Evanescere: Origins (9 page)

ACK AND I SPENT OUR TIME
traveling through Europe. I knew it was only a matter of time before we made
our way back to the States. I was beginning to be accustomed to this new life
and have accepted that I can never be a part of my family’s life. It was just
safer this way, but I missed them so much.

We arrived in Mexico
almost two years after my new life. We visited the old pyramids in Mexico City.
We explored the caves, the
cenotes
and the mountains. I was excited about
going mountain climbing without the need for a harness. I knew that even if I
fell I would not die. It took me seconds to reach the peak. Once there, I would
just sit there, stare at the sky for hours and just think. Jack would join me
on occasion. I loved this peaceful country. The mountains and waterfalls were
amazing.

As we walked through
Mexico, yes walked, I noticed that if I looked at the mountain sides I could
see faces. I was astounded to see graffiti on one mountain face. It made me
wonder how simple mortals could have climbed plain mountain and have drawn on
it. We hunted through Mexico as well. I tasted mountain lions and bears. I
found that the carnivorous beasts were more appealing than the deer I had been
feeding on. They also kept me fuller longer that the herbivores.

We eventually made our
way to Northern Mexico when I decided to stay here, there was much to do. We
watched the news and plotted our hunting grounds. I could not stand the fact
that women were being murdered left and right. The authorities could not say
whether it was multiple suspects or just one. It appeared as though the body
count was rising by the hour.

We travelled to the
northern border town of Juarez. The town was large and had several shanty
towns. Other than that it was surrounded by dry desert. We walked around the
town at night. Although the people were poor they had much to live for, yet
many people were fearful of the bloodshed that was happening. Life here had
become desperate. It was in this border town where we found an open desert with
unknown women buried in shallow graves. All we did was follow the faint smell
of death that permeated the air. Humans could not detect such a scent unless
they were upon the graves.

Jack and I dug up several
graves and I wept when I realized how young these women were. Some were so
badly mutilated and decomposed that it was difficult to determine a cause of
death. Many of these women would never be identified or bring their loved one’s
closure. One question remained unanswered, why were these women being murdered.
I became enraged when I found one body, her belly was swollen with child. A
child who never received the chance to live, to breathe.

I was angry at my own
impotence. My inability to save them from such a fate. The body count here was
in the hundreds, maybe thousands. I had never seen this much hatred towards
women. The Devil was alive in Mexico. I wanted to take action, but Jack wanted
to make sure we did our homework properly and went after the guilty. Now we
were predators stalking our prey. I knew we should not interfere in mortal
affairs; however, the fact that women and children were not safe bothered me. I
had argued with Jack about this. How could the human government allow for these
atrocities to occur? I thought of my family and shared the heartache of women
like me with Jack. That convinced him fairly quickly.

Our goal was to get the
monsters committing these heinous acts by the end of this final month and off
we would go. We did not want to interfere for long so the others would not
notice our presence. Sadly, this did not happen. Like all things, our plans did
not go accordingly.

It was in early May, when
Jack and I were at the
Dos Compadres
bar drinking. The bar was in the
middle of a shanty town, it was made of cinderblocks with a tin and cardboard
roof. A picture of a can of Tecate beer was painted on the side along with a
red stripe around the small building. The bar had flimsy cheap square card
tables with metal folding chairs that had dents in them. We sat in the far
corner of the bar next to a wooden door leading to a disgusting room with a
hole in the floor for a toilet. From there we were able to watch our prey.

The music from the old
Jukebox was loud and sounded distorted. We were about to follow our prey when
we saw him. We got up and walked outside toward the alley way. We heard the
dogs barking in the distance. The music playing from the old stereos in the
shanties. Music made a person forget or express their emotions. The sad ballads
reminisced of lost loves. The vampire followed our scent into the alley. I
thought we might be in trouble for hunting on another vampire’s turf, but as it
turns out, our new fellow vampire was working on the same plan.

His name was Chief, a
tall, muscled Aztec warrior. I noticed the tribal tattoos that covered his bronze
body. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about our new comrade, well, he was, well,
crazy would be close to it. Chief was quite the gung ho type of vampire. The
Lone Ranger if you could call him that and he was glad for the help. According
to Chief, there were not many vampires hiding out in this part of Mexican
territory. After a brief discussion we followed Chief to his hacienda to
discuss some disturbing news he had.

