NightFall: Book One: Bloodlust Is the Cure for the Immortal Soul (6 page)

BOOK: NightFall: Book One: Bloodlust Is the Cure for the Immortal Soul
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“And I will never die. Forget the garlic myths, crosses and Holy water. They are only to relieve mortals’ minds. They do not work. Sun, however, is our strongest enemy. One touch of the rays would nearly burn you to death. Stay out a little longer and your whole body disintegrates. What will be left of you would be dust. Dust for the wind to carry you away. Another thing that could incapacitate us is bleeding. If the wound is serious enough, we could quite we
ll bleed to death in minutes,”
Saldivar told him gravely.

“I a
m now five hundred years old. But I’m m
erel
y an infant in the eyes of an immortal
. I can imagine it seems like an eternity to you. I will continue to learn and grow stronger with each passing year.

“As soon, you will,”
Saldivar concluded with a cognitive grin.

“I know you have many questi
ons running through you mind,”
Saldivar pointed out.

“Yes. I do,”
Van rejoined.
“Why me?
I do not understand why I have anything to do with vampires.” Van knew he should be shocked at the word ‘vampire’ but for some reason he could not feel afraid.

Saldivar sat in a moment of silence, thinking about how he was to answer Van without scaring him away. He breathed subtly. “You are hungry, yet food is dissatisfying no matter what you eat or how much you eat of it. Not as it should be. You grow sicker every day. And yet, you do not know what ails you. You have a rather rare gene.
One that binds you to our kind.
It
is known as the Belladonna gene; a
n antigen that, through the years, has mutated into this form. I am sure that another generation will yield yet another mutation of this gene. If this antigen is not altered, you

will
become sicker and sicker until you perish. You will not make it to your thirtieth year, I am afraid. That is, i
f you do not let me help you,”
Sa
ldivar finished dismally.

Van’s gray eyes were skeptical. “How do yo
u know I have this rare gene?”
he asked, doubt dripping off every word, his mouth pursed in disdain.

Saldivar chose to ignore Van’s obvious mistrust and press on. “When I was born again to my new father, he told me there would be others like me and others that would need to be transformed in order to live. He said I would know this one. They are known to us-the undead-as the Eternal Entity. I was to be patient until I found this person. And when the time came, I was to go to this one and help before it was too late. And now, I am here due to
my link to you,”
he finished.

Van studied Saldivar, searching for the slightest hint that this was a gambol. This was absurd. Saldivar was just taunting him. But all Van could find was genuine concern in his amber eyes.

Still, years of disappointment on the streets fed the misgivings in his mind. It seemed part of his very bones now. “What if I do not want you help?” Van asked cautiously with a hard undertone.

“Then you will die,”
Saldivar replied candidly.

CHAPTER III

 

Die.

Dead.

Death.

The very thought of it petrified Van into near shock. Surely
it could not be true. H
is ears must be betraying his mind. He felt he was too young to die. But what else could he possibly do? Live an eternity? His brain couldn’t fathom forever. He still didn’t know if this whole thing was a fabrication.

There has to be another way,
Van pondered to himself. Maybe
there was
some special medicine to help him live
out a normal life and just die of old age. Forever or death could not be the only options left to him.

Indubitably, Saldivar must be mistaken. Van refused to believe the inevitable. He must. Having death knocking on his proverbial doorstep would certainly put most things in perspective. He had not yet experienced life. How he lived his life now was no life. He went through the motions of eating and breathing and sleeping, but they felt mechanical. He did it because he had to, to stay alive. He mea
nt the kind of life full of fun, a
home t
o
be able to call his own, a
wife and
children. This cannot be the end of his pathetic life. There had to be a doctor who could help. There must be a cure.

Saldivar
is just trying to frighten me,
Van decided. He was doing a fine job of it then. Did he want go ahead and answer the door? Will death be waiting for him on the other side?

No.
There had to be an antidote for him out there somewhere. Van tried unsuccessfully to convince himself of the possibility.

“That is no
t
possible, Van,”
Saldivar said dolefully. “I am very sorry. There is no remedy for your blood disease. Your blood is dying. Slowly, but eventually, all of you will die.”

Van somehow knew he had to make a decision. What Saldivar said had to be true. How else would he have known all those things about him? No one but himself knew of the problems he had been having. He talked to no one about his illness that now had a name and a cure if he took Saldivar’s advice. Things were not the same any more. His life had been turned upsi
de down. He needed to think long and hard about this new found information.
He knew for a fact he did not want to die.

But live forever?
he
asked himself silently. He shook his head indecisively as if to rid it of all thought.

