Legend Of The Vampire (Chapter 5: New friends. Old Lies)

8/6/2019 Legend Of The Vampire (Chapter 5: New friends. Old Lies)

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CHAPTER 5: New friends. Old Lies.

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It was nearly dawn when Hideaki occupied the seat at the black, grand piano inside themusic room. Weak morning light slowly shone through the windows. His fingers stifflystruck a few, incoherent keys. His mind was somewhere else, but not too far away. Hecouldn't leave this place, his mind and body. This was his home, his junglehis life.

For forty-seven years that he had settled here, there had not been any other place in theworld he would rather to be. The beautiful, green forest surrounding his home provided thesense of security and solitude. The waterfalls, caves, streams and ponds garnished themountainous landscape. There was a perfect peak to watch sunrise, and on the other side

of the plateau, a breathtaking sunset, where he often took Ian when he was little. Sundaypicnic in the wild was an absolute must for both, and together they loved observing wildanimals hunt, or fall prey as nature dictated. It was a perception that guided them throughtheir immortal path, to remind them that life and death was never too far apart. The two didmost of the outdoor activities together, and as a young boy, Ian already showed greatinterest in firearms. He grew up to be an extraordinary shooter, defeating everyone in theclan, even Hideaki himself. And as decades passed, together they watched their family growinto a clan, sheltering those victimized by the same enemythe vampires.

Once Alex phoned him about the attack in the woods, Hideaki had rushed into the forest,cursing himself for ever allowing the disaster to happen. Forty-seven years had passed, yetit felt so fresh in his mind, the heavy crush in his chest, the bloodshed and the inevitableloss. It should not happen again. It could not happen again, or so he wished.

Through the darkness, Hideaki had climbed down the muddy slope and followed the trails ofblood, a flashlight in one hand. There were incessant yelling and howling from the angrywerewolves in the background, but his mind couldn't seem to register the tension in theirvoices. The scent had confirmed his fear that the blood truly belonged to his son. Then hehad halted in his track, Ians bloodied gun laid idly in the shrubs. As he looked a littlefurther, he spotted the other twin gun at the base of a gigantic tree. With his eyes squinted,he had tilted his head back and caught sight of the gruesome patches of red along the thickbranch above. As a shooter, losing his gun meant death. But a vampire, a viciously strongone at that, had managed to disarm Ian.

What had they done to my boy my Ian?

The question repeated in his head a thousand times over, and the only thing that had kept

him from insanity was the sound of the piano. How he wished he had learned to play theinstrument. His wife was good at it, and Ian developed an interest in it as well. He nevergave it a piece of mind, and now no one was playing it for him.

While the vampire leader escaped before the reinforcement arrived, all of his nineteen menwere killed on the mission. After making the call to report Hideaki of the incident, Sam, Alexand Samantha, followed the vampire leader into the wild. They believed that he had takenIan hostage. Although Hideaki was desperate to go find his son himself, he remained at themansion and allowed only two squads of men to assist Sam since the safety of their lairmust come first. To make matters worse, he was enraged and heartbroken when Jerry


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confessed of his affair with Mai. The young werewolf was then taken to the undergroundprison, awaiting verdict from the clan.

In exhaustion, Hideaki buried his face in his hands and let out a deep sigh. After the deathof his wife, he moved on with courage and hope only because he had Ian. But he couldn'tseem to find that same strength now.

Forgive me, Ann.

Blackness entombed him whole, and the air was bitter and cold. Ian tried to open his eyes,but his eyelids felt incredibly heavy, the weight of his limbs chained him to the spot. Thegarbled sound of words and noises eventually stirred him out of the deep slumber. Then thecoldness of the hard surface he was lying upon began to reap his attention, though ratherslowly. He felt two rough hands lightly pulling and hovering over his left shoulder. He triedto move away from them, but his body ached so badly that he had to stop to breathe."Be still, child. Be still," a female voice said. The tone was calm, yet a hint of vigor residedin her voice.

