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Addendum Issue 085
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¯ http://members.optushome.com.au/steak/addendum/ ¯
Issue 85 - Finalized on Tuesday, 17 December 2002 at 5:45 PM
The title of this issue is: 'I want to live a life of danger!'
Contents
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1. Número uno, by Steak
2. Dear Mc Donalds, by Steak
3. Chris and the Battle with the Catalpa Worm, by cmountford
4. First man Part III, by Steak
5. Command Not Found by Gir
6. U2 'Elevation' Live, 2001 A review by steak
_ 7. When Dark Meets love Part 1, by White Raven _
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1. Número uno, by Steak
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Well here we go, jumping into another issue.
I realise that I said that this issue would be out on Christmas day, and I realise
that I gave everyone a dead line of the twenty third of December to get everything in
by, but I really do think that Ive got everything that is going to come my way. Ive
got some time now so I thought I would devote that time to getting the issue out the
door.
If anybody sends anything more to me before the twenty-third and complains that I put
this issue out too early then I will release a special issue just for that person.
Arent I nice?
Anyway, this issue is a special issue in its own way, mainly because its the
Christmas edition of Addendum. So Id like to take this opportunity to say a big
"Merry Christmas!" to all our readers and contributors. I also want to wish all you
guys a great new years, dont drink too much ok? No one wants to be a statistic.
In this issue we had the first submissions from White_Raven and cmountford, they
hopefully will be making regular appearances in the future. There are of course
articles by myself, and one from Gir as well. Phoenix and Zircon arent available for
articles at the moment (see the official addendum press release) we wish them the
best with what they are doing and hope to receive something from them again soon.
So without further ado, I present you the latest issue of Addendum, please enjoy
yourself and steer clear of the blood-sucking vampires.
2. Dear Mc Donalds, By Steak
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Dear Mc Donalds. inc
I have a son, his name is Geoffrey and he is terribly obese, so much so that he
cannot even move his legs to get himself out of bed to relieve himself, the sheets
of his bed have to be changed from underneath his mountainous layers of fat every
time he has to go for a wee-wee or a poo-poo. The sad thing is that my son Geoffrey
is fifteen, just fifteen, he is only a child.
The thing that really gets right to anybodys heart reading this story is the fact
that this is entirely the fault of a company that i used to regard as having saint
like qualities, Mc Donalds. Let me tell you this harrowing story.
Ever since he was young we've been feeding him on the food from your restaurant.
When he first popped out my tummy he was a small skinny lad and an adorable son. We
cared for him immensely and wanted him to receive the best possible diet for the
highest chances of living a full life, so after much consideration of all the
available brochures, we decided (thanks as well to a most informative we-thought-at-
he-time advertising campaign) that the most favorable choice for the healthy body
we required in our son was McDonalds fast food.
The nurses inundated me with mindless facts and figures trying to brainwash me into
breast feeding him but I knew better. I used my right as a woman and chose, for the
benefit of my son (and to an small extent his father) to surgically implant tubes
into my breasts that, instead of human milk would output McDonalds chocolate and
strawberry smoothies on demand. Every month I would need a refill that would require
a humiliating and often very painful procedure involving a hose connected to a truck
of smoothy-shake and one of my bodily orifices.
When he started teething we gave him hash browns to chew on, we smiled on our son
knowing that from birth he was receiving the best possible nutritional value from
all that fried reconstructed potato. When he could finally eat solids we started him
on the regular size big-mac, it took him less that two years before he was eating a
couple of extra large ones every night.
As all adorable angelic little boys his age he started going to school, but this
opened up a question that caused many a sleepless night in our family, would our
little Geoffrey be a popular nipper in school amongst his childhood pals? So imagin
our relief when we discovered that McDonalds had quite a high reputation in the
sociology of the playground. So, for the good of our son we insisited that instead
of sandwiches, crisps and fruit in his lunch box every day we would give him a set
of thirteen chicken McNuggets and a couple of extra large big macs. Naturally he was
the envy of all the other children, and he quickly became the most popular kid in
school.
But for some reason his body was gradually getting bigger, his stomach was getting
rounder and his chest was expanding. I, being the cearing mother i am, wondered
about all this but in the end I just put down to puberty and thought that it was
perfectly normal. In fact was almost in tears at one point because i thought that my
little Geoffrey was growing up and would soon be leaving his mother behind him, on
her own.
Let me tell you something Mr McDonald, i was having a good day yesterday. I had
attended bible studies in the morning and the rest of the day i was going to spend
preparing a lovely dinner for Geoffrey's father, Jerimier. Now I'm not afraid to
tell you that i like to have a little time to myself when Jerimier goes off to work,
i like to steal myself away an hour to sit down and watch Wheel Of Fortune.
Well i was watching it and there was a commercial break, and naturally i was
watching the adverts with enthusiasm, and one of those news break segments came on
to the screen and I'm not exaggerating to say that it ruined my life forever. It
said that a child's mom in another country that wasn't America was suing you because
you didn't provide adequate health warnings.
Health warnings!? When has McDonalds needed health warnings? I had always thought
that it was a healthy choice food! Well i made a note of the time that the news was
on and when Jerimier came home i asked him if i could be aloud out of the kitchen to
watch the news. He naturally said that i wasn't, which was perfectly understandable,
he is after all the owner of the household, and he did want to watch and record bay
watch, he needs to analyze it in slow motion, he says, which is perfectly
understandable if you think about it.
Anyway while i was in the kitchen i disobeyed a direct husband-order (as we say in
our loving household) and went outside to find a payphone (i am forbiddon to make
communication with anybody unless its to help the family, which is perfectly
understandable) I called up my girlfriend Mable and get her to record it for me.
I was appalled by what i discovered, no disgusted would be a better word. I have
been feeding my little Geoffrey these chunks of repossessed meat everyday for his
entire life and he is now totaly overweight.
This is an outrage, it is obviously all your fault. If you had only just stuck up a
sign at the McDonalds restaurants i visited that said something along the lines of
'WARNING MCDONALDS FOOD CAN MAKE YOU OBEASE AND IS VERY VERY BAD FOR YOU' then i
wouldn't have bought your food and fed it to my son and he wouldn't be as sick as he
is.
I want $20,000,000 US in damages that your unchristian company has caused to my
beautiful sons health. You have exactly seven days to make the payment in full to
my account. The amount of money is nonnegotiable, unless you wish to increase the
amount. If for some reason you are foolish enough not to pay, I will prosecute you
to the absolute full extent of the law
Good day to you sir
Jackie Baker
3. Chris and the Battle with the Catalpa Worm, by cmountford
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The vacation starts out normal enough, but you'll soon see why this wasn't just any
vacation. It turned into an outright battle with fiends not evil in themselves, but
wreck havoc the moment you think you've got things under control. But all that comes
later!
"Nothing can be more boring than spending an entire summer at my grandparents'
summer cottage," fourteen-year-old Chris Edwards moans. Grandma and Grandpa's
cottage is right next to a small lake, but Chris can find little joy in this remote
location. One day Chris decides to go for a walk down the Shady "Loop" Lane. As he
is walking down the "Loop," he admires the beauty of a particular tree in a yard.
This tree has huge leaves and looks like it is growing popcorn. The flabbergasted
fourteen-year-old walks over to where huge pieces of popcorn lay on the ground. He
tries to eat one of these pieces, but it doesn't taste like popcorn.
Suddenly an old man's head emerges from a window and screams, "It's not popcorn, you
idiot! You are actually eating blossoms off my Catalpa tree. You may look at my
tree, but I'd better not see you harming my tree in any way. If I ever see you doing
anything detrimental to my tree, I'll make your summer miserable."
Chris manages to stammer, "I'll n-n-ever do anything l-l-like that."
To this the man quips, "I'll believe it when I don't see it."
Chris enjoys gazing at this Catalpa tree, but he cannot figure out how to win the old
man's trust or even find out his name. One day the man calls to Chris, "Do you see
those Catalpa worms destroying my tree? You didn't put the worms on my tree, or did
you?" The man scowls and wrinkles his nose at Chris as if the boy is a sack of
garbage.
"No sir! I would never harm your tree!" Chris notices the drastic change in the
man's attitude toward Chris. The man's scowl suddenly softens to an inquiring yet
trusting gaze. The man's sudden change in attitude sends a chill down Chris' spine
as he gets the odd feeling that the grumpy, old man has killed someone. Chris tries
to make sense of his thoughts. Chris wonders if the grumpy man is just waiting for
him to let his guard down. Chris' thoughts are interrupted as the old man begins
speaking in his voicethat sounds like fingernails scratching sandpaper.
After several uncomfortable seconds, the old man replies, "Would you like to try and
get rid of the worms for me? It will give me a reason to trust you." Chris wonders
what came into the man, or whether he's on drugs or some weird medicine.
"Absolutely!" Chris exclaims.
After the fourteen-year-old boy gets home, he starts
having doubts that he can get rid of the worms. Chris believes that Grandpa might
know how to get rid of the worms
When the boy asks Grandpa, all he will tell Chris is that "knowledge is power."
"What does that mean?" Chris contemplates as he walks down the road opposite his
usual direction. He carefully ponders Grandpa's words as he walks. The fourteen-year-
old boy sees an old billboard as he is walking down the road. Chris reads the
billboard aloud. "Expand your knowledge at the library. Take a right at the next
stop sign, and the library will be on the corner. The hours Monday through Friday
are 8:00 AM to 7:00 PM. Saturday hours are 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM. The library is
closed all day Sunday and on national holidays."
Chris knows today is Saturday. He checks his watch and yells, "I'm in luck! The
time is 4:30 PM, so I've got 30 minutes!" Chris rushes to the library. When he
finally puffs inside, he asks a librarian, "How do I find out information about
getting rid of Catalpa worms?"
The librarian ponders the boy's words for a few moments and then replies in her arid,
parched voice, "Hmmmm...let's look in the encyclopedia." They go over to a
bookshelf. The librarian pulls a large, dusty book off the shelf and starts flipping
pages in the book. She suddenly exclaims, "Here it is!" The librarian reads several
lines silently. She reads aloud, "The quickest and easiest way of getting rid of the
worms is to spray the tree with pesticide.
The librarian puts the book back on the bookshelf, and she then walks over to
another bookcase. She pulls out a number of books that talk about pesticide use on
the trees of North America and grabs several other books on various aspects on
Catalpa worms and trees. After filling out a form, Chris receives his first library
card. He checks out the books and thanks the librarian for her help.
Chris is so excited! He dashes home and quickly reads one of the books he checked
out at the library. After he's finished, he looks up "pesticide companies" in the
Yellow Pages. He calls every shop listed, but none of them charge anything under
$700 for 100 pounds of pesticide. The fourteen-year-old boy attempts bargaining, but
all he can get is $360 for 50 pounds of pesticide. Chris strives to raise money, but
he just cannot earn enough green. Depression engulfs Chris like flames overwhelm a
dry twig. He feels a sinking, burning sensation inside his stomach. Chris longs for
a friend but is afraid of rejection.
Chris collapses in the grass and moans, "What am I going to do?" The boy lies on the
lawn until he feels a hundred sharp needles sticking him all over. Chris screeches,
"Yow!" The boy realizes he's been sitting on top of an anthill. Chris jumps around
and stomps until the ants fall off Chris. The boy whines, "Nothing is going my way!"
