*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1633406-Bloodborn-Memoir-Prologue
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Gothic · #1633406
Zahira and her little coven finally encounters the very day every vampire dreaded of.
Prologue



         All of what you think you know about vampires, you may probably want to set it aside once you read what I will say. Since humans have created stories, folklore, and mythology about vampires, perhaps they know we exist already and we were not just a fancy figment of their imagination. How could they come up with such vile creatures who would drain blood from human beings just to live a long life that would withstand time? Maybe they have got a seriously wide imagination, or maybe they knew about our existence for a reason... But more likely, they knew through observation. How else could they make up such vast imaginative stories about ageless creatures who drink blood from living creatures in order to obtain a long, endless life? It's because we drink their blood, and we cause the death of your loved whom we thoroughly sucked life out of. It does make sense... after all, my kind--the vampires--are real. That is why people make stories about us and pass it on several generations after another, scaring the wits out of children by telling them that vampires would attack if they do not go home early.



         My little coven is not what most would expect to be the typical vampires. We live like carefree young adults who make a living out of simple jobs and reside in a  small apartment where we had to share that only bed in the only bedroom found in that apartment. My coven is composed of Vitali and hybrids, who could digest human food, and we could still eat what humans eat without causing suspicion to our visitors (and we do admit that human food is quite delicious, but it couldn't match up to our essential drink--blood). There are two Vitali and two hybrids: Rylan and I are Vitali, pure vampires who aren't truly immortal but could bear long lives, while Adrin and Javier are the two hybrid vampires who live with us.



         That day, the ninth of September 2009, was almost like every other day we had ever since 1984. Or so we thought, because it was the day we've forgotten about--and now we regretted being careless towards its danger.



         It all started around five o'clock that day. I was about to go to work (to the bar), while Adrin and Javier came home from John Codenmore University. Adrin was worn out from a fencing class and Javier's eyes were tired from all the research for his term paper, so I prepared spaghetti with meatballs for them. (We were almost out of blood then, so we have to be careful about dividing the supply between ourselves--or else rough competition will likely occur.) Adrin discussed how his day went, starting from the usual ramblings of his mentor to suggestive sword jokes he'd been telling Javier all day. Though we are used to his nature of joking, sometimes he was borderline disgusting. But no matter how disgusting, we were all laughing hysterically, because his jokes were never bland. Even the cynical Rylan seemed to enjoy this laugh trip we had.



         "My nose!" Javier said in the midst of the high laughter. "Adrin, better lay down those jokes for a while. Even a hybrid's lungs couldn't take this anymore!"

         Adrin snorted jokingly. "Oh come on! I'll pay for your gills transplant. It will work with your partial-vampiric blood. You can swim across all of the three oceans!"

         "Muy gracioso..." Javier rolled his hazel eyes. "Humans can't have gills, Ad..."

         "But you're not human, Javs!" Adrin raised his arms and made some mocking dramatic gesture. "You're a hybrid! A vampire-human hybrid that is! Your va--" But then he was cut off when Rylan turned on the TV, and then I froze because of what I saw.

         "Zahira," Rylan asked. "Are you all right?"

         "What's the matter, Z?" Adrin looked back and forth from me to the TV.



         What I saw on TV was a press conference. It occured in a huge auditorium with decorations of black and red streams. Camera flashes were everywhere, and so where chatterbox reporters. Some video cameras were set, some shaking because of the excitement the person holding it has. There were about ten thousand reporters or even more, for the whole auditorium was packed and there was slight pushing and shoving. They were all overzealous, especially by who was on the stage--four men, the members of the band Vagabonds with Rifles. One was lanky with mousy brown hair--that's the guitarist. Another one, the bassist, was a blond-haired, short and plump. The drummer, the one beside him was ordinary--black hair, average height, average physique, and some tan. But the last one, the youngest among them and the lead vocalist--hairy arms, long brown hair in a ponytail, a muscular body, and a pair of aquamarine eyes I could never forget--was the most familiar among all of them, and he was the exact reason why I froze on my chair.



