner. Hunger yes, but perhaps something else which lurks beneath sixty year old wood paneling and years of untreated mildew. An unbridled and unspoken truth perhaps, that more thrives here than bacon fat and small town charm and conversation. The locals who are so determined to discuss my presence here at this hour, while I sip their coffee and partake of their food, may know that I am an "other". Perhaps they understand that I belong up in the mountains with the rest of our brethren, scurrying in filth and sleeping in fitful surges of time upon sharp rock instead of sitting among them, tapping upon my laptop wearing a silk Armani suit.

Know that I shall return to you. I wish I could tell you when to expect me at our door, but I cannot. I may return to you as the same man you love, older surely, but still myself. I may return to you changed. It is possible that you may find a bitter and broken shell, soulless and manic, clamoring in an irate state of desperation for the life I've left behind. Regardless, please know that now, at this moment, I am still Lithium Black. I am still the vampire you've loved for more than a hundred years, and no amount of time or trauma will erase my love for you.

My cup is now empty, and I have come to the end of this letter. I am contemplating whether to remove dear Emily's heart, or just suck out her eyes. At any rate, I am hopeful that I am able to refrain from staining my suit with her blood.

I love you Astria,
Lithium



Sunrise burst over the horizon like an enthusiastic child, desperate to show the world what it was capable of. Lithium Black allowed himself to be bathed in the early morning light, feeling its warmth caress him as if it were a lover exploring him. He had always loved the sunrise. It seemed to him, that it was the time of day most suited for death. Darkness faltered, still clutching onto wayward shadows as if to halt its demise, while the celestial radiance of daybreak threatened to undo the dread which nightfall always carried with it.

The vampire looked back at the diner, a look of terse sadness etching itself into the lines of his face. He had left dear Emily alive, a fifty dollar tip in her hand along with the promise of his return the following morning, which sent a smile beaming from the girl's angelic face. He pictured her now, her short career as a human being allowed to continue for perhaps another twenty years due to his mercy, her amber curls finding themselves entwined within a lover's fingers one day, should luck be kind to her.

Had he been reduced to this? Lithium Black, the Dark Dragon himself, forced into fits of doubt at the thought of murder? He had been feared for centuries. After one thousand years on this earth, he had built a reputation without equal. The deadliest assassin this world or any other had seen, was beckoned to a standstill by youth. The idea very nearly made him vomit.

He stared North into the far horizon, his sadness like a virus, mutating into rage within his brain. He stripped out of his suit, allowing the silent facade to fade, and the natural blue hue of his skin to filter through. Gone was the five foot seven anglo business man, a swathe of blonde hair atop his head. In his place stood the near seven foot vampire, scalp hair free and scars adorning his flesh as if carving the very life of Lithium himself into an electric blue canvas. His tattoos seemed to glow in the sunlight, sending shifting glints of radiance dancing into the mountains beyond.

The pain from his change subsided, and the Dark Dragon gathered his usual attire from the trunk of his car. He dressed in slow languid gestures, evoking dragonflies to float around him, curious as to who this entity may be. His boots, knee high black leather footwear that he had owned since the dark ages, stretched into an illusion of an abyss in the safety of an ankle length black leather kilt...gomi-ta, as it was once called by a vampire race that had long been extinct. These items were totems to the Dark Dragon. Gifts from long ago parcels of a life before cell phones and personal computers. Before automobiles and airplanes. An age where things still made sense to him.

Kill or be killed was the law in his youth. His father Jorda, and his uncle Omerio had beat it into him every day since he was an infant that he needed to adopt wanton murder as a way of survival. The Veratise race depended on bloodshed. Not for sport, or sustenance as some vampire races had, but for self awareness.

"Lithium," his father had once told him. "We were meant to challenge the fabric of reality. To be the push to its pull. No one can hinder us, nor take from us that which we thieve from others. We will live forever, and our measure shall weigh us as true historians for future generations, for who but us shall see all the wonders and the horrors that vampires and humans deal to one another?"

But they did die. All, save for him. The memory of that genocide hardened him. His eyes flashed anguish, like an irrisdescent hurricane, and he knew of only one way to quell that fury. As if conjured from thin air, his blades now rested in his hands. He felt the weight of them, the flow. Liquid death, wielded by the original sadist. He turned his attention back to the diner, spinning the blades upon a cascade of wind. An almost gleeful smile crossed his face as he focused on young Emily within the window and began to walk toward her.