He realizes that the tiny ants managed to get rid of him, even though he was a giant
compared to the ants! The wheels in his head grind into motion once more.
Suddenly he exclaims, "I just got an idea! I need to work in order to get rid of the
worms."
Chris thinks to himself, "No, shit, Sherlock!"
Suddenly, another thought enters Chris' mind. He moans, "Oh no! I'm going to have
to touch every one of those disgusting, slimy worms! Ugh!"
The next day Chris attempts picking every worm off the tree. After hours of grueling
work, Chris has layers of slime from the worms all over his body. The slime on his
body is nothing compared to the disgusting mess in the old man's yard. Chris
realizes that he has to clean this up. The old man pokes his head out of the window
like a turtle and suggests, "I can get you a 50-gallon trash bag if you would like."
Chris exclaims, "Thank you, gracias, merci! That will help me so very much!" Chris
spends two more hours cleaning up the slime in the man's yard. The boy exclaims,
"I'm finally done!" But the moment Chris says this, he realizes why he can't go home
yet.
He realizes he's covered with slime from head to toe. When he tries walking, it
feels like he has about ten pounds of slime on his shoes.
Chris squishes his way down to the lake and washes the slime off his body. When
Chris is done with this, the sun is about to set. He spots one worm that he didn't
get. He gloomily states, "Oh no! I guess that I can get that worm tomorrow."
When Chris checks on the tree the next day, he is horrified. He rubs his eyes and
exclaims, "Am I hallucinating? I think I see more worms on the tree than I ever
have!" Chris wishes the worms were just his imagination, but they are real! Chris
wonders whether he just dreamed last night that he got rid of all the worms but one.
The boy looks at his shoes, and traces of slime still glisten on them.
When he realizes he actually DID get rid of nearly all the worms, he moans,
"Why do bad things always happen to me?" Chris feels more lonely than ever, and the
worms offer no sympathy to him.
The loneliness causes Chris to realize just much easier work would be with a friend.
"I could get rid of these worms twice as fast with a partner helping me." Chris
finally realizes how much trouble he's in, because the problem is much more
complicated than he thought.
Chris mutters to himself to keep away the icy loneliness, "I don't think I can take
another disgusting day of squishing worms. Chris starts walking to the store to buy
a candy bar, but he realizes he's broke. Chris has already used the money Grandpa
gave him for the week.Chris turns around, penniless, lonely, and feeling a total
failure. Chris trudges the rest of the way back home in silence. When he gets home,
he morosely reads the other books he checked out from the local library. He just
wishes he had a friend to do something fun with.He grumbles, "And I'm stuck with
BOOKS and CATALPA WORMS to keep me company. I'll be glad to get rid of both of
them." He flips through a book, and his eye catches on a phrase. He sees
the phrase, and images of shiny coins and green dance in his head.
Chris exclaims, "Now I'm on to something! I sure could use some extra cash!"
Chris reads the words in the book out loud, "Using Catalpa worms as fish bait will
keep you constantly reeling in colossal fish!" Chris remembers hearing about the
fishermen that flock to the lake on weekends. He remembers hearing how they go crazy
about buying bait if one person catches a fish with it. He ponders, "Why don't I try
selling the worms?
Maybe I'll meet someone who can help me, or better yet, be my friend."
Chris makes about 100 signs to help him sell the worms. He deposits the signs
at different intersections around the lake. After hammering the last sign into the
spongy earth, he reads the words on the sign in front of him loudly like he's
announcingfor everyone to hear. "Need fish bait? Simply drop by 10685 Shady Lane to
buy live Catalpa worms tomorrow! Each enormous worm costs merely 50 cents!"
Chris wakes up early the next morning and gathers about 90 wriggling worms.
Customers start arriving around 8:10 A.M. Chris chuckles when he sees every one of
his customers go bug-eyed the moment they lay eyes on the Catalpa worms! He thinks,
"Funny how my customers' eyes are looking more and more like the worms' eyes." Every
customer's hands flutter to count their money.
By 12:00 Chris has sold most of the worms he gathered early in the morning. The
ecstatic young boy counts his money. "Wow! I've earned forty dollars in a few
hours!" Chris exclaims. Soon, when Chris reaches into the bucket, he receives quite
a shock! He tries to figure out what's happened, but it doesn't take long for him
to realize he's already sold all his worms. He never imagined the fishermen could be
so crazy! Chris takes a large bucket to the Catalpa tree. He plucks 200 squishy
worms
off the tree and deposits them in the huge bug box. When the jubilant boy gets back,
he can't help noticing the growing line of people waiting to buy worms. He sees some
faces of fishermen who bought worms earlier, and they're telling everyone about the
huge
fish they caught with the worms. Chris can barely contain himself---he's getting the
best advertising he could hope for. Fishermen are coming back & trying to beat each
other's records for the longest fish caught that day!
Chris has so many customers that his hands are constantly clutching money, counting
it,and passing out worms for the rest of the afternoon. Chris makes several more
trips to gather more Catalpa worms. On the last trip, when Chris is in the tree
collecting worms, the man suddenly pops his head out the window like a turtle! Chris
nearly falls out of the tree! The man peers high into the tree and shouts, "You sure
are a good tree climber. What is the view like high in the tree? I never have
climbed to the top of my tree before."
The man squints his eyes at Chris for a moment and inquires, "What are you doing
putting the worms in a bucket?"
Chris tells himself to not look down several times before answering.
Chris clears his throat nervously. The boy feels uncomfortable because he just
realized that the man might get mad at Chris for selling the worms on his tree. He
quietly says, "Oh, I just realized that I should have asked for permission to sell
the worms. I'm sorry for forgetting."
The man shouts, "Eh? What did you say? You need to speak up so I can hear you.
Your voice can't be heard all the way down here!"
Chris shouts as softly as he dares, "I guess I should have asked for your permission
first. I'm selling the worms to raise money."
The man angrily screeches, "You certainly should have! It was very wrong of you to
sell worms off my tree to make easy money for your selfish ass!"
"I'm very sorry, sir. I just thought it might be a good idea to have enough cash to
be able to do something significant, like pay for something you need."
The man softens his tone, "Well, there's nothing we can do about it now. I see your
point. Continue with your project." Chris wonders what is up with the grumpy man's
mood swings, but hurries back to his booth where he's selling worms. By this time,
Chris notices the crowd is no longer made up of all fishermen, so he becomes
optimistic that he might meet someone who will be his friend. He doesn't wait long
before a virtually wrapped surprise trots up to the booth. Chris notices that the
boy is about the same age as him.
The boy comments, "You look lonely."
Chris says, "Tell me about it! I'd give anything to have a friend right now."
The boy replies, "I'm willing to be your friend and was wondering if you would like
to go fishing with me. I don't have quite enough money to buy all of the bait for
both of us. A small discount would help me very much. I have enough equipment for
both of us."
Chris scratches his head in consideration. The boy's anxious expression convinces
him. Suddenly Chris hops up and down, runs around the room, and then shouts, "Yahoo!
It's a deal! In fact, I won't charge anything for the worms!"
The boy gives Chris an odd look that makes him realize how odd he must look, so Chris
decides to quiet down a little bit. They wait a little longer, and without any new
customers, Chris decides to close.
They spend several satisfying hours casting and struggling to reel in humongous,
flopping fish. Chris learns that the other boy's name is Michael. Chris and Michael
get coated in fish slime. Chris comments, "I like fish slime a lot more than I like
Catalpa worm slime."
Long after dark the two boys finally trudge home. Michael says, "I certainly had a
great time, and I certainly want to try and become your lifelong friend!"
Chris looks at his friend with a grin big enough to fit the Grand Canyon inside. He
then thoughtfully responds, "Lifelong pals ... that certainly does sound wonderful."
After a brief pause, Chris states, "I'll be honored to be your friend!"
Long after dark, they reluctantly say goodbye and go their separate ways down the
road. When Chris gets home, another surprise awaits him. Grandma looks like she just
worried a lemon or something, because The lines on her face make it evident she has
been frettign about Chris. She nearly shouts, "Where have you been!"
The grin on the boy's face fades quickly. He says, "I've finally found a friend! I
went fishing with him. I must have caught 500 fish."
Grandma sighs, and the worried lines on her face slowly fade away. She gently
states, "I'm glad you finally have someone to be your pal." She smiles weakly as she
says, "I'd like you to read a book of poems for four hours tomorrow."
Chris moans, "Grandma, I'd planned on seeing my new friend tomorrow. Can't I read
the poems later?"
"I'm sorry Chris, but you cannot read them later. I have a feeling you'll need some
information that one of them will give you." Chris reluctantly submits and goes to
bed.
The next morning Chris goes about his morning routine gloomily. Chris reads poem
after poem. The morning seems to go on forever. Chris notices a highlighted poem.
The poem basically says that fear is one of the biggest motivators of all. After
reading the book of poems, Chris says, "I can't see how this will be useful! I'm
glad I got that over with. Things can't possibly get worse, so I'll go check on the
tree." To the boy's horror, the tree has more worms on it than before!
Yet another very shocking and unpleasant surprise awaits Chris, however. When the
boy tries talking to the old man, Chris is shocked by the man's response! Apparently
word gets around very quickly at the lake, but most people would be happy at the
news. The old man's mood is more sour than ten lemons together. The man snaps, "I
bet your new friend put those worms on this tree!"
The old man's words struck the boy like a bullet. Chris manages to reply, "I don't
believe Michael would put worms on your tree, sir."
The man grumbles some words and slams the door in the boy's face. When Chris tries
going to Michael's house, he finds out that Michael is sick and cannot play. Chris
finds no happiness in looking at the tree. It actually causes him to start sobbing.
The old man's hurtful actions and words spin around in Chris' head. Chris is
overwhelmed by emotion. He sobs in the grass until no more tears will come out of
his eyes. Eventually, He listlessly drags his feet back to the tree and scowls at
one of the worms. He suddenly says, "Now what am I going to do?" The worm is
silent.
Chris continues, "Are you even afraid of me?" Chris collapses onto the ground,
moaning about his luck.
Chris feels terrible! After a few more hours of sadness, his sobs start to have
silence in between them. Just as the boy thinks he's managed to stop sobbing, he
starts over again. The boy's sobbing eventually tapers off for good. Once again,
something unexpected is on the verge of happening.
Slowly, gears start ticking as the fuzzy outlines of an idea work their way into
the boy's head. He slowly contemplates as the gears in his head grind their way into
motion once more under the demand of the problem at hand. After a while his mind is
illuminated by a brilliant idea.
He will use fear as a motivator to keep the worms away from the tree completely! His
other ideas were just to kill off the worms on the tree. He hadn't thought about
other new worms migrating to the tree. He will use the fish he caught and hang them
in the Catalpa tree!
Chris dashes home, totally refreshed by his new idea. He grabs the fish out of the
freezer, nearly running over Grandma in the process, and rushes around gathering
supplies.
He puts everything in a plastic tub he found and dashes back to the tree as a blur of
color. Despite some odd looks from neighbors, Chris begins hanging the fish in the
tree.
