Misery of the Vampire: A Vampire's Memoir (Complete).

Chapter twelve.

It didn't show at first, for after my selfish act she was completely numb. I by then was almost healed, a bit sore from recovering but I could manage. She on the other hand looked horrible. Pale with large baggy eyes, Emily appeared to be fresh from the grave. But I knew that fledglings appeared as corpses when they're first created, just like how newborn babies are wrinkled and ugly before maturing. I had to care for her as our roles reversed, but she had become distant towards me. For a few days Emily refused to speak. She'd only allow me to feed her, bathe her and brush out her hair. I did not realize the trauma she was going through until it was too late. 

I had to travel again for I was in search of Carol, and as her mother I could not go a day without thinking of my baby. Her call for me was becoming stronger, and it was tortuous when I could not move and was bedridden. But now I could come to her, but also with the responsibility of a new vampire in my hands. But I felt blessed that my beloved Emily would be alive instead of the cancer within her lungs taking her away from me. Even if she hated me, I gave my love to her regardless. When I left for the call's source, Emily refused to come with. My morality told me not to leave her behind, she was young in the vampire sense and just starting out. But the more I tried to convince her, the more she'd push me away and shut me out. 

Finally, I had enough of this but made sure that she knew what to do during my absence. I departed the place I have called home for sometime, and made my way towards the calling of Carol. Upon swift feet I travelled, feeling my inner strength return as Emily's blood was still coursing through my veins. I wanted it to stay there, to become a part of me even though I knew it would flush itself out soon. Maybe that is why I put off feeding for as long as I could. Emily's voice could be heard in my head on occasion, cursing myself for what I had done. There were visions of blood and death from her, I knew that she was up to terrible things as revenge. But I did not stop, nor could I as my instincts carried me towards my daughter. Within my sleep I could hear her silent pleas for help, the pain in her voice kept me up at daylight. 

I could not take flight yet, but I was able to swiftly move throughout the country side. One night I arrived in France, closer than ever to my final destination. I took refuge within a small street side taverne while sitting amongst humans, or so I thought. If my memory is correct, I was in Paris. The war had ended not too long ago, and I could still sense the remnants of its German invaders. At the bar I could hear the conversations of people as words were exchanged about my appearance with those whispering in secrecy. I could care less, even though I wore nothing more than a suit and trenchcoat of pure black. Vampires prefer the colour black due to it as a symbol of our darkness and hiding blood stains.

 I stared down into my drink and thought of my two children. Where did I go wrong as their father? Was I even their father to begin with? These questions fought within my own head as I barely noticed a shift in presence beside myself. 

From the corner of my eye I could see locks of golden hair as they were long and loose. I could hear a crisp, clear voice speaking in an accent that I could not recognize. At first I felt intimidated, this person did not feel human, but they also didn't feel vampire. My curiosity was short lived once another person sat by my otherside. This time it was a vampire, and I could feel her stare into me. She had platinum hair braided back and a smug expression upon her face, her mouth wrinkled with age. I could tell she was older, but age did not define her beauty in which she had. Even if she petite and small, I could still feel a danger within her. She raised her boney hand to order a drink, and then pointed to me as the bartender filled a glass full of a spiced smelling drink as he placed it before myself. 

"You are foreign, no? I have not seen the likes of you in this area."

 She spoke in a nearly raspy voice, one that did not fit her own appearance. I gave a curt nod before attempting to sip, the alcohol burning down my throat as I visibly cringed in pain. She laughed in hysterics, before swiping the drink from my hand and downing it within a few seconds. For some context, my dear reader, most vampires cannot digest the foods that humans eat nor can we handle the liquor that is brewed by human hand. But this woman, she was unfazed. She gave me a smirk before crossing her legs under her skirt as she flashed her fangs for a moment. 

"You know it's dangerous to be a vampire above ground, no? Even after the war we are still sought out by the church." 

Her hand began to fidget with the pearls around her neck. They entwined between her frail looking fingers while glittering within the soft lights. It was then I noticed the scar upon the palm of her left hand. It was these small things about this woman that would add up later on. I'm not sure why, perhaps I had the desire for a thrill, but I followed her out of the bar and into the streets. By then it was the night, rain was pouring down as thunder rolled. On nights like these I would be hidden away, but my elder companion seemed to enjoy herself as she casually walked through the cobblestone streets. She led me through alleyways, busy streets and silent places until we stopped under a street light. Below us was a man hole that lead to the sewer system, but it had caught her eye as she fidgeted with it before prying it open. 

Her gnarled hands pulled it up to reveal a black abyss of darkness. I peered down into it, before fabric fluttered as she fell into it and disappeared within blackness. I debated on whether to follow her or not, Carol was still my top priority and bringing her back home, wherever home maybe. But something pulled me, someone was calling for me and I couldn't not answer the call. I followed suit and leapt down the hole and landed upon wet stone. At first I only sensed them, their presence surrounding us. But as my eyes slowly adjusted, I could see clearly what tied the spirits down below Paris streets. 

The walls were bone, all of it. We were surrounded by nothing but bones and the stone beneath our feet. She took me by the hand suddenly and pulled me down the corridors with the movement of her swift little feet. I could hear her heels clicking and echoing off the walls. With one sharp turn we were suddenly in a room, but were not it's' only occupants.