As we ran, I gathered
from Chief’s thoughts that all was not well. As fast as he was killing his prey
there was enough idiots to refuel the gangs. The theory of supply and demand
obviously. The theory of survival of the fittest. This was it. I was on the
verge on losing all of my humanity to save the humans. With Chief’s help we
could hunt the worst sorts; however, there was always more to replace them.
After a few weeks of hunting, I don’t think we made enough of a difference.
More women were disappearing on a daily basis. I felt as though the authorities
were not doing anything to stop the rampant crime. I wanted to die for these
women.  

In reality, Chief did not
believe humans were responsible for the heinous crimes. He was under the
impression it may be a vampire committing such atrocities. He found it odd that
there was not known cause of death for them. He knew of the unacknowledged
graveyard and discovered a fresh corpse. The body had no visible trauma, and
from what he could tell there was a loss of blood with no open wounds. It was
his one lead, but even he admitted he did not know if his suspicions were
accurate without an autopsy. It was something Jack and I would take into
consideration, but without anything solid we did not believe it was another
vampire.

I would like to believe
that by the end of Summer I broke. I don’t know if it was out of madness, anger
or stupidity about what I chose to do. I went to a dress maker in Monterrey for
a special design. It was a long flowing orange to red hombre gown with matching
pants underneath, the sleeves were angel sleeves, peasant style, if you could
imagine it. I wore a pair of stilettoed boots. I did not plan on wearing this
dress on this day, I had something special planned. That is how I found myself
wearing this beautiful gown.

It was midday when I was
dressed in this beautiful gown. I was walking the streets of Monterrey shopping
in the open markets, when the gunshots rang out. The gunfire was loud and
clear. I could tell it went back and forth. I counted several guns of different
calibers. I was unsure how many people were involved. I followed the gunshots.
Bang. Bang. My hair was blowing in the wind. I am pretty sure I was a sight to
see. I found myself in the middle of a full drawn out gunfight between rivals.
I could smell the heavy aroma of the dying. Bodies covered the street. I stood
in the middle of the street and let out a scream of despair. It was long enough
to stop the gun fight. Long enough for the curious to look at my blood stained
face. Long enough for me to kill every man involved. They did not know what hit
them. They did not know how fast I struck. I snapped forty-five necks in less
than a minute. In the end, I heard a silence so loud. I heard the uncertainty
in the peoples step. Slowly the people began to emerge onto the streets.

I noticed many came out
of a café across from where I stood. My anger, my rage, my undoing. They stared
at me in wonder. I was crouched ready for the attack. Waiting for others to
show. No one did. The thoughts of the people began to break through my mind. I
slowly began to regain my composure afraid I would lose myself again. In my
rage I had let loose the monster inside.

I began to contain my rage and felt myself
actually begin to tremble from my own shock. Understanding slowly dawned on me.
I have done the unthinkable. I broke not just one rule, but many. I knew I
would pay for this day. Maybe deep down I had a death wish. I am just glad Jack
and Chief were not here to witness my crime, yet I feared Jack’s wrath. I am
sure he is on his way from the other side of Northern Mexico and without a
sound and lost in my thoughts I ran. I ran to Jack in shame. I ran before the
humans could see in which direction I had gone.
The word
Evanescere
,
to disappear, to fade, suddenly crossed my mind and so I simply vanished.

*****

It was near dark when Jack found me in the Sierra
Madre Oriental. I was desolate and broken on a giant boulder. I cried for what
I had done and begged his forgiveness. His hand on my shoulder gave me comfort,
this gesture always reassured me of his understanding. I looked down and my
gown was ruined.  

“Jack, say something, please, anything, yell at
me?” I begged him.

“You have done what many have not the courage to
do?” he gently responded.

“What courage was that? It was my rage. I took it
out on all of these people. I have ruined everything and risked exposing
ourselves.” I yelled. My voice rose several octaves. I wanted to crawl into a
hole and die of shame. If only it was that easy for me.

“I wouldn’t worry about exposure at this point.
You did what the humans could not do and I expect at this moment, they are
praying to an unknown Goddess,” he jokingly told me.

I could not help but smile at his joking manner.
It was just difficult for me to understand what had just happened. I was still
in shock and I felt ashamed. I felt as though I had let everyone down

“Was Chief upset?” I asked.

“Well, to be honest, he was more upset that he hadn’t
thought about it himself. Chief misses the action of the revolutionary wars in
Mexico and you took this small glory from him, but I think he was quite
impressed with what you did,” he informed me.

“I guess you felt what I did,” I hesitantly asked
him.