When he does this, all the worms quickly squish their fat bodies away! It works
like a charm! Chris pounds on the door. The man opens the door with a gun in his
hand. Uh oh! Chris' mind begins to race. "What if he really is a killer?" Chris
wonders. He pushes the thought away and closes his eyes and waits for it to all be
over. Chris' heart pounds faster and faster as he waits for the bullet to pierce his
chest.
"What on earth are you doing trembling with your eyes shut like that? I'm pretty
sure you're aware that it's not Christmas, and I must admit your decorating taste is
a little...unique. But I would have thought you were having a seizure or something."
When Chris opens his eyes, he realizes the old man must have put the gun away as soon
as he saw the boy's beaming face. Chris realizes he's been holding his breath, so
he pants in rapid, rattling breaths.
The man's mouth began to close after dropping open. The old man apologizes for
his behavior, explaining that he's not quite crazy enough to expect Chris to do
dental work. Chris laughs at the old man's apology in the form of a joke.
"Some sense of humor he has," Chris thinks to himself. "To think of explaining
that the reason his mouth was open so wide was not that he expected Chris to perform
dental work!"
The man squints and wipes his eyes for about the 10th time. The worms are
slithering down the sidewalk and away from the man's house! The old man invites
Chris
into his house, and Chris happily accepts. After all, Chris didn't want to make the
man mad by refusing. They talk for an hour, and Chris and the old man explain the
misunderstandings and other mistakes each made, and they soon realize they are much
alike.
Chris learns the old man's name is Mr. Josiah. Mr. Josiah apologizes for getting
angry with Chris. After a long visit that answered all of Chris' questions---even
though the boy didn't need to ask about most of them---Chris walks briskly home.
The next day, Michael feels much better and is able to play with Chris once
again. It appears that Chris solved the problem with the worms for good. The worms
will not get anywhere near the tree even though Chris took the fish down from the
tree a few days ago.
Chris reclines in a chaise longue and soaks in the wonderful summer sun's warmth.
The boy contentedly states, "I conquered the Catalpa worm. I managed to find
something
fun to do even though I had previously thought this was impossible. I even managed
to make two friends. Not to mention that I'm rich! After solving all these
"infeasible" problems, what else is left for me to do? Maybe I'll simply concentrate
on the "task" of chilling out! Either way, I'm A-OK!"
Just as Chris finishes saying this, a person whom Chris had never seen before walks
up. "I've got a job for you," the mysterious person says in a gruff voice. Chris
wonders what trouble he's gotten himself into
...To be Continued.
4. First man Part III, By Steak
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First man looked up into the crowd, knees legs and feet were all he saw, not much
else. Its all he had been seeing all morning, knees, legs and feet. In fact it was
all he had been seeing all week.
After he had left his over domineering wife he had found himself wondering the
streets, pondering his existence in the universe. After a while he had run out of
money, so he had acquired a small working job in a kitchen cleaning dishes. The pay
wasnt great but it was something, enough for him to drink himself into some kind of
unaware coma every night and then get up and spent the rest of his life watching the
people walk on by.
He was homeless; he had never been homeless in his life before, in fact up until
that encounter with his now ex wife (who was more than likely now screwing some
looser she had just met) he had been relatively normal. He had possessed a job, an
accounting director for a major software company, it had been a cubical job, a shit
pushing job, something he had hated with vengeance. He had spent most of the days
there literally watching the clock tick away until five when he could go to what he
called home. The very same day he left his wife he had left the job, he hadnt even
bothered to pick up his belongings or pay packet, he had just up and left. When he
came to think about it he had left his entire life behind that day. He didnt think
he regretted it. Besides, there he had been wasting his life, he may now be on the
streets, poor and homeless but at least now he felt like he was living his life to
the full.
He decided not to dwell on the past but to concentrate and try and enhance the
present for a better life.
A female face came into view and he noticed for the first time that he was still
looking up into the crowd, the face belonged to nobody he knew, it was just a face,
just a person, one of the many hundreds of thousands who had walked past him that
week. The difference was that he hadnt really been looking at their faces before,
just there legs as they walked past where he was sitting.
The face moved on and became camouflaged in with the rest of the crowd of commuters
all going about there daily business that they for some reason obviously thought was
so important. Being at the bottom of the heap thought first man means that you
have a uncluttered perspective on things, I can see everything and everyone now for
what it really is, just a unorganised, tangled collection of entities all going
about what they think they need to do to survive, it is equality at its best, there
is no prejudice here, theres no racism or discrimination, everyone is at a perfect
equilibrium of unimportance. Except, of course for me.
He looked out again into the forest of legs, all walking towards a common goal that
seemed just out of first mans comprehension. The morning was a cold one; it had
been steadily getting colder now for a few days. First man still wore his jumper and
pants that he had been wearing the day he had left his wife. These garments had kept
him warm for a little while but they were getting more and more inadequate. So he
dug into his pocket to see what he could come up with, there was a little money, a
note and a few silvers. He had already eaten breakfast and he had enough drink to
keep him going for a little while so he decided to treat himself to some new
clothes.
Across the street from where he was sitting was a second hand shop so he got up and
made his way towards the smell of old ladies, mothballs and rotting fabric. For a
few moments he was a commuter again, another guy with a mission, something to do,
another nameless face in the crowd of thousands.
He opened the door of the shop and walked inside, he needed something warm,
something functional and something that would serve him well in the coming cold
months. He moved towards the jacket hangers and flicked through the pathetic
selection, a ladies shiny eighties jacket, a kids blazer and a few other useless
garments lined the hanger. There wasnt much to choose from, even though he was
homeless he still didnt want to look stupid so he decided to see what else the shop
had to offer. He couldnt find much and was about to give up when he came across a
large blanket in the corner.
It looked nice and warm; he picked it up and felt the texture, just right. It was
nice; he wrapped himself up in it and immediately felt better and warm. Yes this was
going to be his purchase. He took his new blanket over the counter where the strange
blob of ageing decomposing flesh; gender unknown, charged him for it.
He was a little annoyed that he hadnt found a jacket, the blanket was good but it
meant he would have to carry it around when he wasnt using it, he couldnt wear it.
The thing took his money and got out a pair of scissors to cut the label off. An
idea flashed through First mans mind.
"Can I borrow those scissors for a second, please" he asked
"Of course young man" said the blob
First man cut himself a head shaped hole in the middle of the blanket and threw it
over his head like a poncho.
"Thanks" He said and handed the scissors back
He walked out again into the cold morning air, though this time he didnt feel it so
much because of his new poncho. He was thoroughly bored of his spot; he had been
sitting there all week. He wanted something new, he picked a direction at random
and decided to just walk that way until he found somewhere nice to sit down with his
new blanket.
He felt in his back pocket, checking to see that all his positions in the known
world, his alcohol and money were still there. They were and he set off in the north
direction.
He walked for a good hour, just taking streets at random and seeing where they went.
If he got a dead end he would simply turn around and choose another direction. in
the end he found himself standing at a train station, he looked around and decided
that he would go and watch the people arriving and leaving the city.
It was about midday and the station was pretty packed. There were so many people,
all getting on and off trains, trying not to look like they wanted to talk to
anybody.
First man sat down and started watching people. This was something that he liked to
do, just watch, sit and watch. He would watch people go about their daily business,
he would notice everybody, not what they were waring or what they tried to express
as some useless excuse for a personality, not even as individual people, it was as
if he was a separate entity, performing some kind of scientific study on these
strange species named homo sapiens.
He watched a group of young men, they werent there for any good reason, they had no
trains to catch, they were just sitting around in a group loitering at the station.
Occasionally a small bird would walk past and they would throw rocks at it to
relieve the boredom that First man could see in their eyes.
For a moment First man thought the head of the group had made eye contact with him
but on closer inspection he found out that his eyes had been playing tricks on him.
He turned his head to watch a small group of nuns get on a train and when he turned
his head back to the gang they had disappeared.
He was right in the middle of watching a couple of young lovers having a very public
fight in the middle of a platform when he felt a tremendous jolt of pain to the side
of his head, he looked down just in time to see a rock, the one that had hit him in
the head bounce on the ground and roll away.
He looked to his left to try and make out who had thrown the rock and his eyes met
up with the leader of the gang again. The leader looked at him with disgust, First
man looked back, a little scared but all the while interested as to what it was they
were going to do. The side of his head was still throbbing from the impact.
"What the fuck are you looking at bum?" Asked the leader
"Well I was looking at you guys earlier, then I was looking at those nuns"
replied First man, completely in truth
"A smart guy huh?" Said one of the gang members
"Why the fuck were you mother fucking looking at us cunt?" yelled the leader
in First mans face, so close that First man could see the fillings in almost
all of his teeth, a sign of a spoilt childhood
"Its what I do, I like to watch people" said first man
"Well were gonna teach you to keep your mother fucking eyes off us man" Said
the leader again
First man wondered wether the guy had some sort of deep seeded problem about having
sexual intercourse with his mother because he kept accusing First man of it. But
before First man could get far along this line of thinking almost all of the gang
had jumped into action and were laying punches into him.
First man crawled up into the foetal position inside his blanket as the gang kept on
hitting him relentlessly. One took out a baseball bat he had hidden in his jacket
and started to smack him in the legs with it. First man didnt really feel most of
it, his mind was elsewhere, his mind wandered back to the last instalment of his
adventures where he had met the author of his own life and he wondered why the hell
Steak was letting him get beat up in a train station by a gang of youths. He wasnt
sure what it was all meant to accomplish but he had faith in the great writers
story telling ability so he stayed there and took the punches as best he could.
After the gang got bored of beating him up they told him never to come near these
parts again and walked off. First man lay there for a while, wrapped up in his
blanket with blood pouring out of almost every orifice his body possessed. He felt
his lip, it was swollen and bruised, he felt inside his mouth, at least two teeth
were missing, many more chipped. He was in constant pian but he didnt care, he just
lay there waiting for some sort of resolution.
He wondered why he didnt care; why he didnt give two tosses that he was lying here
half dead. And after a good bit of thinking it came to him, it was because he was
better than that. Better than the pain, better than the bruises, better than the
gang, better than the crowd, better than everything. He was supreme ruler, after all
this was his story.
He got up and found his way to the bathroom, as he was walking there he scared many
a little child and old person, he wondered why that was, when he got to the bathroom
he found out why. His body was mangled, it was a horrible representation of the
person who he used to recognise in the mirror. But the more he looked, the more he
felt like he had won and he was better, the more he looked the more he realised how
much the gang were idiots.
He started laughing, carefully and slow at first then, after a while uncontrollably.
They were stupid dumb simpletons. They had regressed to physical violence because he
had looked at them. Looked at them, how stupid was that? he couldnt stop laughing
at how idiotic they were.
He cleaned himself up and walked outside, the sun was shining down and it was a nice
day. His bones were broken but he didnt care. He was better than everyone, the
world owed him one.
First man was suddenley struck by an idea, he didn't know where it came from, it was
as if some greater force had placed it inside his head for no reason what so ever,
he remembered a name and a number.
He walked over a to a pay phone, put his last coin into he slot and punched his
finger into the buttons. He heard the familer ringing of the phone, the sound
reminded him of all those phone calls he used to make in that dreded office of his.