I'm not one to break down for any reason, but morning found me sitting up in bed, hands shaking bad enough, that I wasn't able to light my damn cigarette. Sunlight peered in through the window, as if afraid of what it may find, and I was suddenly drawn to my reflection in the mirror opposite the bed. I looked beaten up. My hair was matted and unkempt, and bags had begun to pile themselves beneath my eyes. Had I allowed this to effect me this much? Lithium had been gone for more than a year, and I had had no word from him. Not one letter, postcard or email telling me where he was or where he was going. I didn't know if he was dead or alive.

My cell rang then, snapping me out my pessimistic daydreams. I answered with my usual flair.

"This is Lurstwood, what do you want?"

"Astria, how's the world treating you girl?" it was Matt Hickey, my best friend and detective out of the Detroit P.D.'s 9th precinct.

"What is it Matt? You know I don't appreciate anyone calling until I've had my shower and some breakfast."

"Are you telling me that you're just getting out of bed? It's two o'clock Astria. This is getting ridiculous."

"Yeah, well try having the love of your life walk out on you with no warning. Then try to get by for a year without hearing a word from him. You tell me how that brightens up your day to day life, okay?"

"Anyway," he ignored me as usual. "I have a situation that I think you might be able to help me with."

"What, is there a dead cat in a tree on Belle Isle?"

"Fuck, I wish. Actually, we have a body."

"Any identification?"

"Oh yeah. He's an old friend of yours Astria, I think you're gonna like this."

"Do I really wanna know?"

"Does the name Chama DeSilva ring a bell?"

"DeSilva?" I felt a shudder run through me then. The prick and I went way back. "Do we have a time of death?"

"Coroner estimates at least three days, maybe four. They tore him up Astria. We were lucky to have found his wallet. The only identifying mark on him is the birthmark on his face. Teeth have been pulled; hands gone, which means no prints and no dental records. Dental records, shit. Half his fucking head's gone."

I sucked in a breath. There was only one thing that I knew of that could rip a vampire to shreds like that.

"Astria, you there?" Matt injected an almost pleading tone into his voice.

"Yeah Matt. Give me an hour. I'll bring the bloodhound with me."

"Do you really think that's a good idea? You know she hates you."

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a rat's ass. That bitch owes me."

With that I hung up the phone, wondering how in the hell I was going to convince Lithium's daughter to assist us with a homicide investigation. She'd sooner kill me than give me the time of day. Fuckin' kids.

Fifteen minutes of elapsed time found me standing nude in my bathroom, shower running hot, and me holding onto the edges of my sink for support. When Lithium had left, I had understood but it didn't make things easier. I didn't appreciate just how much I had depended on him until he was gone. He was always there for emotional support, as a body to cuddle up to at night when the very real fear of death seemed to lurk outside our window. How many times had I stared that reality in the face, only to gain favor from some sort of miracle and escape? I kept so many trophies in our home, as reminders of what I had to live for, but the only one I ever needed was Lithium himself. I even missed the smells that would fill the house whenever he cooked. For the world's deadliest assassin, he really was one hell of a chef and housekeeper. The thought brought an unexpected smile to my face, and I regained my composure long enough to cleanse and dress myself before I went to wake Mara Black.



She looked so beautiful. Just enough light sauntered into the room to etch an almost regal quality into her features. She looked no more than seventeen, flawless skin like ivory melting into the deep scarlet of her bed sheets. Her hair flowed like fine silver threads across the pillows, draping over her bare shoulders and back in gentle gestures almost tickling the celtic inspired tattoo on her spine. This vision of near perfect beauty was also drooling onto her pillow.

"Mara!" I yelled at her. Nothing. Alright then, plan B.

"Mara, rise and shine ya little bitch!" Damn. Plan C?

"Money!" Her arm reached out to me, hand open and palm flat.

"Hmshhh," she mumbled, half asleep.

"Mara, we've been over this. I don't speak 'dumb-ass'."

"How much? Do I need to engrave it on your forehead, Astria?"

She opened her eyes, a look of absolute contempt shot in my direction. Those eyes really were quite lovely, like the rest of her. Night or day, they shone a brilliant violet color. I wish my eyes weren't so dull, but my vampire race were revered for different talents. As for Mara Black, I already wanted to smack her.