Mother is that you...? Am I dead?

"It'll take only a minute, and I'm done," the same voice continued.

Ian felt the dark clouds over him gradually lifted, and his head felt a lot lighter now. Hecould smell the woman's perfume and knew exactly the brand she used. His eyes stillclosed, he could tell how small the surrounding was by the slight echo of the woman'svoice. His senses were regaining strength, though his body would need a little more time.

"You said that an hour ago." Another voice, a much younger female, responded. But thesource of voice seemed a small distance away, blocked by certain barricades. Perhaps, theother party was in another room across some sort of passageway.

The hands that were working on his shoulder suddenly stopped. Ian felt the woman'sweight shift beside his body. "Are you sure you want to keep him here?"

There was a long pause before the younger voice giggled and replied, "He could stay and bemy food."

"This is not a joke, Spencer. You might actually kill him if you had more of his blood."

She what My My blood?

Ian was pulled out of trance by his own coarse scream. He shot up into a sitting position,

objects clanking around him. His eyes snapped open wide, and he turned to see a gray-haired, slightly overweight woman in a blue housedress kneeling beside him, a small pair ofscissors in one hand. A few bloodied, white cloths and a scalpel were assembled in astainless bowl next to the woman.

"Oh, my, don't move too much. I know the wound could heal itself, but you need a littlemore time. It's rather serious," the old woman said.

Breathing heavily, Ian stared at the stranger, looking her up and down. "You're human"


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the floor. Her back was facing Ian's direction, and even though she whispered into thevampire's ear, Ian could still catch it.

"I told you it was a bad idea to bring him here. He's trouble. He's going to bring trouble tous."

The vampire said nothing and quietly walked right up to the door. One foot into thebedroom, she put her hand on the creaky, brass doorknob, and stared down at him. Hergaze was as indifferent as Ian remembered last night. She then turned off the switch of thelight bulb which hung from the ceiling, and slammed the door shut.

"Huh Hhey! HEY! What are youCome back! Where are you going! You can't just leaveme here! Come back!" Ian yelled in the dark.

Behind the closed door, Spencer turned around and gave Annie a sheepish smile, wincing atthe constant yelling on the other side of the wall. The old woman just shook her headdisapprovingly, and they both walked back to the kitchen.

Tiredly grabbing the back of her neck with both hands, Spencer slouched onto the chair.

"My, I'm hungry again," she droned.

Annie brushed her unkempt hair a little, while turning her back to Spencer and pretended torearrange the kitchenware. "I'm sure his blood was sweet. He's grown so much, though notas much as I, but still Last time I saw him, he was still a babya human. The world hasgone wrong. So wrong."

Annie tried her best to hide the jealousy in her tone, and Spencer's easy demeanor (readingnewspaper from Annie's laptop and enjoying a cup of hot tea) implied no awareness of suchsentiment.

Shortly before four o'clock in the previous day, Spencer had shown up by the doorway withthe unconscious, raven-haired man in her arms. Annie had been alarmed to see Spencer'swhite sweatshirt soaked with Ian's blood, but what panicked her all the more was the patchof deep crimson on Spencer's left arm. The bullet hole in the middle of the fresh bloodstainhad proven that, in the dark forest, Ian hadn't missed the target after all.

Her knees a little shaken, Spencer had quickly stepped inside and headed straight into thebasement. She had gently put Ian down on the floor of her bedroom, the only availablespace in the compact crypt. Annie had moved beside the unconscious form, observing Ian'sshoulder wound, and then went upstairs to retrieve the first-aid kit. She had returned totend Ian's injuries, but the process hadn't gone too far when she heard a thud in thekitchen area. Peeking out of the bedroom, she had seen Spencer kneeling on the floor,clutching her injured arm.

'Spencer!' Annie had rushed into the kitchen and slid to the floor next to the vampire.Spencer's body was bent, shaken, her eyes closed. Beads of sweat had been forming on her

forehead, her skin paled even more.