He hand't got far with this thoguht when the phone on the other end of the line
was pickd up
"Hello" a strangley familer voice said
5. Command Not Found by Gir
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> pie
pie: Command not found.
Gerald didn't believe that at this exact moment in time, the one he was in at
right this moment, this very second that just passed on by, that the pie
command wasn't working. It was late and in his dull hole of a town, everything
was closed. And besides, an artificially rendered pie tasted better than any
of that wussy organic stuff anyways. There was plenty of the organic gunk left
over from the weekends celebration, but why couldn't Gerald get some digi pie?
For the longest time, Gerald didn't even like digi pie. Just like he used to
prefer the sound of organic music, Gerald used to be quite the conservative
domestic on this world. But while stationed in patrols pods throughout the
galaxy's regions the only thing available was digi. Digi music, digi food, and
even the ocasional digi woman, all of the advances in technology had converted
Gerald into a tech fiend. Even though he tried to remain true to the roots of
his spieces and tribe, the wonders of modern science were to great. Especially
the digi pie. There wasn't much that Gerald wouldn't do for just a piece of
digi pie.
"It's Gerald. There's something wrong with the node I'm on. I can't find the
digi pie....Uh huh...Yeah, I tried that already. It was the first thing I did.
I use this node alot and am pretty sure I have it synced up to the digi food
modules. That's true, I'm not sure if it's upgraded, but I used it as recently
as last night to whip up a couple of digi pies. Some of the terrestials didn't
like the fact that we had organics for the party and refused to eat unless I
scored some digi pie. I shoulda just gotten another one. Normally I will do
that, make an extra pie for later. But some of those terrestials were pigs."
Over the communications wire implanted in the side of his skull, Gerald listen
to the artificals advice as it tinkered with its nodes.
"Yeah, can you connect to this node and see why the pie isn't there?"
Gerald knew his way around the nodes, but it was still very basic user stuff.
He could do complex things if he had to, but the artificals were better at it.
Besides, it was regulation to let an artifical straighten things out if they
were available and Gerald wasn't about to lose his digi privledges (especially
his digi pie) because he wasn't following procedure.
6. U2 'Elevation' Live, 2001 A review by steak
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When most people think to themselves hey Im going to host a U2 concert they dont
get very far with the idea for obvious reasons. But if you happen to actually be U2
then putting on a U2 concert becomes considerably easier. And that is exactly what
those loveable bunch of Irish lads did during 2001, they went around to a few of the
countries of the world, not Australia of course, and played a selection of their most
popular songs for the fans.
They played their concert no less than one hundred and thirteen times, each time with
its own different combinations of songs and speeches. On two of these nights at the
Boston fleet centre, some television cameras were lucky enough to be there to pick up
the action, and most of the second of these two nights we get to buy on DVD and VHS.
Unfortunately, in less than characteristic bad form for there still is no stand-alone
CD soundtrack available. I guess U2 didnt want another compilation CD out with the
same songs featured on it (live or other wise) and I suppose you cant blame them for
that.
The night in question was the 6th of June 2001, and U2 played the following songs in
this order:
Elevation
Beautiful Day
Until The End Of The World
Mysterious Ways
In My Life / Stuck In a Moment (You Can't Get Out Of)
Kite
Gone
New York
I Will Follow
Sunday Bloody Sunday / Get Up Stand Up
In a Little While
Desire
People Get Ready
Bad
Where The Streets Have No Name
Pride (In The Name Of Love)
Bullet The Blue Sky
With Or Without You
The Fly
One / Wake Up Dead Man
Walk On / Hallelujah
Of these twenty five tracks, we get to see twenty, the exclusions being Mysterious
Ways, In My Life, People Get Ready, Pride (In The Name Of Love) and One. Why they
chose to leave these tracks out I really dont know, Pride, One and Mysterious Ways
are some of their best songs and it truly seems criminal to leave them out when U2
did in fact perform them on that night and the concert goers got to see them. But we
do get a lot of good track, so I shouldnt really be complaining.
In fact I really shouldnt be complaining because this concert can be summed up in
one word, and that word is beautiful. The band has chosen, in this concert to
revert from the high spectacle, multiple special effects extravaganza standard that
was Popmart and ZooTV back to a more up-close-and-personal performance. The concert
accomplishes this in many ways, the most obvious being the fact that there is a giant
heart shaped stage that encircles the entire first twenty or so rows enabling the
band to walk out across this strange bridge into the sea of admiring arms.
Some of the music has been changed slightly from the album versions for the live
performance as is often the case with events like these, but in this case most of the
revisions are better than the originals. In fact some of these moments are so good,
they really should be classified as the definitive versions.
Until the end of the world is one of these, mostly because of Edges amazing guitar
solo at the end. As he and Bono walk out over the bridge playing and singing
respectively its almost like his guitar is a long staff of creativity that hes
waving out over the crowd, all the while battling against the evil that Bono is
portraying. Everyone in attendance is completely mesmerised by it, and I dont blame
them, the DVD version is just as hypnotic
The transition from Bad into 40 then again into Where the streets have no name
is probably the highlight of the entire show. And bono uses his natural charm and
charisma to pump up everyone in the whole arena into chanting "How long - to sing
this song" with their arms outstretched, lighters in hand, waving in sync to the
beat.
A quick interlude and we are treated to a rousing rendition of Bullet blue sky
which has bono shining out a high power spot light into the crowd signalling out
groups of people singing his Banta about gun control to them for a few seconds and
then moving on.
This song finishes and we get to watch the bands performance of everybodys favourite
With or without you another stand out. In this version Bono makes one girls dreams
come true by actually inviting her onto the apex of the heart and lying down with her
on stage, singing to her and cradling her in his arms like the ghost of some long
lost lover. I often wonder if he did that in every version of the concert that he
did. If this is true it would mean that he was sharing that deeply personal moment
with one hundred and thirteen different good-looking girls over the time that the
concert was showing. Makes you think a little doesnt it?
The band finishes with one of my new personal favourites walk on which lends the
perfect lead out to the show; its a wonderful song expressing the difficulties and
responsibility of a less than perfect love affair.
This concert is worth every penny that was spent on it, and quite possibly a little
bit more. I would seriously recommend this to anyone, because if you dont like it
then there must be seriously something wrong with you, either that or your one of
those people that wont give something a try because of pre-made assumptions.
7. When Dark Meets love Part 1, by White Raven
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I remember, on that fateful night, I was walking through an alleyway soaked with
rain. Immersed in my own thoughts I had absolutely no idea as to what was going on
about me. I remember I was thinking about all of my problems, and for some reason the
recurring vision of a blood-soaked sword slashing down from the darkness. I was still
trying to figure out what it meant.
I had just left a party, and even though I knew it was stupid to be out walking
alone, I really did not care. I had too many dark thoughts on my mind to really care
about some potential rapist who might be lurking in the wet bushes. I was living out
my life as a mindless drone, oblivious to others' feelings or dreams. At least I was
that night. I had enjoyed myself thoroughly at the party but as soon as I had left it
it seemed as if the inevitable darkness of overwhelming thought came to descend upon
me as it often does, like a swift falcon perching on ones' shoulder.
The cobblestones accepted the rain like it was a thousand sweet kisses. I was in a
dark navy furlined coat, pulled close about me, my wet hair falling down about my
face and shoulders. Concealed beneath my cloak, attached to a leather belt, hung a
sword in its sheath. The sword's sheath was engraved with many intricate patterns,
and the hilt of my sword had a golden dragon upon it. I had acquired it from a
Japanese man whose ancestor had been a Samurai. He was terribly drunk and I suppose
was smitten with me when I did this. Nothing else would have made him give up his
family's sword, and I suppose that if one could be in love with an object, then I was
in love with that sword.
I felt rather than heard the footsteps moving in perfect synchronization with my own.
I stopped, and they stopped. I started, and they started again. At first I believed
it was simply an echo, and that I must be in a state of paranoia. I resumed my
pondering. I continued to walk along the cobblestones in the dark alleyway, passing a
drunken street man as if he did not exist. Normally I would have stopped and put a
few coins into his hat there, but I was so immersed completely that it seemed I was
walking throughout a dream world.
I passed a pile of stacked crates, and a soaked rat streaked across the road. I
watched it run, I was an artist, and every aspect of a creature running, or fluid
movement intrigued me. The sign above the door creaked in the wind. I grabbed my key
and stuffed it into the lock. I pushed aside the heavy oak door and locked it again
behind me. I removed my wet cloak and started a fire. I changed into my sleepwear and
sat upon an old armrest gazing at the fire. I watched it eat into the wood. It seemed
to me as if fire was a hungry child almost, and if one looked at it one could see the
small hands moving and carressing the wood, sucking the life from it. Fire was my
favourite element. It was so alive and so powerful. It inspired beauty, destruction
and rebirth at the same time.
I fell asleep, and in the mists of my dreams came the sound of someone screaming. The
flame wall parted and dissipated into nothingness. Then, a sword. Not my sword, but a
sword of equal beauty, with its blood channel running crimson, and the silver blade
soaked a dark red with blood. The sword's blade lifted up and made to do an arcing
slash, the blood flying off the blade and looking like a ribbon, following the
sword's every movement. When it seemed as though the sword was about to strike me in
between my eyes, the dream vanished.
The next night I found myself needing to go outside for a stroll. The falcon of sweet
depressive thought had yet again descended upon me. I picked up with delicate fingers
my navy cloak, and wrapped it about me tightly and secured the knot. I unlocked the
door and stepped outside, armed with my sword in its' sheath. It was still raining,
and thunder was gently sounding off into the distance. I looked at the dark blue sky,
the same colour as my cloak, and began to walk.
I thought of many things, concerning me, concerning others. It really didn't matter.
I was always the bearer of other people's problems. I liked listening to their
troubles. It gave them a sense of ease, as if part of their problem had already been
solved. Lightly I stepped over the body of a long-dead rat, and then, I heard the
soft footsteps again. This time, I ceased my thinking and began attuning my senses
towards these footsteps.
Suddenly it occurred to me that the footsteps were, in fact, right behind me. Then,
it occurred to me that these footsteps were not my own as I had thought them
previously to be. I pretended to still be naeive of this fact, and then I placed my
foot on the gritty wet cobblestone in front of me and turned around so quickly and
sharply that I almost lost my balance.
Expecting to see nothing, I more than jumped when I thought I saw the figure of a man
pressed flat against the shadows. I immediately bolted, not daring to look back. I
heard the dreaded footsteps clicking on the stones behind me. And they were gaining.
I ran faster but still they gained. A hand flew out of the gloom and clapped around
my mouth, the other seeking my waist, but my right hand was already around the hilt
of the sword. With a powerful thrust I drew the sword. It made a beautiful sound as
it withdrew, as if the metal were almost singing. By virtue of surprise the man
backed off, then drew a sword of his own. He began to advance towards me.
Stepping out of the pure black of the shadows, and into the pale moonlight, I gasped
sharply when I saw the sword. It was the sword from my dreams. The image seared
through my mind of that sword stained with blood and dripping, aiming for inbetween
my eyes. My eyes grew wide and my body froze with fear that was almost not my own.
His eyes pierced and seemed to burn from underneath his raven's wing black bangs.
