Immortals: Slovakia

Koba

My name is Koba. I was born in a time when the world was young and wild, when humans lived in small bands of hunters and gatherers, when fire was a precious gift and stone was our only tool. I was born in a place that is now called Africa, but back then it had no name. It was just the land, the home of our ancestors.

I don't remember much of my early life, only flashes of images and sensations. I remember the warmth of the sun, the smell of the grass, the taste of fresh meat, the sound of laughter and singing, the touch of my mother's hand. I remember the joy of running, the thrill of hunting, the fear of predators, the pain of wounds, the sorrow of death. I remember the love of my family, my friends, my mate.

I don't know how old I was when it happened. Maybe twenty, maybe thirty, maybe more. I don't know how long we lived back then. I only know that I was young, and strong, and happy. And then everything changed.

It was a day like any other. We were following a herd of antelopes, hoping to catch one for dinner. We had been tracking them for hours, and we were getting closer. We were a dozen of us, men and women, armed with spears and stones. We were ready to strike.

But we were not alone. There was another hunter in the savanna, one that we had never seen before. One that we could not have imagined. One that would change my fate forever.

It was a beast, a monster, a nightmare. It was larger than a lion, but faster than a cheetah. It had fur like a hyena, but teeth like a crocodile. It had claws like a bear, but horns like a buffalo. It had eyes like a hawk, but a roar like a thunder. It was a creature of legend, a creature of horror, a creature of death.

It came out of nowhere, like a flash of lightning. It attacked the antelopes, tearing them apart with ease. It killed them all, one by one, leaving behind a trail of blood and bones. It did not eat them, it did not need them. It killed them for sport, for fun, for pleasure.

We watched in terror, frozen in place. We did not know what to do, what to think, what to feel. We had never faced such a foe, such a threat, such a danger. We were helpless, hopeless, doomed.

And then it saw us. It turned its head, and fixed its gaze on us. It smiled, a wicked grin that showed its fangs. It licked its lips, a hungry gesture that made us shiver. It growled, a low sound that made us tremble. It charged, a swift movement that made us panic.

We ran, we scattered, we fled. We tried to escape, to survive, to live. But it was too fast, too strong, too smart. It caught us, it cornered us, it killed us. It killed them all, one by one, leaving behind a trail of blood and bones. It killed them for sport, for fun, for pleasure.

Except me. It did not kill me. It did something worse.

It bit me.

It bit me in the neck, piercing my skin, breaking my bones, tearing my flesh. It bit me in the neck, injecting its venom, spreading its curse, changing my nature. It bit me in the neck, and then it let me go.

It let me go, and it laughed. It laughed, a cruel sound that echoed in my ears. It laughed, and then it left. It left, and it never came back.

I don't know why it did that. I don't know why it spared me. I don't know why it chose me. I don't know what it was. I don't know what it wanted. I don't know what it made me.

All I know is that it changed me. It changed me forever.

I did not die. I could not die. I healed. I survived. I lived.

But I was not the same. I was not human. I was not mortal. I was not natural. I was something else. Something new. Something different. Something immortal.

I soon realized that I was not alone. There were others like me, others who had been bitten, others who had been changed, others who had been cursed. They called themselves vampires, and they called me their brother. They taught me their ways, their secrets, their laws. They showed me their world, their history, their culture. They offered me their friendship, their loyalty, their blood.

But I did not belong. I did not fit in. I did not feel at home. I missed my people, my life, my soul. I hated what I had become, what I had lost, what I had done. I rejected their offer, their bond, their blood. I left them, and I wandered.

I wandered for centuries, for millennia, for eons. I saw the world change, grow, evolve. I saw empires rise and fall, civilizations flourish and decay, cultures merge and clash. I saw wars and peace, love and hate, life and death. I saw wonders and horrors, beauty and ugliness, light and darkness. I saw it all, and I learned it all.

But I did not care. I did not enjoy. I did not live. I existed, and I endured. I endured the loneliness, the boredom, the guilt. I endured the hunger, the thirst, the pain. I endured the sun, the fire, the stake. I endured the hunters, the slayers, the enemies. I endured it all, and I survived it all.

But I did not want to. I did not want to exist. I did not want to endure. I did not want to survive. I wanted to die. I wanted to end. I wanted to rest.

But I could not. I could not die. I could not end. I could not rest. I was immortal, and I was cursed.

And so I am here, in this city, in this time, in this place. I am here, in Bratislava, in the present day, in this bar. I am here, telling you my story, my history, my tragedy. I am here, hoping you will listen, hoping you will understand, hoping you will help.

I am here, asking you to kill me.