"I'm offering five-hundred Mara, but you have to earn it. No bullshit here."

"And what do you possibly think I would ever do for you, that could be worth five- hundred bucks, hmm?" She may as well spit on me, she was so goddam sarcastic.

"Well for one, your father's back in town."



It sat in tranquil splendor as it ate the remains of its prize. The vampire had gone down easy, much to this thing's surprise. Now, its muzzle was buried in what remained of the vampire's skull, licking the inside to remove the trace brain tissue and the residue of gore. Finished with its meal, the beast tossed Chama DeSilva's skull aside, and began to climb to the top of the Fisher Building, using its senses to find more food. Pigeons scattered in hurried flight as it reached the northern edge, police sirens and human voices drifting up on the wind to greet the low growl which emanated from the thing's throat. Its four arms gripped the building for stability, ten talons on each hand ticking away an unknown impatient rhythm on the brick facade.

It had spent its rather short life killing, learning how to shred every variety of man, beast, and vampire with little effort. In time, it discovered something new with every kill: pleasure. An almost autonomous bliss mingling in blood, easing its anxiety and sending mutated endorphins into its brain, which always seemed to kiss various nerve endings with gentle persuasion. This was what it was meant to do, what it was built for; death of every fashion. It snapped its toungue forward, licking the moisture from the air, and the smell of a small boy with it. A child no more than seven, sweating and exhausted, perhaps from running, with a definite taste for raspberry soda, the creature surmised. It cocked itself in expert fashion, and leaped down to West Grand Boulevard to claim its next meal.



“We have all the time in the world Astria. Remember that I’m with you. No matter where my body lies, my soul shall forever be yours.”

Lithium’s words hung in my mind like cobwebs. The memory sat still like a weight, clouding my concentration and forcing me to think about the past, which I hate. He spoke those words to me as we made love, once upon a time. The world could not have been bathed in a more perfect tone for me, wrapped in my lover’s arms and locking away everything outside of our room…outside of us and what we needed at that moment. I felt as if I would cry right then and there. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I missed the turn onto Telegraph road.

“Shit!” I was screaming.

I swung my Jeep around in a very dangerous, and very illegal U-turn, and headed back the way I had come. Mara was screeching at me like I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had.

“Do you mind telling me what the fuck you’re doing?” Mara yelped.

“I missed my turn alright? Shut up.”

I turned left onto Telegraph, heading west. Another few miles and we’d be at the Wayne County Morgue.

“Astria,” Lithium’s voice in my memory again, soothing. “I need to talk to you.”

“What about?” I remember a smile on my face, trying to counter the look of grim adversity that was fastened to his. I think I knew then what was coming.

“I have to leave. I have to know if my son’s alive.”

We had spent the previous month in Santa Fe, New Mexico of all places, locked in heated battle with several rogue vampires who turned out be Veratise. Lithium had spent most of his adult life believing that he had been the last of his race. The incident in Santa Fe finally confirmed it. He had had no choice but to slaughter hundreds of his own for fear that they would start a war pitting vampire races against one another. Reason had not worked.

“Mara predicted this,” he continued. “Ever since I adopted her, she’s somehow known that this would come. I never believed her, but here it is.”

And with that, he was gone. No further explanation, no long goodbye. Just a void where there once was so much happiness. I hated him for that. In a way I still did. In a way I hoped he wouldn’t come back at all. I didn’t how I could face him after so much time had passed without a word from him. My one connection to him was Mara. His beautiful adopted daughter, half Terru vampire and half Lumis, gifted with profound psychic abilities and a talent for tracking. She blamed me for her father leaving us.

Perhaps she knew something that I didn’t. Was there a hole in the happy life that Lithium and I had built that I didn’t see that caused him to run? Was Gregor just an excuse? After more than a year, I still had so many unanswered questions, I felt as if I might drown within them. I had considered so many times, sitting Mara down and talking to her about Lithium, but she wouldn’t say a word to me unless she was screaming. I felt so alone and so desperate, the only thing I could talk to nowadays was a liquor bottle.

We arrived the Medical examiner’s office late, but not by much. A quick survey of the parking lot told me that Matt hadn’t arrived yet either. Madeline Copeland, Wayne County’s most respected ME, did not tolerate tardiness. No other person on the planet could make me feel like a naughty child like she could. I was proud to call her a friend.