They hung over one eye. He gave me a charming smile and walked closer. I was under
his spell. I could not move. I could not even break his gaze. When he drew closer, I
saw that his skin was very, very white. He had the most beautiful features I had ever
seen in a male. Even though his skin deserved a better word than white, he made it
almost look good on his skin. His complexion was very clear, there was not a blemish
that I could see. As he drew ever closer, I could see that he was Asian in nature
because of the beautiful exquisite shape of his eye that was visible to me.
His coat was of the purest shade of black, and so were his pants. It did not seem to
matter to him that I wore pants, and quite baggy ones at that. Many of the men who
saw me wear pants under my cloak looked at me strangely. I gave them my best famous
icy glare that I could manage, and they would look slightly embarrassed and look
away. I could not give him any sort of glare but a fixed, unblinking stare. My eyes
seemed to fix onto his and would move to stay locked in his gaze even if I did not
will them to.
"You'll not move, will you." He said. His voice had the most charming Oriental accent
to it, but a very slight one. It was a very smooth, nice voice. His voice and
appearance actually made my heart beat a little bit faster, if that was possible. It
was beating so fast I thought it might burst out of my chest and go live a life of
its own. "Drop your arms, I will not harm you." And with that statement, he let his
sword clatter to the stones. I did the same. He stepped up to me so that he was right
in front of me and spoke right into my ear. He was about four inches taller than I
was. I liked that.
His whisper was soft and almost passionate as he spoke to me. He said that he had
been looking for me for almost forever and he kept calling me 'Ky?seisha,' which
means 'Saviour' in his native tongue. He spoke to me of what his family had
preordained thousands of years ago. He said I was supposed to fill some sort of
prophesy. He then slid his arms around my waist and pulled me right to his chest,
stroking my wet hair.
"Why don't you... come... inside" I managed to say. He flashed me a quick smile. He
knelt down and picked up my sword, and on his knees, presented it to me. I gently
picked it up and slid it slowly into my sheath. He then assumed position at my side
and gave me a gentle push to walk. He made a smooth motion and snatched his sword up
off the stones where it had fallen and sheathed his, too. He would not let me walk on
my own. He was always at my side, claiming because of 'the shock.' I knew better. He
didn't want me to make a run for it. I would not have attempted had I been given the
opportunity. I knew he could easily overtake me as before. I walked back to the
doorway of my house and opened the heavy door. He stepped inside right after me.
"Sir, who are you?" I asked boldly. "And may I get you some wine?" He only looked up
and said softly, "I do not drink. And I will save the first question for when you get
back." I nodded and walked into the cellar room. I picked up a bottle and one wine
glass and walked back to the living room. When I walked into the room, he was looking
at my artwork. He turned his head slightly in my direction as he sensed my prescence.
"Did you sketch these?" He asked flatly. "Yes, I did draw those." "I like them. They
are very good." I politely thanked him and serenely sat on the loveseat and waited
for him to sit down.
I had expected him to sit across to me, but he did not. He stepped over to the other
cushion and sat next to me, pulling up close and putting his arm around me. He was
apparently not afraid of physical contact. He was shameless. "My name is Hosashii.
But to you, call me whatever you like."
I had a sip of my wine and replaced myself on the seat, gently moving away from him.
"So, Hosashii, since that is your name, that is what I will call you by. I would like
to ask you something, but..."
He simply looked at me. "Whatever you wish to ask me. Ask it. I have no time to
dawdle around." "This may sound rude but... why are you so pale? Your skin makes you
look as if you are a creature carved out of ice."
He laughed a clear, almost crystalline laugh. For the first time his face appeared to
display some element of emotion. "Do you believe in the supernatural? In God?" I
looked at him blankly, and then, with some particle of slyness, I replied, "You know
it is rude to answer a lady's question with a question." I laughed a small laugh. I
rarely laugh. I used to laugh quite easily until I learned to keep in my humourous
displays for the sharpest and wittiest jokes. Or, unless I felt I wished to laugh.
Such was the situation. "I do believe very much in the supernatural. I am indifferent
to the belief of God or the Devil. I believe that no such place as Heaven or Hell
truly exists. I believe it is merely a fabrication of the mind meant to scare small
children into behaving acceptably. I would certainly be a fool if I did not believe
that something was out there, but I do not believe it is necessarily in the form of
Iehovah." "Such a wise statement for one so young." I curiously glanced deep into his
beautiful black eyes. "One so young as I? You do not look so much older than myself.
I am nineteen, you look as though you may be the same or a little older."
"You must listen close to what I am to tell you, and you must not be afraid. If you
are afraid, try not to be too afraid. It is fear that will eventually destroy us
all." He gently grasped my hand and looked at it, as if taking in every detail. His
hands were so cold they almost made me shudder. He flexed my fingers and stroked my
hand. Finally he spoke. "I do not know if I should tell you what I am about to when I
have only known you for..." He glanced at the clock. "Seven hours. Perhaps it should
wait until tomorrow..."
I was now so curious that I would do almost anything to get him to tell me. My
curiosity was always a characteristic of me, ever since I was very young. "Please
tell me. It is troubling you. What is it you must tell me?" He almost looked
embarrassed for a second. He looked back at my hand, pink with life, and then back at
his own, devoid of colour. I noticed his glassy nails. He sighed, and said very
quietly, "... I am a vampire."
This sentence changed the rest of my existence. Those four words impacted me like
someone had struck me a blow to the face. His hesitation seemed to make them sink in
all the more deeply. It now all made sense. The paleness of his skin. The glassy
nails. The coldness of his flesh. Of course I believed him. I had no choice but to
believe him. I simply looked at him. No words were needed. No words could have been
spoken that would have possibly come even a hairsbreadth close to expressing the
emotion in the room at that momen
t. I looked at Hosashii, and he looked at me, and we
both came to an understanding of one another. I do not know how else to explain it. I
saw the great pain that was before hidden in his eyes, and he saw the pain that had
been concealed in mine. I had always been a bearer of a great pain throughout my
entire life before that, and I do not know why. I had a pleasant enough childhood,
and I was raised by parents who seemed to know what they were doing. At least enough
to get me by without a completely dysfunctional way of life.
I reached over and brought the red wine to my lips. It seemed to have a different
taste now. Everything seemed slightly different. It seemed almost ironic though I
knew not why, that being that I was the only living thing in the house at the moment
other than my cat. I kept refilling my glass. We didn't talk, and the world continued
to get more and more distorted as I drank glass after glass.
I was now drunk. I hardly ever got drunk as I hardly ever drank. I started to laugh,
and I don't know why. The laughter suddenly ceased as some part of me regained
control. I went over to the corner and brought out my cello and began to play a slow,
sad melody. He watched me play, and listened to the music float around. When I was
finished, I stood up and almost fell over. I made a sarcastic remark and went over to
the glass again. I knew I'd reached my capacity for wine and went and put it with the
rest of my dirty dishes.
I fell rather than sat back on the couch and I had uncontrollable spasms of
hiccuping. I think I fell asleep because a couple of hours later I remember Hosashii
was holding me in his arms. He asked me if I was all right. I apologized for my
behaviour and I said that I apologized for whatever had happened while I was
completely drunk. He said I hadn't done anything indecent and then he laughed. He
asked me if I had a place for him to stay, and I replied that he could stay in the
cellar. I assured him no sunlight got in that area, as it was made of solid stone and
was below ground level. I then went up to my room and slept. I half heard him
bringing his coffin into the cellar.
The next night, I was asleep at a fairly early hour as I was quite tired from
practising with my sword. I didn't hear him sneak into my room. I couldn't have heard
him even if I was awake, because vampires have such a way of moving that they are
like cats sneaking in the dark. Besides, I was a deep sleeper. I have always been.
Eventually I did sense a prescence and eyes watching me. My eyes opened to tiny
slits. I didn't want the intruder to know that I was awake. I made to loom as if I
was going to turn over, but then I reached for the dagger underneath my pillow. He
saw the lightning quick movement anyway. He easily moved faster than I could see and
snatched my wrist, causing me to drop the dagger.
"You mustn't be afraid," He whispered. "I am going to drain you now, and you must not
waste your energy struggling. You must not lose yourself in the feeling that follows,
and you must be strong enough to refuse to die. Please, do as I say. I beg of you."
My eyes widened. My life was going to end at nineteen? Then a fierce determination
followed the moment of confusion. I took a deep breath, and I knew I must accept the
inevitable. I am a strong believer in fate, so I believed then that whatever was to
follow was meant to happen. "Do it." He gave me the most kind and loving smile anyone
could ever give. "Fearless Saviour." He said quietly.
He then slid his arms under me and held me up close. The same thought kept running
through my head. This is my last moment of my mortal life. This is my last moment of
my mortal life. Then he opened his mouth a little, no more than it needed to be.
Perhaps he thought that opening his jaws wide would frighten me. In his mouth, where
his eyeteeth should have been, were two long, slightly curved sharp teeth much like
the teeth of a mako shark. I actually thought they were beautiful in some strange
way.
He bent down a little. I felt his hair brush against my face. I think I heard him
say, just before those curved instruments of death were plunged into my neck, that it
would be alright and that he was there. I then felt a sharp, immediate pain from two
points in my neck. I gasped, and he held my hand. What followed was a beautiful warm
pulsating feeling, almost like a womb. There was a low thrumming noise, and a rythmic
sound. I couldn't place what the noise was. My whole body was tingling and felt
pleasure. The thrumming noise gave way to the sound of rushing water almost, but very
quiet. The rythmic noise overshadowed a small one that was faltering slightly and
growing weaker. I felt almost distanced from it. Suddenly, the realization of what
those two pounding noises were occurred to me. The louder, stronger one was his
heart, and the smaller one that was fading away was mine. I decided then that I had
to fight this feeling, even though I did not really want to. I wanted to just slip
into its' warm, pulsing embrace and sleep there forever. I began to fight. I would
live. I would live through this, and I would not accept death. That small beat of
heart grew slightly stronger, and began to beat in harmony with the louder one.
Hosashii withdrew his fangs from my neck with such precision I did not feel a
thing,although really I couldn't have felt anything anyway. Everything was so dreamy,
I felt as if I were standing beside myself, watching all of this. The lines in my
vision grew fuzzy and my eyes unfocused and refocused rapidly, and my head felt
incredibly light. I could not move because I was so weak.
Hosashii now seemed less white than before. He was almost normal coloured. I knew
that this was because of all of the blood he had drawn from me. Without any
hesitation, he lifted his wrist to his mouth and drew a line across it with his fang.
Within a second, the colourless line opened a little wider and gushed out blood. With
a swift movement he brought his bleeding wrist to my mouth with a one word
instruction, "Drink." I latched onto his wrist and began to suck, almost like a baby
from it's mother's breast. I was operating on pure instinct now, as the conscious me
was confused and seemed to be watching from behind my eyes, like watching through a
window at an activity that was happening outside.
