Immortal Storm (9 page)

Without knowing she was doing it, she was on her feet and running blindly through the unfamiliar house. She had to get out of here; she had to run away. Foolishly she thought if she could escape this place, this story, then maybe she could flee this life. She had to get out of here before Michael could catch her and stop her. She ran down the hall. Dead end. Dori turned around looking for another door, one that would lead away from here.

“
Use the window.”

Not stopping to question the voice she heard, she obeyed. She flung the window open so hard it shook in the sash and she threw herself into the cold air. It was pitch black in the wintery evening and she was falling. Again she choked down nausea as she was reminded of her dream. She was losing her touch on reality again.

“
Not the same. Go!”

Dori recognized the familiar voice, but she was running too fast to think about whom it belonged to. As her feet hit the ground, she was already running. She was headed toward a thick forest that flanked Michael’s house.

Although she wasn’t certain where she was, she trusted her senses and she shot into the forest like a bullet. She ran like an escaped prisoner chased by rabid guard dogs gnashing at her heels. Darting over the freshly fallen snow, she was moving so quickly, her feet left no mark. She maneuvered over exposed roots and under low branches and she was shocked by her newfound agility. She had always been athletic, but weaving through the forest like this was beyond human ability. Between breaths, she began to sense that she wasn’t being followed and the urgency of her escape waned. She slowed to a jog and finally stopped completely, listening to the sounds around her. The night was absolutely silent. She heard nothing but her own shallow breaths punctuating the quiet darkness.

Standing on the top of a small knoll, she was amazed at how stealthy she was. She had already run a few miles and didn’t show the slightest sign of fatigue. The physical agility that came with this new life was exhilarating. She stopped short. What was she running from? Michael? He wasn’t following. She realized that she was running from herself – from what she had become. Very quickly she saw the futility of her situation.

Michael was a manipulative monster. He had convinced her to agree to this fate without fully explaining it. She had consented as she lay battered and vulnerable in the ambulance. She was a monster now, too. No matter how far she traveled, she couldn’t outrun the reality of her existence. This was life, forever. She fell to her knees on the cold, snowy forest floor. Her head bowed until her chin rested on her chest, her shoulders drooping under the weight of what had happened that day. She had only half-truths. What exactly was she?

The last piece of her memory fell into place and she came to a startling conclusion. She had a
new
life. That meant her old life was over, every part of it. Her family must think she was dead. She wouldn’t be able to see Layla or Dahlia agai Sr Dund n. She wouldn’t hear their laughter, or kiss their silken cheeks. She wouldn’t be able to tell them just how much she loved them. Going back home was impossible; she had no home. She had nothing. She choked, thinking of her box of memories, realizing she would never again hold those treasures or the loved ones they represented. There was nothing left for her to lose. Nothing could cause her more pain.

She tried to think other thoughts. She couldn’t bear to open the floodgate of grief again this day. She kept coming back to what she was so desperately trying to escape. She was thinking about Michael’s “new beginning”. What did that mean? Could it be true that she was immortal? Living forever, grieving forever for the loss of those most precious to her. Perhaps this was Hell. A place where her beautiful girls were so close, but she would never feel their warmth again. Dori could think of no worse punishment.

She was too lost in her reverie to notice how eerily silent the forest was. The normal teeming of animals had stopped as if they were hunkered down, prepared for impending danger. One of the ancient maples cracked in the cold, night air and the sound echoed in Dori’s new ears. It jarred her out of her thoughts like a gunshot. Startled by the sound, she jumped instinctively. Apparently jumping was as easy as running. Without realizing the true extent of her physical prowess, she found herself sitting on a branch toward the top of a nearby pine tree. She was stunned by the height of her jump. Instantly her eyes locked with those of a motionless barn owl only an arm’s length away. Without slackening its glance, the owl began to unfold its wings to flee. Not wanting to be alone in the dark once more, Dori said, “No!” Obediently, the bird settled back on the branch; both were surprised by its submission.

