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New York 1973
Cars bustled in the street; the city rejoiced. The world trade center's inauguration came with the hope of reviving a city in the clutches of gangs and criminals of all genres.
My ears no longer withstood the noises and the millions of voices that invaded my mind. Tetanized by the constant humming, my companions found refuge in the deep coves of Sugarloaf Mountain, which follows Devil's path, and Blackhead in the Catskills mountains. Their discomfort reverberated in me; the pact we have is that profound.
I fled the cold of Denmark for the warmth of the foreign metropole I was immune to until her death. My homeland held too many memories of my rise, executions, intestinal wars of the houses, and my exile.
Wry, lost in translation, and isolated, nothing satisfied me.
"Knock, knock."
His voice alone triggered a migraine.
"Vladislav."
"King, or can I call you Søren, now?"
"Have they voted?"
"Yes, congratulations, you are now part of the Strigoi Republic and free from your royal duties. All the houses from here to Zanzibar are choosing their senators, as you wish. May I ask you why you are abdicating?" Vlad winked at me and walked to the bar to serve himself a glace of Cognac.
"The world is changing, and so are we. Peace relies on a fragile treaty, which we can reinforce if all agree. Humans are now more numerous than any of us imagined. If we carry on like this, we will end up extinct like all the other species. All should validate the decisions concerning our species."
Vlad chuckled, "you answer, I was merely polite," he rose his glass in my direction," that's a speech for the fools of the council. Tell me the truth, why give up on so much. Why leave a peephole open for the Arcadius and all the other houses?"
The truth.
What about it? I could not tell him. I fled once more. A vulnerable king, I longed to be like the nameless souls who walked beneath us without care. Unaware of our presence, free from any lust and demons. The truth is, I wish to be free from immortality.
For a Strigoi, a vampire, as they call us, my thoughts were blasphemy.
Glowering, Vladislav did not hide his discontent as he gave me a crooked smile, which showed his fangs exactly like our father used to do.
My brother's ambitions for politics stopped that day on the balcony of Alva castle, as I demanded he played his part as my brother. Still, there is neither trust nor love between us.
"I see you liked my offering," Vlad said as he knelt next to my bed and lifted the motionless arm of the red-head lying on it to change the subject.