Stronger and stronger I accepted the blood like a wild animal, sucking it from every
vein and capillary there was. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore, and ripped his
wrist from my grasp. I let out an inhuman whine, and then I immediately ceased it
once I realized it came from within me. I just lay there, afraid to move. An
inexplicable fear came over me, then passed within a minutes' time. I just stared out
the window for a couple of minutes as I lay on my bed, and then I felt the bed sink
as another body lay down beside me. Hosashii put his arm around me and comforted me,
saying that when he was made, he felt the same way. I turned and pressed myself to
him, crying. The sobs were uncontrollable, and he gently accepted me, stroking my
hair and rocking me back and forth, humming some melody which I had never heard
before but I found it to be very familiar, and beautiful. He no longer looked cold
and white to me, he looked completely normal. We sat there together for a long time.
I finally parted from his grasp and stood. The first thing I noticed was that my
sense of sight and hearing had greatly enhanced. Every line of vision was perfectly
clear and concise; and every sound was audible to me without the slightest effort. I
heard the rustling of the leaves outside, and I saw the movement of each individual
blade of dew-laden grass being carressed by the breeze.
The second thing I noticed was that every memory I'd had was clearer now, and not as
fuzzy as it had been just a few moments ago. Then, I had an embarrassing feeling. I
hurriedly excused myself and ran to the bathroom. I found myself unable to control
it. I made it in time, and I wandered back to the room once I was finished. I felt
horrible. Everything seemed to hurt, and my muscles were having involuntary spasms. I
couldn't stand anymore and fell onto the bed, where my body seized up, and then
relaxed.
"W-wh-what's... h-happening... to ... m-me..." He pulled me so I was half upright,
and began to comfort me. "It's okay, you're going to be all right, your human body is
just dying. You will be fully dead before the morning." It felt as if my body was on
fire as my body slowly relinquished it's life, like a silken cloth being slowly slid
off of a beautiful sparkling glass ball. I felt as if I was consumed in flames, I was
nauseous, and my body was convulsing. He looked concerned. Obviously, this had not
happened to him before. I leaned over and vomited on the floor. My clear vision
clouded and swam, and the whole room seemed to be rocking and reeling.
Then, my vision grew dark. I flopped down, and I remember not what happened in the
space of time that I was unconscious. Hosashii told me that events happened somewhat
like this: Hosashii gathered me up in his arms and kicked out the window. I do
remember slightly the sound of breaking glass, but it may have only been the echoes
of my tortured mind at that instant. He leapt down to ground level, which was a good
two storeys, and ran off down the street at a breakneck pace, all the while carrying
me, in my weakened state. He carried me to a place, of which name and purpose I will
reveal later, and put me into their care.
I awoke some hours later, in a strange, small white room, on a table, in my
undergarments. I screamed. A man who must have also been a vampire rushed into the
room, and I screamed again. He looked at me as if to see what was wrong, and I hissed
at him. It was a primeival sound, and I did not even know that I was making it until
I had finished. He looked at me strangely, then withdrew.
Muffled speech went on between the vampire and another voice in a separate room. I
tried to understand the words, but even I knew I was in a state of delerium.
Everything seemed so loud and blended together, and my head pounded with a ceaseless
throbbing as if I was being beaten on the side of my head with a heavy iron mace.
My tongue brushed against something odd in my mouth that had not been there before.
My tongue felt it again. It was long, pointed and quite sharp, and was curved
slightly. It was smooth and slightly triangular in shape, and then the image of
Hosashii with his fangs like a sharks' dawned on me. These strange things in my
mouth, they were fangs. The instruments of a killer. When I was a young child, I had
always fantasized about having fangs like that of a lion or other fanged animal, and
now that I had them it seemed... odd. I could easily pierce skin with these, as this
is what they were designed for. They fit perfectly in my mouth, and not as such like
the actors on nowadays television where the prosthetic teeth they wear make their
mouths bulge and look as if they have a toothache; no, these gave the outward
appearance of a perfectly normal face, but if the jaws open too wide, or if the mouth
smiles too broadly, curved fangs would subtly appear. Subtly appear yes, but the
appearance of them was not subtle at all.
I heard footsteps near the threshold of the room in which I was contained, and I
tried to sit up. It was then that I realized my wrists, ankles, neck, and waist were
all restrained by leather straps. I decided not to struggle against them for the
moment. For the moment. To my surprise it was Hosashii who stepped into the room now,
with a concerned look upon his handsome face. He came to sit on a stool next to me.
"I deeply apologize for having to restrain you, but when you arrived you were
completely delerious. You were thrashing about and ... you were calling out my name.
Can you speak?" What a rhetorical question. "Yes, I can speak. Can you please undo
these straps and give me some articles of clothing to wear before I claw you all to
shreds for seeing me in this state of vulnerability? Thank-you." He gave a very small
laugh. "And just how do you expect to claw me to shreds? What if I do not undo these
straps? What if I just sit here for hours, and what if..."
His hand brushed my cheek. It made a suggestion as if to go past my neck, but it did
not go any farther. I felt the pure rage begin to well up inside me. I was not angry
at him, I knew he was only making a boyish joke. I was angry at the ignorance of
everybody. Why had they not at least let me wear my clothes? I detested being nude or
as close to nude as I was at the moment. Especially in front of people I did not know
and one who I did somewhat know but not that well... and... I simply turned my head
and looked at the leather strap, and then at him. The hot, seething rage bubbled up
and expanded through to every one of my limbs. I pulled with everything I had in me
to sit up, like I was doing a sort of situp with four hundred thousand pounds of
weight on everything. I simply let the rage take control and watched as first my
right arm began to rise, then the left, and then my upper body. Hosashii's eyes
widened, and his eye that was not concealed by his beautiful raven black bangs
watched and took in everything. Suddenly, the leather straps on my upper body
weakened and snapped. The pieces of leather fell to the floor.
"And what if I do that?" I asked slyly. Hosashii said nothing. A forced laugh came
out of me. "I'll feel that in the morning. I believe I have just given myself a
hernia." Of course, I knew I would not feel it in the morning because I was a
vampire, and vampires are nocturnal. That was part of the stupidness of the
statement. Hosashii laughed. He stood up from the stool. He strided over to the
straps. "Don't kick me in the face." He said half sarcastically, and undid the buckle
that held my feet down. I didn't kick him in the face. "May I have my clothes now?" I
asked timidly. He said nothing, but walked out of the room, only to return a few
seconds later with an outfit for me. He placed it on the stool where he had sat and
said, "Come out when you are done." And he walked out and shut the door.
As I sorted out the folded pile of clothes, I realized that whomever had picked out
these clothes had impeccable taste. They must have already seen me before to have
picked these out, as the colours harmonized with the colours of my body beautifully.
There was a dark blue velvet coat that tied around the waist, and a matching shirt.
Also, there were navy pants and black boots. I found it strange that someone had
picked out pants over a dress for me, since I was a girl. I got changed and then
opened the door. I walked into a room with the vampire I had hissed at, Hosashii and
another vampire sitting at a table. There was an empty chair next to Hosashii. I took
it.
"Good evening, miss." Said one of the vampires in rapid Japanese. Hosashii looked as
if he was about to say something, but stopped when I replied, "Good evening sir. May
I ask how you fare?" in Japanese also. The other vampire raised his eyebrows and
laughed heartily. "A studier of languages, are we, pretty one?" Again in Japanese. As
is custom in Japan, I politely refused the compliment. Hosashii looked surprised. The
other vampire smiled. "A studier of culture, as well. Quite an intelligent one that
fate has picked to fulfill what is to be done. Are you still ill?" He asked. "Is it
alright if we continue to speak in Japanese? My associate here doesn't understand
English all that well." I replied that it would be fine if we continued to speak in
Japanese. I had not studied it for seven years to not use it. "I am not ill anymore,"
I continued. "I am feeling much better. May I ask who chose these clothes? They are
of wonderful taste." The vampire and his associates' eyes flicked to Hosashii. "He
did." The older one said. I assumed he was older because of the way the others spoke
to him. They spoke to him in the dialect one uses to speak to one's superior.
Hosashii looked at the table.
The associate smiled evilly. "For the past six hours he has checked on you every ten
minutes. If he wasn't checking on you or in the room with you, he was either drawing
sketches of you or he was pacing in front of your door. The only time he left was
about a fifteen minute period before you awoke. He went to, shall we say, 'acquire'
the clothes for you. He had drawn all of the sketches of you in different outfits,
and had chosen the one that most appealed to his tastes. The one you are wearing."
If a vampire was capable of blushing, Hosashii certainly was. He stared at the
vampire with such an intensity and such anger and embarrassment, that if looks could
kill, that vampire would have been dead in less than a second. The superior laughed.
"My associate is Hosashii's brother. They are twins, if you look carefully, you can
see the resemblance. That is where the similarity ends. They constantly bicker and
try to find ways of embarrassing one another." Hosashii was apparently burning with
anger. "Well, what about you,Takehiro, my dear brother," He snapped. "You were the
one who kept insisting that she would tear her clothes if she had them on. You were
the one who kept insisting that you should take them off of her. You perverted
disgusting creature. I saw your face when you did it. You disgusting thing. I am
ashamed to have you as my brother. Sometimes I wonder if they switched my real
brother with you at birth!"
Now all three of us were embarrassed. I was fiddling with the buttons of my jacket,
Hosashii was looking at the table, and his brother was looking at me. What made us
all further embarrassed was the fact that the superior was still laughing at us. "Ah,
young love," He said. We all looked at him. "such a beautiful and yet such a clumsy
thing."
"Fool..." Takehiro hissed under his breath. He said it so quietly that it wasn't
audible to the superior, but it was to Hosashii and I. Hosashii gave Takehiro such a
poisonous look, that it was at that moment I realized that there was no brotherly
love between them. Rather a deadly rivalry. And I had just become another object of
their rivalry. Joy.
Hosashii announced that he and I were going for a walk, and a look passed between him
and his brother. I changed the subject and said that we had better get going, as it
was only four hours until light. Hosashii held the door open for me, and we began to
walk.
"Where are we headed?" I asked Hosashii. "We are headed to a place," He said quietly,
"that nobody knows about. Especially not my perverted brother. I apologize for the
way he treated you whilst you were unconscious like that. I could not change his
mind. I tried. I'm sorry." I felt a little invaded. "What exactly, did he do to me
while I was out?" Hosashii hesitated, and said, "Well, he ... he took off your
clothes, and, well, what boys do." I got a little angry at this. "And what, exactly,
do boys do?" "He... tried to touch you in places, but I stopped him ... I yelled at
him for being such an idiot and for having no respect for you. That's all that
happened. I hate him so much I could just... I could just..." He made a vicious face,
but then regained control over himself. "I dislike him." He said darkly. "I dislike
him too, after what he has tried to do to me. I find that disgusting." He said
nothing after this statement for a while. Nervously, his hand eventually found mine
and we walked together, discussing our lives.
A great yellow moon hung above us, as we continued our discussions. Hosashii began to
hum a curious melody, the same one he had when he'd held me after my transformation.