Dori studied the majestic bird, noticing its absolute beauty. The large black eyes were deep pools that opened to the soul of this calculating hunter. The eyes that normally wore the hard gaze of the predator, now showed the timid, wide-eyed stare of the prey. Its stark white face revealed no other feature, only the consuming eyes, pleading with her for mercy. She was puzzled by this strange expression. Somehow noticing the moment of distraction, the bird spread its wings to take flight again and Dori saw rows of tan and gold feathers. It was as if she had never seen the breadth of the color spectrum before. She was mesmerized by the pattern of deeper and more subtle browns playing on the stunning bird’s wings.

Two things became apparent to Dori simultaneously. First, she was ravenously thirsty. That thought was odd to her. She was dying to quench the thirst accosting her mouth and throat. The parched feeling was beyond irritating, it was painful. The need to satisfy the burning in her core was like no other. She doubted she had felt need in her whole existence until this moment. The world was spinning; satisfying this longing within her had become primordial.

The second thing Dori noticed was that the bird was now going to fly away. She couldn’t let that happen. The yearning to drink possessed her to the point that she was no longer consciously in control of her actions. Her instincts told her not to let the owl get away. Without thinking, she had reached out and captured the bird; it had already begun flapping its wings in preparation for flight. Before she could blink the magnificent flapping beast was pressed against her face and she was inhaling its woody scent. Her mouth was biting wildly at its flesh and finally finding purchase, she drank in the hot, thick liquid with deep pleasure. She was wild, completely overtaken by her senses a S hethis nd giddy from the animal’s fear. She swallowed eagerly, barely pausing to breathe. Disappointment set in when she felt the owl’s life drain away.

The bird’s struggling had stopped. She opened her eyes and saw the beautiful creature laying motionless in her grasp. Its lovely white features had been defaced by dark crimson streaks of blood. Dori’s hands were also covered with sticky warmth. What had she done? Her mouth was filled with the metallic flavor as she ran her tongue across the back of her teeth.

Panicked, she dropped the owl and heard it thud lifelessly on the forest floor. She buried her face in her hands, noticing immediately that her messy meal was smeared across her cheeks too. The owl’s blood coursed through her, warming her ever so slightly. She was repulsed by her actions. She had taken the bird’s life to satisfy her needs. The thought of blood in her mouth induced a wave of nausea, but worse than that, she craved more. The owl had been a mere appetizer to whet her desire. She dropped lithely from the tree branch and her landing was barely audible as she sank to the snowy ground once more. Dori hunted.

Rather than run blindly this time, she stalked something nearby. The sound came from underground. A rabbit was shivering in its shallow den. She dropped to all fours as she approached the hole; the rabbit had no time to flee. There was no sport in this kill: she reached in, her hand cloaked in the darkness of night, and pulled the furry creature out by the back of its neck. She bit in hungrily and gulped down the animal’s blood, pausing for a moment near the end to remark that the earthy flavor of the rabbit was different from the owl’s. She threw the tiny corpse back into its hole and was immediately hunting again. She was not yet satisfied.

Dori wanted something bigger; a challenge. She enjoyed the wild moment before the kill almost as much as the warmth that flowed through her as she satisfied her need. Dori forced herself to focus on the forest; she was seeking out something bigger. Farther away, she could hear the anxious pacing of a larger animal. Its breath came too quickly; it was nervous. The animal’s unrest excited Dori. She had found her next victim and she took off in its direction at break-neck speed. As she approached, the coy dog yelped a warning to its pack. She had lost the element of surprise. Several dogs were backing away from Dori as she stepped out from behind a tree to face them. The one she had first heard stood closest to her, challenging her on behalf of the pack. As she stared at this animal, he bared his teeth in defiance. Every insolent action thrilled her. The pack fled, but the dog never looked away. Dori spoke to it.

“That’s right, you stay. I wonder how you taste!” The dog twisted its head as if it was trying to understand her words. It looked nervously behind itself, perhaps wishing it too had fled.