'I'm okay. Just give me a minute.' Spencer had tried to move away, but Annie hadgrabbed her lithe body and turned her around.

'Let me see it,' Annie had said, holding still Spencer's arm and lifting the bloodied sleeve up.Although the hole on the sleeve appeared small, the bullet had drilled into the pale fleshand split the bone, leaving gruesome, burn wound slightly smaller than the size of a


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baseball, dark blood seeping around the opening. Had it hit vital organs, the vampire wouldhave been burnt into dust.

Annie's lips had quivered as she found no strength to utter another word. Spencer had leftthe monastery as soon as the sun went down, claiming that she was going for a stroll.Annie hadn't believed it, but hadn't stopped her either. Having lived together for manyyears, the old woman had learned of Spencer's way of lies. Whenever Spencer was aloofand silent, it was a way of saying goodbyeto detach herself from everyone and everythingshe had grown to know. Every time the vampire left their home on a task or a journey,nothing guaranteed if she'd ever return. But Annie knew that she couldn't change Spencer'smind no matter what. The vampire fiercely guarded her secrecyher past so ancient anddeep. As years passed, Annie learned to give up begging to be a part of it. She wanted to beSpencer's present, and she was.

"Quit playing with that gun, will you?" Annie momentarily glanced over her shoulder as shewashed the dishes in the sink.

Smiling, Spencer looked up from the laptop. She continued to wave the gun around andsaid, "I admire their invention. This is even better than the last model. It works like magic!You don't even have to be good to hit the mark. The werewolves are really something,

aren't they?"

"It has nothing to do with the gun. That boy He had to be remarkablemost remarkableto be able to get you."

The statement wiped the smile off Spencer's face. It wasn't the first time the vampiretasted the bitter agony from a UV bullet, but the circumstance was vastly different backthen and it wasn't what Spencer would like to talk about again.

Annie listened to the knocking, yelling and pounding that continued in the bedroom, andshook her head. Ann's son proved to be as stubborn as her. She turned her attention backto the sink and said, "I'll prepare breakfast for him. He must be hungry. And you shouldtake some rest, too. You can use my room for the time being."

"I don't trust the curtains all that much," Spencer said. Giggling, she took a sip from herfavorite drink. Green tea wasn't what her body needed, but it was something of her owntaste of luxury goods. "I'll take care of it. You should go back to sleep, Annie. You've beenup all night," she said, and then got up from the table. Moving around the pool of morninglight coming through the window, the vampire approached Annie from behind andembraced her. It was Spencer's way of showing gratitude that Annie sometimes had a hardtime to differentiate from love.

"Thank you. You saved my life again," Spencer said, grinning.

Annie turned around to face Spencer, putting her arms around her shoulders and clingingonto her. There was a second of silence before she said, "It was his blood, not mine." With

that, she withdrew her hands and quietly left the basement.

Spencer didn't follow. Standing by the sink, she took a minute staring down at the pile ofdishes, and then began to pick up Annie's task. She turned the faucet on and let the soundof running water shatter distantly in her frustrated mind. Reito called her yesterday andasked her to join the ambush. Although she had teasingly refused him, she stalked his teaminto the woods near the werewolves' lair. Watching from afar, she hadn't thought that Ianwould falter. She hadn't foreseen herself intervening and rescuing the stranger. She hadn'texpected her wound to be critical enough to render her helpless, thus needing blood to


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quicken the healing process. Since she had adamantly refused to feed from the old woman,Annie insisted that she sought help from the only other available choice.

As she knelt next to the unconscious man, Spencer had tried to still her shaky hands as sheheld the limping wrist up to her mouth. Taking Ian's blood had been inevitable since shewas determined to unveil Ian's certain knowledge, the very reason of the rescue last night.But she didn't trust herself when her body lost control like this. Reluctantly, she had buriedher fangs into the smooth flesh. She could take only a little since the injured man could notgive her so much after all. However, the scent of blood had been ever so sweet andtorturous that she succumbed to its murderous intent. She would have bled Ian dry, if itwasn't for Annie. The old woman had rushed to hold her, and whispered soft words whichfelt almost like a plea, that only then succeeded to break her from the heavenly trance. Ifthere was any trace of humanity left within her, it was Annie who saw it, lightened it andmade her embrace it.

