Immortals: Slovakia

Nala

My name is Nala, and I am immortal. I have lived for more than two million years, witnessing the rise and fall of civilizations, the evolution of humanity, and the changes of the world. But I was not always like this. I was once a normal woman, living in a small tribe of hunter-gatherers in Africa, during the time when the first skulls with modern features appeared.

I remember the day I was turned. It was a hot and dry afternoon, and I was out with my mate, collecting fruits and nuts from the trees. We were happy and in love, planning to have a child soon. We did not notice the shadow that followed us, nor the strange scent that filled the air. It was too late when we heard the growl behind us. We turned around and saw a huge beast, unlike any animal we had ever seen. It had a human-like body, but covered with fur and scales. It had long claws, sharp teeth, and glowing red eyes. It was a vampire, one of the ancient ones, who had survived the extinction of their kind.

It attacked us without mercy, tearing my mate apart with its fangs. I screamed and tried to run, but it was faster. It grabbed me by the neck and bit me, injecting its venom into my veins. I felt a surge of pain, followed by a strange sensation. I felt my body changing, becoming stronger, faster, and more resilient. I felt my mind expanding, gaining new insights and memories. I felt a hunger growing inside me, a thirst for blood. I realized what was happening. I was becoming a vampire, too.

The beast let me go and looked at me with a twisted smile. It spoke to me in a language I did not understand, but somehow I could comprehend. It said it had chosen me as its companion, that it had sensed something special in me, that it wanted to share its eternity with me. It said it would teach me everything it knew, show me the wonders of the world, and make me the queen of the night. It said it loved me.

I looked at it with horror and disgust. I did not want any of this. I did not want to be a monster, to kill and feed on innocent lives, to lose my humanity and soul. I did not want to leave my tribe, my family, my friends. I did not want to forget my mate, who lay dead on the ground, his blood staining the soil. I did not love this beast, who had taken everything from me. I hated it.

I gathered all my strength and courage, and I fought back. I clawed at its face, bit its throat, and kicked its groin. I ran away, as fast as I could, hoping to find a way to end my curse. But it was futile. The beast was stronger and faster than me, and it caught up with me easily. It grabbed me again, and this time, it did not let me go. It said it was sorry, that it did not mean to hurt me, that it only wanted me to be happy. It said it would make me forget, make me love it, make me its. It said it would never let me go.

And it did not. It took me away, far from my home, far from everything I knew and loved. It made me travel with it, across continents and oceans, through different eras and cultures. It made me see the beauty and the horror of the world, the glory and the misery of humanity. It made me learn new languages, new skills, new secrets. It made me kill and feed, over and over, until I lost count of the lives I had taken. It made me forget my past, my identity, my self. It made me love it, or at least, think I did.

But I never truly forgot. Deep inside me, there was a spark of resistance, a flicker of memory, a whisper of hope. I waited for a chance, a moment of weakness, a slip of attention. I waited for a way to escape, to be free, to end my suffering. And after thousands of years, I finally found it.

It was in Bratislava, the capital of Slovakia, where we had settled for a while. It was a modern and vibrant city, full of life and culture. We lived in a luxurious penthouse, overlooking the Danube river and the castle. We blended in with the society, pretending to be wealthy and influential. We had everything we wanted, except happiness.

One night, we went to a party, hosted by one of our friends, a fellow vampire. It was a lavish and decadent affair, with music, dancing, and drinking. There were many guests, both human and vampire, and we mingled with them, smiling and chatting. But I was bored and restless, longing for something more, something real. I excused myself and went to the balcony, hoping to get some fresh air.

I looked at the city lights, and I felt a pang of sadness. I wondered what my life would have been like, if I had not been turned. I wondered if I would have had a child, a family, a legacy. I wondered if I would have been happy. I sighed and closed my eyes, wishing for a miracle.

And then, I heard it. A voice in my head, clear and familiar. It was my mate, the one who had died so long ago. He spoke to me, with love and tenderness. He said he had been watching over me, waiting for me, praying for me. He said he was sorry for what had happened to me, that it was not my fault, that I did not deserve this. He said he still loved me, and he wanted me to be free. He said he had found a way to end my curse, to break the bond between me and the beast. He said he would help me, guide me, protect me. He said he would be with me, always.

I opened my eyes, and I felt a surge of joy. I could not believe it. It was a miracle. My mate was alive, in spirit, and he had come to save me. I looked around, and I saw a sign. A cross, made of silver, hanging from a necklace on a human woman's neck. It was the symbol of the Christian faith, a religion that had emerged long after I was turned. It was also the weakness of the vampires, a metal that could burn and harm them. It was the weapon I needed, the key to my freedom.

I approached the woman, and I smiled at her. I complimented her on her necklace, and I asked if I could see it. She was flattered and naive, and she agreed. She took off the necklace and handed it to me. I thanked her and put it on. I felt a slight pain, as the silver touched my skin, but I ignored it. I walked back to the balcony, and I looked for the beast.

He was still inside, talking to another vampire. He did not notice me, or the cross around my neck. I waited until he was alone, and then I called his name. He turned around and saw me. He smiled and walked towards me. He did not see the cross, either. He reached me and hugged me. He kissed me and whispered in my ear. He said he loved me, and he asked me if I was ready to go.

I looked at him, and I felt nothing. No love, no hate, no fear, no pity. Only emptiness. I nodded and said yes. I said I loved him, too. I lied. I took the cross from my neck, and I stabbed him in the heart. He gasped and looked at me with shock and betrayal. He asked me why. I did not answer. I pushed him off the balcony, and I watched him fall. He hit the ground, and he burst into flames. He was gone.

I felt a wave of relief, followed by a wave of pain. The cross had pierced my heart, too, and it was burning me from the inside. I felt my body weakening, my senses fading, my mind shutting down. I knew I was dying, and I welcomed it. I was free.

I collapsed on the floor, and I closed my eyes. I saw my mate, waiting for me, smiling at me. He said he was proud of me, that I had done it, that I had freed us both. He said he was sorry for the pain I had endured, that he wished he could have spared me from it. He said he was happy, and he asked me if I was, too.

I smiled and said yes. I said I was happy, and I meant it. I said I loved him, and I asked him to hold me. He said he loved me, too, and he held me. He kissed me and whispered in my ear. He said we were together, and we would never be apart. He said we were going home.

And we did.