Saldivar watched as Van quietly fought the war raging in every cell of his body. He knew this w
as Van’s decision, one that he had to make
alone. He could not force this gift
upon him. It would be no hard task to do so. But it would only end up with Van resenting him for an eternity and quite possibly Van’s own self demise.

It was a dark gift but a gift just the same. Saldivar wanted to share it with Van. He could bestow Van all the powers he had learned. He hoped Van will understand this in time. For time was running out. Time was precious to Van now and while the decision should not be taken lightly, it should be made soon. He had not long left to live. He would hate it if he lost Van to his own fear of living forever. Dy
ing young
was such a tragedy and s
uch a loss. Van had an eternity left to him.
Seeing the world.
Seeing how it will change from one century to the next.

And the people?
There were s
o many unique characters from al
l walks of life.
Young and old, rich and poor, h
appy, sad and angry.
Loving and supporting.

Van could travel the world. England, Spain; anywhere he wished to go. He could taste of the women for he could have his pick among any gorgeous female in the world.
All warm and succulent and willing.
Van would never want for anything should he accept Saldivar’s gift.

Saldivar snapped out of his reverie when Van cleared his throat. He saw the fear and uncertainty in Van’s gray eyes. They were clouded with worry. He need not speak. Saldivar knew of Van’s fear…….many centuries ago.

“Believe me, Van,”
Saldivar started sympathetically. “I
do
understand your trepidation. I was there once. But you must take hold of what I have explained to you. None of what I have said has
no
hint of fantasy. It is very real.” Saldivar clasped his hands together and put them to his chin. “I am certainly not a man who makes up ridiculous notions for humor.” He broke his hands apart in what looked to be surrender. “But, sadly, you do not believe me and I cannot force you to take this g
ift. And I do wish you would,”
he concluded as he placed his hands on his knees.

“Gift?
Gift?

Van asked incredulously. “Living forever is a gift? It sounds more like a curse to me.”

The last word stabbed at Saldivar in near excruciation pain. He did not think his way of life a curse. How terrible Van would perceive of it that way. For a fleeting moment, Saldivar was faintly tempted to use his mind to coax Van in the right direction, but he
knew he could not.
Sad to say,
but true.

Van saw the pain in Saldivar’s eyes. Pain he had inflicted with sharp words. He quickly regretted it, feeling shameful that he had even thought of it at all.

“I am sorry I said that. I had no right to make hasty assumptions. I know I cannot say such things because I do not know how it feels to be like you.” Van observed Saldivar. “You seem very much the gentleman. You have ever
ything.” Van pointed to his chest
, eyes filled with anguish.
“But look at me. Just look at me! I am sick. I must beg on the streets of Paris. I have no family to call upon in desperate times of need. Not even family to visit me if I were wealthy and happy.” Van lowered his head. “I have no one.” He gazed intently into Saldivar’s eyes, wanting him to see. “I
am
no one.” He paced now. “And now, what is worse is that you say I am most certainly going to die if I’m not transformed. But I have the capability to live forever if I agree to your gift.” He sat back down again.

“You are not a ‘
no one
‘,”
Saldivar stated firmly. “You may have no family to call upon but I can be your family along with countless others like me. Sharing my gift with you will make us closer than blood relation, so to speak.”

Van sighed as he stood from his chair. He walked over to the sculptures on the mantle of the fire place. He pointed of the female statuaries. “You did this, did you not? Sculpted these women from real life?”

Saldivar joined Van at the fire place. “Yes. You are wise and have a good eye,
mon
ami
.”

Van swallowed hard. “Did–-did you leave those marks on their necks?”
he
asked, indicating to the two tiny holes apparent on the pulses of the women.

Saldivar studied his sculptures proudly. He had had an eye for sculpting then, and he had g
ood hands for it. He answered,
“In a way……yes, I did. You see, biting the flesh of living skin leaves a mark only a short period of time. They heal rapidly. So, I sculpt them soon after feeding. Believe me, they do not mind at all.”

Van’s eyes widened in both shock and fear.
Saldivar had killed these poor, innocent women and then sculpted them in order to preserve them in a sick way. That would explain the euphoria frozen on their faces. He killed them at that very moment when they had that look on their unassuming faces. How could he? It was a ghastly way for a vampire to live. He–—

“They
are
dead, Van.
But not by my hands,”
Saldivar explained. “Old age claimed them. I sculpted these one hundred years or more ago.”

Van blew out a sigh of relief. Saldivar was not the monster Van thought of him.

“We are not some kind of demon, Van. You will not become one if you were like us.” Saldivar turned away and walked to the window, motioning for Van to follow. “Look out at the world and really study it. Do you not see the turmoil that mortals cause every day?
Do you not witness hatred between
neighbors? Do they not wish to kill their enemies for the smallest infraction? People reject the unknown. They fear it.

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