After washing the dishes, Spencer proceeded to warm up some of the chicken Annie hadstored in the fridge. She had never fed a werewolf before and meat seemed like the mostsuitable choice for carnivores. In fact, she always envied the werewolves for having suchappetite close to human beings' and their privilege of walking in the sun unscathed.Spencer's world was limited, and her time was diminished in half. Her existence was

reduced to mere rats in the sewer. How she wished to feel the warmth of the sun again. Shecouldn't quite remember exactly how long ago it had been.

"Is anybody out there! Please help me! Anybody! Help!"

Waiting for the chicken to warm up in the oven, Spencer raised one brow at the noisescoming from the end of the dark corridor. Her arms across her chest, she turned to look atthe closed bedroom door. A migraine was building as she realized that she was going tohave a hard time resting today.

Although the basement was cold and damp, Ian began to feel the heat in his body rising upafter jumping up and down, pulling the chain, kicking and yelling. The injuries and theexertion finally drained him, and he slumped down on the floor. He leaned against the wallto take gulps of air, but his moment of peace didn't last for too long when the door swungopen. The vampire entered the dark room with a plate in her hand, and Ian instinctivelysniffed and knew what it was before he even saw it.

The captor put the plate on the floor and moved away, keeping distance from the werewolf.Flicking the table lamp switch on, she then slouched down to the bed and lied flat on herback. With both hands supporting the back of her head, she closed her eyes and took a fewdeep breaths in. Ian easily caught the fatigue the vampire was trying to hide from the slowand unusually heavy movements. For a few minutes, Ian observed the stillness on the paleface, which was illuminated solely by the yellow beams from the lamp; the relaxed bodypost; the slowly heaving chest. Judging from the weariness, Ian presumed that the vampiretraveled a large distance from the lair and brought him here all by herself. Given the fact

that this place looked nothing like a prison, it was very likely that his captor was a rogue.Could it be that this was the vampire who had slain the female victim he found the othernight? The world suddenly grew ridiculously small. Ian couldn't quite believe his luck.

"Eat." The vampire spoke, her eyes still closed.

Biting his lips, Ian looked back and forth between his captor and the food, debating whichmeans was easier for the vampire: killing him with bare hands or poisoning him.


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"They're chicken wings with ketchup"

"I know what they are," Ian snapped.

At Ian's curt tone, the vampire opened her eyes and stared at him. She then made a littlegesture to her own neck and said, "Is it too tight that you can't swallow?"

Ian felt blood shooting up to his head. If it were any other circumstance, he would havekicked the plate away, but hunger stopped him from doing anything stupid. Besides, thevampire already had his blood, and he wasn't sure how much of his past had been revealed."Who are you? What is this place? You're not from Uriah, are you? Were you Were youthe one who fed on that woman?"

His last question did garner some real attention from the vampire. Comfortable on the bed,the vampire stared at him hard, her gaze scrutinizing and searching for something Iancouldn't quite pin point what.

"There aren't too many bodies floating around in the sea, you know," Ian said.

The silence only confirmed Ian that the vampire in front of him was really the one his fatherwas looking for. As far as he knew, the chestnut-haired stranger was probably among thestrongest vampires he had ever encountered, and it was the requirement a vampire mustmeet to be able to survive without their peers or their protection. But the only thing thatstill kept Ian from instant panic was the serene air around the pale creature. It was whathe first sensed in the woods, the tranquil presence that almost vanished behind banks offog, and it was even more palpable now that they were so close to each other in such asmall space, without the scent of death and the bloody struggle to survive.

"Why do you always go to that library?"

Ian slapped his forehead. "Oh, so you were the one stalking me that night!"