"What is that melody?" I asked him. "It's a Japanese song that my mother used to sing
to me. It's called 'The Oath.' It tells the story of a hero called Squall, who
carried a difficult past and fell in love. He eventually got killed sacrificing
himself for the one he loved, because he'd made a promise to her that he'd do
anything for her. She was about to be used as a body for a Dark Sorceress when Squall
came. The Sorceress shot a gigantic ball of black energy at her, and Squall jumped in
front of it while pushing her to the side. My mother used to say he was supposed to
be very handsome and the woman was supposed to be very beautiful. My mother used to
call me Squall when I was young. I usually sing it when I have things on my mind, or
I sing it when I am nervous or afraid. I mostly just sing it when I think someone
else needs it. I thought you might have needed it when I hummed it for you." I was
silent for a minute, taking it all in. "That's a very nice story." I said. "Was there
anything so special as for your brother?" He sighed and said, "No. He dismissed that
sort of thing, calling it a 'nostalgic, melancholy reminescence of foolery.' To this
day, I still believe he does not know the meaning of those words. My brother was
never very educated. He is illiterate, and has a limited vocabulary, even for one who
has the gift of time to be wasted. Why are you so curious of my brother?" He asked.
"I only ask because I wish to know why he is the way he is. I have looked into his
mind. I have had that ability since I was a child of twelve. He has a very sad and
troubled past. As do you." He looked at me, and again we had that moment of
understanding between us. "I think I know why your mother used to call you Squall. It
is because she knew that if there was a person that important to you, you would do
the same thing that he did. Many people would not. You would voluntarily martyr
yourself for love. And I find that a very attractive quality in you." He smiled a
small smile. "We are almost there. You can probably hear."
I could hear the sound of the waves crashing, although I could not see them yet. He
led me through a pile of bushes and through a scratched path to a small cliff
overhang. It had a spectacular view of the ocean, but when on the beach, the little
alcove was hidden from view, the trees making it look as if it were just as flat and
groundless as the rest of the cliff. He sat down and looked up at the stars. "Not
many vampires I know take time to look at the stars. They say it is a waste of time,
and they don't notice them because they are always out at night. But then I wonder,
how can it be such a waste of time if we have the rest of eternity? How can it be
so?" I thought it to be an excellent point he made, as I sat down beside him. "I have
heard the other vampires say that I have remained too human. They say that a vampire
is supposed to be detached from most emotions. Rather as such that you see it rather
than feel it."
"I am not detached, as you say. I still feel many emotions. I have retained much of
my humanness." I said. "Yes, but you are a fledgling. I am two hundred years old. You
are two days." I thought for a second. "It makes no difference if you are two days or
two million years old. I will always feel, and so will you." He contemplated this for
a moment, and then seemed lost in thought. He looked so at peace when he was
thinking. He stared off into the horizon. He shifted his weight, and then appeared to
come back down to earth again. He was sitting so stock-still that it was almost a
shock to see him reanimate his limbs.
He then turned his gaze towards me, and then looked up at the sky, as if the answer
to some question was somehow written there. I lay down and put my hands underneath my
head, and looked up at the deep, endless expanse of space. I watched him think, and
then I watched the moon. He lay down and turned over to face me, and closed his eyes.
His saoft breathing was almost soothing. With my hearing I could also hear his heart
beat inside his chest, and I thought; how strange it is that a dead creature's heart
can still beat. How strange it is, also, that an undead creature can feel... love. I
understood at that moment, that I did love Hosashii. I loved him more than I had ever
loved anyone or anything. I listened to Hosashii's heart beat for a moment longer,
then closed my eyes.
I focused all my mental power on him. I attuned my senses towards him, and what he
was thinking. Finally, through all of the mists, I came to his thoughts. I had never
felt like it was an invasion of privacy, this using of my gift to read thoughts. When
I had been younger I had used it to help my friends, and to find out silly little
girlish things about boys. When I was just about there, I decided that I would not
read his thoughts. No, I thought. I will send a subconscious message! I told him that
he should speak whatever was on his mind.
Finally, he moved. He sat up, and so did I. He continued to stare for a second, and
then he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small wooden box. He passed it to
me. He watched me as I opened it. It was a beautiful silver necklace, with the
stylized figure of a lion roaring and the wind in its' mane. I held the necklace in
my palm and felt how heavy it was. The chain was light, but the pendant was very
heavy for its size. Just then, a breeze blew by and stirred his hair and mine. It
seemed to be like it was acting on cue. He looked away and started to hum again, only
that time it was a little less casual sounding, more comforting. I think he was
nervous. Just then I placed my hand on his cheek and got him to turn his head. Then,
I kissed him. I noticed that he was kissing me back, too, just as passionately. He
pulled me closer, and I held him. I heard his heart beat faster inside his chest, and
he held me very close to him, as if he was protecting me from something. He actually
seemed warmer, though it was probably just my imagination. He then just held me
close, and I heard him humming. He started to rock back and forth slightly with me,
and let out a sigh. His hand started to make circles on my back. He slowly stopped
all motion, except breathing.
After a few minutes, I heard a noise. It was coming from the inside of my head. It
took me a few seconds to recognize that it was music. After I realized it was, I
listened. He had ceased movement all together, and his breathing was incredibly slow.
I heard an orchestra playing the melody he had been humming. All manners of
instruments played, of the brass and woodwind, and it was so complete, right down to
the perfectly placed beats of the percussion. We stood there for as long as the music
played, and then he let out a long sigh and the music faded and died.
We walked back to the building in silence. I noticed a very soft clinking noise. I
looked over, and saw that Hosashii had an identical necklace to the one that he had
given to me. It was making a small metallic clink against the chain when it hit his
chest. I simply concentrated on him; the feel of him next to me, the gentleness of
his arm around me. I leaned my head on him. It began to snow very lightly as we
walked back. I saw the light that was so slight it was imperceptible in the air to
mortals. He opened the door for me, and we stepped in. Takehiro smiled and bowed to
me as I walked in. He gave the sourest look to Hosashii.
"Where exactly am I to sleep?" I wondered aloud. Takehiro gave me a charming smile
and said, "I've prepared a place for you." As Takehiro led me away, I looked back at
Hosashii. He followed at a distance. Takehiro grasped my hand and led me upstairs.
The way he grasped my hand reminded me of a lover and I stepped slightly back.
Takehiro smiled and gently gave me a tug to go up the stairs. I gingerly followed
him, careful not to let him touch me. In a way he appealed to me, and yet he
frightened, disgusted and intrigued me at the same time. He led me up to a room where
an ornately carved coffin lay on a table. I hesitated at the doorway. It seemed to
bug a part of me that there were no windows at all in this building, although I
understood the meaning why. I looked around the rest of the room, and saw a desk and
a dim lamp in the corner, casting eerie moving shadows about the room. A bookshelf
lined the far wall, with many books in Japanese and some in English. Takehiro bade me
'goodnight' I suppose one could say, although technically it was morning. I walked
over to the desk and saw a pile of papers.
The papers were coloured with pencils, and they were all in the likeness of me. I was
dressed in the top one in the outfit I was wearing. Every detail was intricately and
delicately drawn; each line was beautifully and masterfully sketched. Every wrinkle
in the fabric complied perfectly to the laws of physics. The shading on my face and
skin and on the clothes was in perfect synchronization with the proposed light
source. The gentle curves in my hair were drawn so realistically it amazed me, to say
the very least.
I moved that sheet to the side and looked at the next. I was drawn in a red and gold
outfit that looked Chinese in it's style. The top was a sleeveless crimson shirt with
golden buttons, a gold trim and dragons adorning the sides. The pants were very
simple, red with a gold trim and a dragon going down either leg. The next was an set
of clothes in deep royal purple, and the shirt seemed to have been made of angora or
some other similar material. The clothes were not of this day and ages' style, but I
found them to be appealing. I heard a knock at the door.
"Come in." I said, without turning my head. I knew who it was. Hosashii walked in and
shut the door. He strided over to me to see what I was looking at. He ran his fingers
through his hair nervously when he saw the pictures, and cleared his throat. "What?"
I asked him. "I like them." He picked up the one that had the red outfit on it. "Do
you like this one?" He asked quietly. "Yes, I like that one. It is my second choice
to this set I'm wearing." His face brightened a bit. "I'll make that one, then."
"You'll what?" I asked him. I'd never heard of a man who had sewn before, except in
very rare cases in which he had to learn or freeze. "I said I'll make that outfit
then. I can make clothes, you know. It's not impossible. I have the materials. It
will be fun. I don't know your exact measurements, though." I had never known a man
who could sew. I was a little surprised, but I did not let it show.
"About the coffin," He said with a different tone. "I have sabotaged the lock on it,
so my brother will not be able to lock you inside." "Takehiro would do such a thing?"
I asked. That was, well, weird. "Yes, he'd take the coffin to his room and be there
when you woke up. As I have said before, he is a perverted, disgusting, lowly
creature." I had to laugh. The way he said it, and the way he so readily insulted his
desperate brother seemed comical to me. "Well, alright. I have never had any case of
claustrophobia, so I should be alright. I flicked off the light, as it didn't matter,
because I could see perfectly well in the dark. I walked confidently to the coffin.
It was indescribable, but it was kind of scary, opening the lid of that coffin, the
symbol of death, and knowing you were going to lay down inside of that narrow,
cramped space, and act as if it were merely a bed, and shut the lid, voluntarily
trapping you inside. I gingerly lifted one leg into it, and then the other. "I detest
being alone in this room, inside of this abominable thing." I lay down and dropped
the lid, and startled myself when it made a loud bang. I heard him walk out, and just
as he was at the door, I opened the lid a crack and shouted, "Good morning!" and shut
it again. He chuckled slightly, and then I heard the door close and footsteps descend
down the staircase that was down the hall. I prayed that this was a new coffin, and
not previously used. I had a certain fear and hate of dead people, and now I was one
of them. How ironic.
I felt myself begin to grow stiff once I lost myself to sleep, and I reassured myself
that this must be normal. I then slipped into a strange dream. In it, Takehiro was
there. He opened my coffin lid and picked me up. I opened my eyes suddenly,
completely awake. I was in the coffin, as I had been. I opened the coffin slightly,
no one was there, and I was in the room I had been in, in the same place. Something
told me that it wasn't time to emerge yet, and I fell back asleep. This dream was a
complete replay of what had happened at the cliff overlooking the beach. The entire
dream was set to that song, 'The Oath.' I always had multiple dreams, and there were
more that night, but I cannot remember them. If I do not remember them, they are
unimportant. I awoke that evening, and opened the lid of the coffin.
I stepped out of my coffin, and walked over to the dresser where all of a lady's
necessities were. I sat on the stool in my nightgown and pulled up to the mirror and
began to comb out my hair. I had several different brushes and combs on the dresser.
I chose the black brush. Not five minutes after I had begun to comb my hair, there
was a knock at the door. "Can you come back in ten minutes? I'm not ready yet." I
turned back to the mirror and began to brush out a stubborn piece of hair. I was sure
had not moved in my sleep, so why was my hair all ruffled? I dismissed it as that I
must have moved during my sleep. The door opened without a knock. It was Takehiro. I
hate being intruded upon. I hate it. It was an invasion of privacy, and I was angry.
I picked up one of the extra brushes and threw it at him. He could have easily caught
it, but he let it hit him. He made a big show of how much it hurt. I found it stupid.
I picked up another brush, and threw it at him, harder and faster. It flew across the
room so fast, I heard the wind whistle in its bristles. It smacked him hard in the
top back of his head. He shut the door as he left.