He pointed to his head to indicate he had seen it,
every horrible snap and he had felt my rage.

“Jack, how is it that you can see my actions and
feel my emotions?” I asked him. His reaction to my disgrace surprised me. I was
hoping to get some type of anger from him, but he was not even angry with me.
He seemed impressed with my supposed boldness.

“Not sure just yet. I think it is the connection
between us as creator and creation that allows this to be. You are the first I
have ever created in my six hundred years of existence,” he explained.

We returned to Chief’s hacienda in the mountains.
It was beautiful, I could hear the rushing sound of falling water and I
realized he had a waterfall in the back yard with a river rock paved stream. I
could smell the gardenias nearby the fresh scent was deliciously pleasing. I
heard the leaves blowing in the wind, the soft music of the Cicadas. Jack’s
voice interrupted my thoughts. He was on the phone making arrangements to
return to New Orleans. I wish I could believe all was well. I felt an anxiety I
was unsure of. As Jack’s child I knew I would be safe to a certain point. Our
main unspoken thought was if I had angered our Mother. We would know soon
enough, how soon could not be certain. Chief wished us luck and in the dark
night we drove the short distance to the airport in silence. On the outside I
appeared calm, serene without a worry in the world. On the inside, I was
terrified.

After a two-hour flight from Mexico we were finally
in New Orleans. We were home. It felt more like I had returned for a funeral.
What a somber experience? I was both ready to be home and yet I was not ready
to be tempted with having my family so close. I could only imagine what my
children look like. The memories of their face had long since faded. I no
longer knew what my own children looked like. I wish I knew how they were
doing, but for the time being they were safe from me.  

T HAD BEEN TWO YEARS SINCE
I had become a different breed. During this time Jack and I had travel the
world. In this time, I saw things I could only dream of as a human. Jack and I
both knew I would eventually have to face the consequences for my actions in
Mexico, it was just a matter of time. The wait was unbearable. We still did not
know if Lilith would rise to destroy me or pardon me. So we sat back and
enjoyed the time.

New Orleans was different
after we returned. In the time we had been gone a massive storm had destroyed
portions of New Orleans and the French Quarter was unrecognizable. Jack’s home
had been flooded and most of his possessions were destroyed. It was a good
thing we do not tire easily and we both were able to rebuild what was lost in
no time. We restored his beautiful home and in the end it looked just as
beautiful as it had before. It was a great feeling to be able to set aside my
worry and busy myself with this project.

Jack had made a generous
and anonymous donation to the city to be used to restore the French Quarter to
its former glory. I remember the first time when I heard the brassy trombones
and trumpets outside the window and I smiled. New Orleans would rise from the
ashes like the mythical Phoenix.

Jack and I both knew that
being in New Orleans would be a temptation for me. The temptation to see my
family once more was too great of a risk. I desperately wanted to see them
again to remember them again. I would gladly give my soul, my entire being to
Lilith just to see them one last time. Sadly, I had to face the truth that I
would always be a threat to them.

A few months after our
return to New Orleans I was walking through the French Quarter when I saw a long
since faded missing poster. I noticed the picture and it reminded me of the
woman I used to be. I was saddened by it. I continued my walk and joined the
revelers in this celebration of rebirth. It was taking time to rebuild, but the
love for the French Quarter was unprecedented. For the first time as a Vampire,
I saw the way humans could come together as a united front. I had grown tired
of the madness and I wondered how long this new peacefulness would last?

With the passage of time I
grew tired of seeing myself on the faded missing posters. I could no longer
avoid the temptation to see them that I finally made the decision to run to
Orange to see my family from a safe distance. I told myself I would just take a
peek at them and I would leave. I knew it was in haste to go especially without
telling Jack where I was headed. Jack never bothered me about my
extracurricular activities and I was grateful for it. It pained me that my
family had never given up me. I wondered, if I could not be there for them
physically, maybe I could help them in some other way.

I arrived outside my
former home and realized it was beginning to look rundown, the grass was
overgrown, the exterior needed paint, the window panes were coming off, and
green mold was beginning to cover the window. Axel must be falling apart. I
hope he had not given up on life, for the sake of the kids, I hoped not.