"It was his idea. It was him, the one who apparently kicked your butt last night."

Ian paused as the memory of the encounter was still fresh in his mind. As much as he hatedto admit defeat, he acknowledged that the vampire leader was a brutal force to be reckonedwith.

The vampire then smiled. "Scared now? But I wouldn't worry if I were you. Yourperformance was hmm, not bad."

Ian inwardly growled at the sneering tone. He had never been described as 'not bad'. ForGod's sake, he was excellent. "I was already wounded when you decided to show up. Iwouldn't have missed!"

The vampire's lazy shrug only aggravated Ian more.

"And why did you follow the vampires there? Sneaking around like a thief. What were youdoing? Who are you?"

As expected, the vampire's only answer to those crucial questions was a silent stare.

"I've heard about Mai Anderson. Is she still alive?"


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"I'm not interested in talking about Uriah. God should have sunk that stinking island longago." The vampire shifted a little in her pose, looking up at the ceiling.

Ian quietly studied the rogue vampire, feeling a bit relieved. If an enemy of his enemy wasa friend, at least for now he wouldn't be handed off to the bloodthirsty vampires of Uriah."Have you ever been there? The island, I meant," he asked.

"Aren't you hungry? They're chicken wings with ketchup"

"I know what it is," Ian said, "but ketchup?"

The vampire looked away, obviously uninterested in food in general. She probably wouldn'tcare if the chicken was even edible.

Ian put up a grin. "I bet Annie got some mayonnaise around."

The vampire paused for a moment, and then let out a huff before jumped out of the bed andstalked into the kitchen. After a little while, she returned with a bottle of mayonnaise andput it next to the plate, ever so careful to keep her distance. Quickly, she hopped onto the

bed and resumed her relaxed position once more.

Ian almost laughed aloud at the slightly annoyed look in those crimson eyes, and thenbegan his breakfast. After last night's trial, he was literally starving. It didn't take longbefore his stomach was full and his eyelids were heavy again. He put the plate away andwiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He tried to stretch his arms, but the chains weretoo short.

"This is annoying. They're so short." Ian griped. He waved his arms left and right,calculating whether he would be able to break the chains and whether he could transform.

"It belonged to Shijo, Annie's first Tibetan Mastiff. It held him well as it does you now," thevampire said with a small hint of mockery in her gaze.

Gritting his teeth, Ian had to spend all his mental strength not to jump at the creature. Hewouldn't want to upset this strange blood sucker enough to get shipped off to Uriah.Hopefully, his father would find him here soon.

Ian then smirked. "Well, are you seriously going to let me watch you sleep like this?"

"You can sleep, so that you don't have to watch me sleep."

"Can you put me in some other room? Don't you have like a dark, miserable prisonsomewhere? Like a cave where bats love to hang around or something like that?"

"Do you prefer the kitchen?" The vampire crossed her legs and sank deeper into the bed,

trying to delve into slumber.

"I just don't feel so safe here. Do you sleepwalk?" Ian pretended to grab his own neck withboth hands in panic.

Visibly annoyed, the vampire shut her eyes and turned her face the other way to face thewall. Then Ian's eyes widened at the pair of large, black wings spreading out fromunderneath the vampire's back and enfolding her lithe body like a shiny, textured coffin. Fora moment, Ian was speechless. He couldn't help but appreciate its menacing beauty and the


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rare showcase of a pair so large and rich in its black shade, at such proximity. Even thevampire leader he fought with last night had narrower, gray wings, and the shape was notperfectly curved as the pair in front of him.

In the dimly lit room, there was no other sound audible to even sharp ears like Ians exceptfor his own breathing. The vampire's presence seemed to have vanished behind the blackveil. Ian leaned back against the cold wall, involuntarily content in the solitary corner.

"Hey what's your name?"

After a long moment of silence, a murky whisper escaped between the folds of the wings."Spencer."

Legend Of The Vampire (Chapter 5: New friends. Old Lies)

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