"Good God." I said to myself, and continued to brush my hair until it was just the
way I liked it. I got dressed into my navy coloured outfit, and walked out the door
down to the room with the table, where I had been embarrassed the night before. There
was a bowl of wax fruit on the table. I picked up the apple and the orange and began
to throw them up into the air, juggling them. I put back the wax orange and began to
examine the texture of the apple. It was unnaturally soft because of the wax, but the
look of the apple was so convincing. There were the little white dots painted on the
apple, and there were little pores in the skin of the apple. I toyed with it for a
while. I let it run down my arm and caught it with the other. I meant to throw it up
in the air, but I let go of it too soon and it went flying across the room.
The most peculiar thing happened then. I made the decision to run and catch the
apple. As I leant and shifted my weight to take off after the apple, it seemed as if
time slowed down around me. I saw with my peripheral vision, Takehiro walking into
the room, but his movement looked almost heavy as he lifted his foot to take a step.
The apple, which was actually flying through the air quite fast, seemed to slow right
down to a crawl. I saw Takehiro's eyes move, almost so slowly it was painful, to look
up at me. It seemed as if time stopped altogether for everything around me, but I
could still move normally. I ran to catch the apple, and when I reached up and
touched it, time immediately raced into overdrive and went back to normal. I stood
dumbly, holding the apple, looking around at the room. "Um... that was... different."
Takehiro looked up. "What? What was different?" I explained to him as best I could in
Japanese what had happened.
"Ah. You've just experienced your enhanced speed for the first time. Look. Do it
again. Back up and throw the apple again, as hard as you can. About as hard as you
threw that second brush. Maybe a little less hard than that." He laughed. I blinked.
I stepped back as he said, and hucked that apple as hard as my arm would allow. It
started off to go extremely fast, as I had throw it with my unnatural strength. I
pushed off to go catch it again. The apple again slowed to a stop as I raced after
it. As soon as I got a grip around it, time sped up and allowed everything to comply
naturally again. "There, see? Easy as falling off a log, as they say here." "R-
right." I said as I began to step back to put the apple into the dish again. "The
more you practice with your speed, the faster you can go. To you, it may have seemed
fast, what you did. And it was. But, I can do it faster, I'll bet. Please pass me a
fruit." I sorted through the fruit dish and found a mango. I tossed it to him. He
caught it on the tip of his finger to impress me.
He took the mango and threw it as hard as he could. The mango went so fast it was a
red and green blur. The blur suddenly stopped and he was standing still, holding it.
He'd gone so fast he'd been invisible. "I could still see you, but you went pretty
fast for your first time."
"Thank-you for that impressive display of machismo." I said. "I obviously have much
to learn from you." He gave me a bright smile that displayed his large fangs and
almost made me sick. "Where's Hosashii?" I asked him. His face immediately changed
with the mention of his brother's name. He pointed down to the opposite wing, where
there was a staircase leading down out of the room. He turned away, going outside. He
stopped short of the door and said, with an evil tone to his voice, "I expect you'll
be making your first kill tonight? Perhaps we'll meet. Good evening." and with that,
he shut the door behind him and was gone.
I wandered downstairs. I'd never been there before. A door was open. I didn't look,
even though I was burning with curiosity. Hosashii suddenly walked out of it and shut
the door. A strange feeling came over me then. It was inexplicable. It was a burning
hunger, and it consumed me. Perhaps I'd felt it before, but didn't notice it until
then. "Hosashii... I do not feel so well... I feel so strange. I feel weak as well."
He looked at me with a degree of sadness and inevitability and said, "You are weak.
You must feed, or you will die." He took my hand and led me upstairs, back to the
room. He walked to the door. "Go get your jacket." He said flatly. I seemed to float
up the stairs. I picked up my cloak and fastened it. I ran down the stairs again, and
to the door where he was standing.
He opened the door, and we walked out together. "We'll go to the train station. There
are hardly any people there at this hour except for the drunkards, and we'll stay
away from the platform. If there is a chance that there are people around, they'll be
at a platform. We walked down the street, talking. There was a grim feeling that
seemed to hang about in the air. Neither one of us really wanted to take a life, but
we knew we had to. "When the time comes, you must watch me first. Watch, learn, and
copy. When you take a life, you must stop before the heart of your victim ceases to
beat. If you continue, you will be dragged along to death with it. We are just about
there. Talk of normal things. You pick a subject." I looked at the ground. "Ummm...
so, what shall we do whilst we are in London?" I asked with the best British accent I
could fake. I had been to Britain as a child and had taken a liking to the accents,
so I did my best to copy them. "We should see the best shows, and all the artworks
there. We shall meet the King." He said with a laugh. "We shall become rich and
famous, and travel the world together." I nudged him in the ribs. "Look to your
left." I whispered. He looked slightly to the left. There was a young man on he curb
of the road, sipping from a bottle of wine and talking to people only he could see.
Hosashii gave a small nod and split off from me. I stood in the shadows, observing.
"Okay, watch, look, listen, and copy." I breathed.
He walked over to the man and started to talk to him. He got the man to stand up, and
he took the bottle of wine and placed it on the ground. He brought the stumbling and
tripping young man over in my direction. Hosashii saw me slink back into the shadows,
and he saw that I was watching. Hosashii turned the man at such an angle that I could
see what he was doing, and yet it would look for all the world to a passerby that
Hosashii was whispering something in the drunken man's ear. It was quite clever the
way he had set it all up. The man saw something move in the shadows. It was me.
Hosashii took advantage of the man's distraction, and he opened his jaws, and with
the speed of a striking cobra, he sank his teeth into the man's neck. With my
clarified sight, I saw everything. The drunken man's eyes clouded over, and something
that sounded like a gurgle escaped the man's lips. He sunk down to the ground, and
Hosashii crouched down with him. I saw when the life was just about out of the man's
eyes completely, Hosashii withdrew his fangs from the man's neck. Hosashii shook his
head as if to clear it, and let the man's body drop down to the ground. He rushed
over to the dead man's wine bottle, and spilt the rest of the contents all down the
man's face and chest, and dragged the corpse over to the ridge that was by the train
station. The ridge led down to part of the ocean, and I realized now that we were
only a few streets away from where we had been last night. Hosashii searched the
mans' pockets, and took out the few crumpled bills and coins he had on him, and then
found a small velvet bag. I sidled over to him, careful not to be seen, in case
anyone was there. He opened the bag, and out fell several valuable stolen items. This
young man had been a high-class thief. There were two rings and a bracelet, which was
studded with diamonds. Hosashii pocketed the items and then lifted up the man with
somewhat less care than he'd handled him with before, and heaved him over the cliff,
tossing the wine bottle after him.
Hosashii looked up at me from where he was crouched, looking at the sparkling items.
He looked up at me with such a deep sadness and pain, that I reached down for him. He
stood up and held me. "I hate what I am. And now, I have dragged you into it as well.
Now, I've dragged you into being a senseless killer, too." I met his gaze and said,
"How can you be what you say, if you react with feeling and remorse for what you've
done? Even to what you've done to a petty theif, who probably deserved what you have
done? I do not think that is an element of senselessness." He said nothing, but I
think he understood.
"Now, it is your turn." He spoke softly when he said this. His body seemed
deliciously warm. "I'm not sure if I can do this..." I said. I was worried. I would
probably foul up, somehow. It was usually that way. Whenever I tried something new, I
would always find some way to foul it up. "If you don't do this, you'll die. You
haven't fed since you were made. Just remember what I told you, and you'll be fine."
He could feel my impending nervousness. "How should I do it?" I asked. "Well," He
started. "Since you are a woman, find a drunken man that's reasonably attractive to
you," He grimaced. "Then... I don't know, come on to him or something. Kiss him or
something, then, when he's... you know... smitten with you, strike. I believe you can
do it." He sighed. "It's more simple than it sounds, really. Go." I kissed him on the
cheek for good luck, and then I turned on my heel and ran off into the darkness, away
from him, my heels clicking on the stones, searching.
I searched through the darkness of the mostly abandoned station until I found him.
The perfect one I'd been looking for. I could tell by the rosy colour of his cheeks
he was pretty drunk. He was reasonably attractive, his features soft and delicately
formed. He was quite tall, and he had nice brown hair. As I moved closer to him, I
found I recognized him. His name was Peter. He'd been my childhood object of desire
since I was in school. I couldn't kill him. I decided that I had nothing to lose,
though, so I might as well have some fun with him. Almost like a cat plays with a
mouse. I'd find another drunken boy. This one was to be spared.
I gracefully walked closer to him, calling his name softly, like the cooing of a
dove. He looked up at me with clouded eyes. The clouds slowly receded as I walked up
to him. I knelt before him, and spoke his name again. He recognized me immediately,
and at once I drew up to him. This was going to be fun. It would give me practice in
luring my victims.
He swallowed and his eyes grew wide. He spoke my name softly. I smiled and stroked
his face. He looked at the wine bottle and tossed it over the ridge behind me. "Y-
you're not a figment of my imagination, right? You have been so many times... You are
real? You're here?" He said with supressed joy. I definitely couldn't kill him now.
"No, I'm here, Peter. Touch me if you wish. Where have you been? I've looked for
you..." He smiled. "All over the place. I've been so many places and seen so many
people... but none were ever like you." I knew I had to get out of there fast or I'd
fall for him again. I might even make him a vampire... It was a possibility. Maybe
later, but not now. I'd do it within the year if I was to do it at all. I swallowed.
"Peter, I have to go. I don't want to, but I have to. Can you do me a favour?" He
looked at me. "Anything. Anything for you." I smiled at him. I'd worked on my smiling
so I didn't express my evil little teeth I now had. Even when they weren't extended,
they were still sharp and a bit oversized. "Peter, do me a favour. Let me kiss you."
He swallowed again. "Let you? Let you kiss me? I've wanted you to for so long now.
Yes. Please. Hell, I'll never drink again! Can you kiss me now?" I smiled and stroked
his face. He'd never change. He was still the boy I'd known for such a long time.
Eager and somewhat immature. I leant down and pulled him upright. I felt his heart go
from normal to racing. "Relax, Peter. It's okay. I'm not going to bite." He had no
idea how accurate of an assurance this was. Once he stood up, he complained his head
was spinning. I told him it was most likely because of all the alcohol he had drank.
He smiled readily. He then relaxed completely. I put my arms around him. He put his
around me. I kissed him then. I stroked his hair with one hand while we kissed. After
a long time, I put my head on his chest and listened to his heart beat. "I don't want
you to go..." He said in a broken voice. This was too much. I started to cry lightly
at first, but then I began to cry with my whole heart. "I don't want to go, either...
but I must. I must for now." He held me tighter. "Don't go. Come back with me." He
had no idea how much I wanted to. "I wish I could, but there are circumstances in my
life I just can't change. I want to go with you so badly... I've missed you. I must
go. Now. No matter where you are, Ill be able to find you somehow. I'll visit you
again, within the year. Then, I'll share with you a gift that no one can ever take
away, not even time. I can't tell you what it is right now, because that would spoil
it." I looked deep in his eyes and saw the lust there. I stroked his hair again, and
continued. "It just might be what you are thinking in the back of your mind, but
there is much more I am to give you. Goodbye.
To be continued..
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