I sat outside my
daughter’s window on the limb of the giant oak tree, in the back yard. I was surprised
it was oak, since Orange has pine, and Spanish Moss. I saw my daughter and I
was surprised by how much she had grown, she was beautiful. She had the same
chocolate brown hair. Her hair was longer than what I remembered it to be. She
looked softer, rounded. My son walked into the room. He has short dark hair and
the same tanned complexion that I had. I realized he favored me. He was still
on the small side. For an eight-year-old he was perfect. He is growing up without
me, his mother. This bothered me. I jumped out of the tree and landed so
lightly you could not hear it. I ran back to New Orleans. This became my
nightly ritual for weeks. After my return I would avoid Jack’s concerned look.
I could not bear to look at him during these moments of weakness. It was times
like this that I wanted to hate him, but I could not bring myself to do it. It
was not his fault he did not do this to me. He saved me in a way that no one on
this earth would have been able to do. I had to admit to myself that I was
ashamed of my own thoughts and I knew that Jack was feeling them. 

I remembered it was a
Saturday night when I was perched on the oak tree. I was listening to their
silent voices, their somber conversations had no life. Their false laughter tore
at my heart. I saw my daughter walk into her room with tears in her beautiful
brown eyes. I had heard Axel’s frustration and anger when he spoke to the
children. From his thoughts I knew did not blame them, but he struggled with
having to see me in their sweet faces every day and this tortured him. They
were reminders of what life once was. They were broken and did not how to put
each other back together.

Jazz looked so sullen, so
broken. How do I fix this? How do I make this better for her, for them? I asked
myself repeatedly. I could not bear this anymore. I wanted to be there for them
and help them. I wanted my life back and there was nothing I could do to change
back the hands of time. What is done cannot be undone. I wanted to curl into
myself and cry like a child.

I continued to perch on
the tree, expanding my hearing to ignore their cries. I heard a small
whimpering in the distance. I jumped off the oak tree and walked toward the
sound. I must have gone three miles in less than a minute. Human eyes would not
have seen my movements. The sound got louder. It sounded wrong to be a baby, it
must be kittens I thought. As I approached the sound I realized it was not
kittens, but puppies. Chihuahua’s to be precise. I picked up a tan colored one,
with a small white patch of fur on its neck, paws and underbelly. I looked to
see, it was a girl.

While I held the puppy in
my hands, I heard the loud bark of an approaching dog, big by the sound of it.
I leapt out of its way and made my way with the puppy in my hands to the only
Wal-Mart in town open this late. I bought a black colored doggy bed with tan
paw prints, and a bright blue bow. Last time I checked my daughters favorite
color was blue. I also bought a small box of puppy food. I returned to the
house and I left the puppy and the supplies on the front porch with a small
note:

Please take care of my
Chloe.

I hope she brings the
light to your eyes.

I gently knocked on the
door and jumped to the roof and landed silently, no one the wiser. I heard Axel
open the door. Surprise in his voice when he answered it. I heard my daughter’s
excited voice asking to keep her new pet. I heard their wonder at who left such
a beautiful gift for them.

I knew I could be a part
of their lives without them knowing it. With tears of blood I made my way back
to New Orleans before the sun rose. Jack was their waiting for me at the door.
He had sensed my pain. I could not stand the tortured look on his face. Without
a word he took me in his arms and embraced me. He had seen what I had done. He
held me tight and cried with me.

He was not angry with me
the way I thought he would be. He was hurting there right with me. I was angry
with Jack, for his eternal patience, I wanted him to finally yell at me. I
wanted some type of emotion out of him. He must have sensed my emotions, he put
his hand to my chin to make me look at him. When I did, I relaxed and sobered
up, not much use crying over what cannot be helped.   

*****

The next day Jack and I
went to see an old attorney of his. Joyce Duval was a middle aged attorney with
the firm Blanchard, Blanchard, and Reeves. Joyce was the type of attorney, who
believed the little she knew the better. She was also gifted in that she could
produce for us the necessary documents for what I was about to do.

Jack, is gifting my
family enough money to last them a lifetime, and we planned on also having a
house built for them. All of this from an unknown relative who had willed me
everything. Poor aunt Fabricated Dora who did not know I was missing for the last
few years. 

I had hopes that they
would accept this gift. It was the least we could do for them. Joyce forged the
will, and was also given enough money to make the arrangement for the purchase
of a hundred acres and the construction of the house. The will and house to be
given to my family upon completion of the house to keep it legitimate. Living
in New Orleans, you were bound to find a few seedy attorneys. She placed the
money into trust to make is seem they had been looking for me for a while in
order to receive “my inheritance,” and since I am missing that automatically
goes to my family. Of course they will have to go through probate and Joyce is
being paid handsomely for her part.