“No. You are a hunter too, come and do your best!” she taunted the animal. The dog charged, a growl erupting from deep in its belly. She bent her knees, ready to absorb the impact; her eyes were wild with excitement. The coy dog leapt into the air aiming for her neck.

“Oh no, Doggy! That’s my job.” She caught him in mid-air; one hand snapped the dog’s muzzle shut and turned its head away. Her other hand wrestled the dog’s flank, exposing its muscular neck. For the third time that night, she ripped into a vein and glutted herself on blood. This one fought until its dying breath, which only heightened Dori’s pleasure.

A while later, intoxicated and warm, a euphoric sensation enveloped her. She lay a few feet from the body of her last victim; the dog had been bigger than she realized. Staring at the stars, happiness overwhelmed her. Bloated and satiated, she let her mind wander.

A nagging suspicion was trying to force its way into her mind. In an effort to deny her fate, she again looked at the evidence she had witnessed today. Michael’s words rang in her mind and paralleled her experiences tonight. Her injuries, despite being severe, had healed. Running now came as easily as breathing. She had jumped high enough and quickly enough to startle a bird of prey in the top of a tree. The coy dog had done its best, but it only succeeded in nourishing her bloodlust. There was only one story that encompassed all of these traits. It couldn’t be true; she refused to believe it. The more her mind repeated it, the more she denied it, but the more it became clear that it was the only explanation.

Was it possible that Michael had the same abilities and cravings? The name of this monster was on the tip of her tongue, too perverse to pronounce. Wrestling with her thoughts, she hoped it was all a bad dream. These things didn’t exist; this must all be part of that horrible dark and frigid place where she was trapped. This wasn’t happening. She was perilously close to the despair she had felt in the black isolation of her nightmare. Her mind was close to snapping. The reality of her existence was unbearable. A voice, one that had helped her earlier that night, was trying to calm the terror building inside, trying to help her accept her new fate. Although it was only present in her mind, the voice seemed to echo through the night.

“
You will forever exist between life and death.”

Chapter Ten

March 23, 1598

I fear I shan
’
t keep writing much longer as my enemie is determined to emerge victorious from this battle. One darke nighte blends in with the next. I am forced to submit to the demon who created me; a demon who feeds not only on the bloode of the living but also on their fright. What a sad, sad fate has befallen me. Impossible it is to separate the fiend I have become from the man I once were. If there was but a way to make it ende, a way to keep from killing, perhaps I would be able to bear this eternal hell.

Since the colony is now loste to the bloodletting, the one who made us all has loosed us on the natives that remain. He prefers to attack at the height of their pagan rituals. Dread fuels his luste. A more evil being I have never encountered, but at laste I can put name to face. Our malevolent leader is none other than Mr. Barwicke, set upon torturing all those he encounters. We will forever succumbe to the hunger he felt in the laste days of his life.

If indeed I am cursed to this terrible fate, the drive to overcome my creator is all that holdes me to my sanitie. It is the one thing upon which I can focus; for once I finde a way to terminate this malicious demon
,
I shall follow him shortly thereafter, as I cannot bear to existe as a murderer. I have studied the olde Vfontales, but finde them mostly untrue. There are too
,
too few ways to end the life of the eternally damned. When I finde a way to rid the worlde of this pestilence I will happily scribe it here in hopes to recorde it for all that followe.

Chapter Eleven

There it was, right in front of her, staring at her, breaking her heart. She focused on it, aching with loss and riddled with yearning. After her realization, she had wandered for a long time. Eventually recognizing familiar surroundings, her feet had led her home. She stood at the tree line, unable to move closer. As much as she craved its comfort, she knew it was wrong. Her children were sleeping on the other side of the wall, and she was frozen with internal struggle. Certainly she could steal into the house undetected to say goodbye to her husband and her two precious girls, but was that the right thing to do? Saying goodbye would make this final. If one of them saw her, the pain it would cause would be infinitely worse than it already was.