“Are you ready for this?” the question was posed to Mara, but I had an odd feeling that I was also asking myself in a way.

“Yeah, I guess. I haven’t seen the fucker in nearly seventy years.”

“He’s still your father Mara.”

“No, Lithium is my father. DeSilva was just the sperm donor. I still don’t know why the hell you brought me along to begin with.”

“We’ll know in a while whether or not I wasted your time, so try to relax. You’re still getting paid regardless.”

“Wait a minute…d’you smell that?”

Before I could answer, my windshield was spattered in blood.



A powerful arm the color and texture of smooth onyx burst through the window, clutching me around the throat and dragging me from the driver's seat. I heard Mara screaming, but the world was drifting in slow tenures to a black haze. I felt an artery pop in my neck as the creature hauled me to its level, boring its eyes into mine and coating my face with breath the odor of blood and rotten meat.

It growled from somewhere deep within. A gutteral voice of hunger perhaps, surmising whether or not I was tender and flavorful. It cocked its head, and tossed me aside like a rag doll. I felt my left shoulder dislocate as I hit the ground, coughing up blood and moaning. I turned my head around, scrambling for my gun when I got a better look at it. The skin was beautiful. Black as pitch and smooth as polished stone. It towered over me at nearly seven feet, perched on the balls of its feet, careful to keep its weight centered. This was the stance of a killer, methodical and balanced, ready for any movement, whether it be to kill or run.

Fuck, where was my gun? If I stayed where I was, I was dead. If I'd lost my weapon, I was also dead. I was proficient in hand to hand combat, but I wouldn't stand a chance against this fucker. It was solid muscle, with (I couldn't believe my eyes) four arms fastened to its torso. A quick surveying glance told me that this thing had at least ten fingers on each hand, armed with very long, razor sharp claws. Plus it was quick. On a normal day, I hear everything, but this thing had barely registered to my senses before it had me in a death grip. A snap to the right with my eyes located my gun, a Glock .45, modifed for .52 Slingtop Ballslug ammo. It was on me before I had a chance to move, talons punched through my upper torso.

"Astria!" Mara was screaming. I was dead, and I knew it. The thing brought its face close to mine, clacking hundreds of needle-like teeth.

"Vampire," it spoke. Holy shit, the fucker could talk. "Astria," it said, and smiled. It lowered its open mouth to me, and I closed my eyes hoping it would be quick.

Gunfire rang out above me. Two shots, then four. My eyes opened long enough to see the monster's head explode, milky white blood spattering over me. Headless, it shifted its weight enough for me to roll out of the way. I almost shit myself when it stood up, turning toward the direction of the shots like it was looking for whatever attacked it, though it no longer had a head.

I followed its direction, and saw Matt crouched down with a shotgun locked tight against his shoulder, drawing down on the creature. He fired twice more, hitting it square in the chest, forcing it to stagger back into afternoon rush hour traffic. I think we were both waiting for the inevitable, when it leaped high into the air and was gone.

I was losing blood, and fast. I only remember looking up in Matt's shocked face as the world went black.



Astria:

I have trickled into this letter, wrought by fits of diseased laughter. I cannot seem to stop. I find myself in northern Montana, picking my way through the splendor of wilderness and idle spruce trees. I find it funny to think that my existence to the senses of vampires and humans alike elicits such offense, while here in the untouched eden of nature's unbridled sanctuary, animals large and small seem drawn to me without fear. What would Nietzsche say?

Morning's whisper found me bathing in a clear pool, alone and entranced by the beauty of Mother's kiss. She has created such wonder in the stoic silhouette of her mountains, while her breath dances in the tops of her trees and coerces a shiver from my body. Eagles and dragonflies seem intent on knowing my business in their world, but I would be a fool to act in harsh gestures against them. Somehow, I feel that perhaps this is the idyllic fascination that I've dreamt of for so long. That beyond winter's pale expression and Autumn's ever flowing swathe of color and promise, exists another form of grace. Could only a fool hope for such bliss?

The water caressed me in a fashion that I can't recall experiencing in any chapter of my life. The waterfall above draped itself around me, and I felt free. Free from the melancholy and the hate. Mother has worked her magic well to draw such feelings from my heart. If Gregor lives Astria, he has surely wandered into this embrace. How could he not?