         He's Sebastian Levive, and I know more of him. He's not only the lead singer of that famous band, but he's also my fledgling. My first fledgling, to be exact, and also my "true love"... or so I thought. There he was, wearing a biker jacket, and underneath was a grey shirt with a hand flipping "The Bird" on it. His blue jeans were quite acid-washed and shredded, giving off that "rockstar" vibe he's trying do pose. But I can't call him poseur--his music is good, even though I'm not a fanatic of it, ironically.



         A bespectacled blond-haired man in his late 30's came on stage. I heard Sebastian calling him "Mark". This must be Mark Rogers, their manager whom they often credit on their albums.



         Mark began to talk on the podium. "You see, Vagabonds with Rifles has just released their new album, 'Drink The Venom If You Wanna Live Longer'. We're here to talk about it. First, if you're going to ask the bandmates about their personal lives--get the--" a censor bleeped. "--out. Next, do not anything unrelated to them. That's just--" another censor bleeped again. "We're opening the press-con now. First one..." he pointed to a reporter with horn-rimmed glasses. "That guy with horn-rimmed glasses over there."



         The man with horn-rimmed glasses inquired, pushing his glasses which looked like it would fall. "What's with the title of your album?"

         The drummer said. "It's all about vampires this year." A frenzy of reporters took note of that.

         Mark pointed to a voluptous blonde. "Um... you?"

         "Why vampires?" The woman raised her overly done eyebrow, and I heard Adrin snicker.

         "Um... they're the..." the guitarist made airquotes--"...'in thing' of 2009, right?"

         "Hell yeah!" the drummer agreed. Several questions flooded here and there, all about the album and the future gigs they might do. "Hurrah." Rylan sarcastically said while his eyes were forming slits, indicating his boredom. He was never a fan of rock music, for he was trained by his mother to like the classics, oldies, and jazz. Javier was quite bored too, but it's because he's not really into the band. He's a very big fan of Broadway musicals, and rock doesn't please him much.



         The next reporter, a stumpy woman holding her recorder, asked Sebastian what happens to be the question that my coven froze to. "There are several rumors out there on the internet that you're a vampire, Mr. Levive. They took notice of your teeth, your skin, and several other physical details. In one of the behind the scenes of your videos, "Flying From What I Love", you 'flew' without any kind of visual effects or strings hanging from your back. Another is during in one of your concerts, where you flew up high--around thirty-five feet high--in the sky, and the crowd was so amazed. The video of it was posted in Youtube and reached 20 million hits! So what do you say about all of this, Mr. Levive?"



         There was a pause. The whole auditorium's noise died along with the frenzy of the reporters. The camera zoomed in on Sebastian, who remained calm despite the faces the reporters wore--faces of different emotions: may it be shock, fear, or excitement. The whole silence lasted for around five minutes. Mark seemed to know what Sebastian was, for he was mouthing to him something that seemed like: "Are you going to tell them now?" No, Sebastian, don't listen to him! I'll bet this Mark doesn't even know of the Prophecy of the Fall. Sebastian must have--no, it's definitely--lied to him.



         "Don't he dare..." Rylan grined between his fangs. Everyone of us was against Sebastian now. Adrin trembled, scared of what will Sebastian will say. He wrapped himself with his denim jacket, which trembled along with his thin body. Javier, being the smart one of our bunch, didn't react but instead, his face displayed the feeling of anger with his glaring eyes and the tips of his eyebrows were no farther to each other by a quarter of an inch. He tapped his fingers on the table, as to make the chirping noises of the cricket. But me, I simply rolled my eyes. I knew what was done cannot be undone, which means I cannot turn back time and decide not just to ignore Sebastian. That would be some illogical bullshit, and now I must face the consequences of creating Sebastian Louis Levive, the vampire who will cause the downfall of all vampires--and the awakening of the Monarchs. So I just sat there, looking at the TV, and simply watched what Sebastian was about to say. Adrin held his breath, and there it went--



         "I'm a vampire."
© Copyright 2010 O. E. Germino (oegermino at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1633406-Bloodborn-Memoir-Prologue