Perhaps this is wishful thinking on my part. An old vampire's regret skimming the surface of a lie in order to find redemption, but some part of my brain wonders that if this is indeed so, how can I possibly hope to continue my search with conviction and not idealized daydreams?

This, as with the other letters, I write for myself. I do not intend to send them to you, or to Mara. Even here, with only a circling hawk above me as my witness, I cannot tell you why, for I truly do not know. I think to myself that were I to send these out to you, your resentment for me would grow stronger, and that I would fail in any attempts to shatter it upon my return. My, how odd a thing fear can be. Don't hate me Astria. None can hate me more than my own reflection.

I love you,
Lithium



"Astria, open your eyes. Look at the moon." Lithium's voice, serene and enticing. My eyes found strength enough to gaze into the night sky, and were astonished by how fragile everything seemed. The moon hung full in a sea of deep midnight blue, peppered with silver stars and majestic celestial bodies. It barely registered to me that I was laying nude on warm grass, cradled in Lithium's arms and feeling at peace for the first time in ages. My anger and my fear melted into the earth below me, echoes of their departure causing the glittering beauty above to quiver.

"Haven't I always told you that the stars sang for you alone? Listen to them, Astria." His lips were at my ear, urging me to give in, when I heard them. The stars were singing, a faint chorus riding the midnight shadows and settling in the trees. It was a symphony unlike anything I'd ever heard before, calling crickets and other voices to join in an erotic undertone of pleading sincerity. I felt as if I'd never be able to breathe or speak again. The melody was so beautiful, laced with carefully crafted twinges of sadness and promise, I found that I was weeping.

A blue finger brushed away a tear in a gentle and loving gesture, and my lips found his. It was a kiss born from need and separation. Shredded from existence for more than a year, defying fate to find one another again, and casting all but ourselves to the four winds. Lithium's skin rippled with colors vibrant and intriguing to the eye, such hues and shades, that I wondered if they had yet to find names bestowed upon them. The trees settled inward to greet us, and perhaps shield the world above from our lovemaking. I felt grateful of their discretion. This was our moment; my moment. The ground beneath became a playground, and Lithium and I explored every corner of it.

"Astria," he called my name, over and over. His eyes flashed into mine, and I saw urgency there.

"Astria," he was fading. He was almost an apparition. "Astria!"

I was convulsing, violently. My eyes were barely open, harsh sunlight raping my vision. I felt my fist collide with something, hearing a rather angry grunt follow the blow. Where the hell was I? Where was Lithium?

"Mara, hold her down!" Was that Matt's voice?

"I'm trying! She's too strong!"

"Try harder! I can't afford to have her hit me again. If I drop this..."

I could smell Mara's perfume, felt her hands searching my chest, cupping my breasts. She thrust the palms of her hands downward so hard, I wanted to buck her off of me, but I was suddenly unable to move. Whatever she had done to me had paralyzed me.

"What did you do to her?" Matt asked.

"She's Aericaen. I induced CPR. If her heart thinks it's about to be revived, her body will shut down long enough to try and make the heart follow. It's an Aericaen defense mechanism. Quick, give her the shot before she starts thrashing around again!"

Among the shouting and the pain, Lithium's visage still clung to my eyes like a ghost. It beginning to dissolve, and I didn't want him to leave. But he had left. Fourteen months ago, he walked out on our life.

"Astria!" Matt was looking down at me. "How do you feel?"

"Ow." It was all I could manage.

"The Kati's on their way. You're gonna be fine, I promise."

"I don't feel fine Matt. I feel like shit."

"Why did that thing attack you like that?" Mara's voice, but I couldn't see her.

My head felt heavy again, almost begging me to sleep. I couldn't sleep now. Sleep might bring death, and I wanted to know what that thing was. Above everything else just then, I needed to know. It had such a familiar smell, such familiar eyes. I was afraid that I already knew what it was.


I had barely noticed the Kati arrive when I'd blacked out again. I remember my father telling me long ago that Mark Twain himself had founded the Kati, but I never believed him. I could never bring myself to latch onto the idea that a great American author like Twain had established the first vampire hospital and emergency service, specifically designed to treat the undead and other supernatural entities. That was until he walked into my hospital room two days after I'd been attacked.

"Why, hello there your highness," he smiled. "How are we feeling today?"





© Copyright 2007 Lithium Black (lithium_black at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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