All death is not the same

    ~Pens&Keys


One of the best things about my father is that he is my father. Before I could walk into the house, he swopped me up in his arms. “My cherished daughter has returned home.” Hugging him back and burying my face into his hair. I exhaled.


Even though my father is my father, he is also my creator. Being around him replenishes me in ways I could never achieve with someone else or by myself. Behind the veil of his black hair, my mother stood smiling. Her red hair neatly styled in a French inspired updo. Her low-cut crimson red mermaid dress appearing as if it was hand painted on her body. Clapping her hands together, she smiled adoring at me. My father let me go, placing me back on my own two feet with a frown on his unageing face.


“Why the frown papa?”


“I smell death on you.” All the centuries my father has lived through, and yet his language is never without his Romanian accent.


“I am a vampire.” I said moving past him, making my way inside the house. Contrary to popular tales, my father did not live if in a castle. If he ever did. That was long ago. Instead, he opted for a mansion sitting in the center of Redrum Lake. Fitting.


“Alucard, I require a response. The death that clings to your skin it not of human death.”


Hugging my mother, she whispered so low in my ear I doubt my father could hear her. “Tu as rencontré quelqu'un.” My mother never missed anything, ever. For as long as I could remember she has known every emotion I ever felt. If I ate too much she knew, if killed someone on accident, she knew. What I did not know is if this was her vampire power, or mother power. Once when I asked her, she said, “My sweet darling I am the mère of a vampire.” The perfect nonanswer. The thing about my mère is that she never repeats herself. She has trained my father and I to always listen when she speaks because if you miss it, depending on how important it is. The results could be deadly.


So, asking her again would only result in silence. A new result with no clarification.


Pulling away from her and nodding my head. Curiosity spread across her lovely skin. I have always admired how nightfall perfectly describes her. Placing one blood red nine-inch finger on her chin, she laughed deeply. The sound resembling music playing in sanctuaries.


“Darling, lets discuss the smell of death some other time.” She suggested to my father, kissing him on his lips. My father’s dark eyes found mines and all I could do was shrug my shoulders.


“I would like to find Ethan.” I stated.


My relationship with my parents is an open one. If I wanted Ethan that meant two things. I wanted to feed, and/or I wanted sex. The two events are not mutually exclusive however they are closely related. My parents being vampires knew these feelings. They understood these feelings. I was never required to hide these feelings or pretend that they did not exist.

However, because of these emotions I could always use Ethan as an excuse to come home for no reason or to lie to get to my destination faster. Tonight, it is the latter.


With that I left my parents in the foyer of our home. Making my way upstairs noticing many of our human servants preparing. They polished white oak wood and cleaned glass frames. A few of the servant girls held interest in their eyes, others held horror when our eyes met. As I made my way to the top of the first set of stairs, I noticed the family portrait that once hung in the center of the wall was no longer there, neither was Persian black rug that covered most of this landing script.

This level of the house is nothing more than a gateway to led you to other sectors. Four black staircases, two descending, two accenting. The top left led to my wing. Running my fingers over the empty wall, I wondered what happened? My mother loved our family portraits, and my father cherished my younger days. Not because I was an easy kid, but because unlike him I changed. According to our family doctor I would continue to grow until eighteen. Unlike humans my changes were drastic and random. Once I stayed the same for three years.


There was no evidence of a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound black gold framed portrait ever hanging here. The portrait would change; however, they all were framed the same way. The dark purple paint must have been new. Was this wall always dark purple? It’s very hard to remember the wall behind the massiveness of those portraits. I would ask my parents about it later, as I turned to head up to my room. Ethan stood on the fourth step head bowed. His brown hair was shorter than normal. A half a second later, I titled his head up to reveal the grin I knew I would receive.


Ethan is the most incredibly outward boring person I have ever met. He wasn’t unique in any sort of way physically. However, what makes him interesting is his masochistic nature. My father gave him to me once he knew I held a taste for violence.

“The new girl tore it down. Once they told her exactly what she signed up for she went mad. She tore down the portrait and slit her wrist where you stood.” Ethan said.


Reaching out to touch his hair, I replied, “You cut it, why?”


The last thing I cared about was a girl that wanted to be in the presence of vampires for free. My parents did not drink from these girls. Giving them pleasure of any sort the first five years was out of the question. However, if they survived the first hellish five years. They would know euphoria.


“The last time I played in The Hunting Games. I was only caught because you grabbed me by my hair.”

Wait what? The Hunting Games?


“The Hunting Games? That’s not until…” After a quick calculation. Shit The Hunting Games was indeed tomorrow night. How could I have missed it?


Of course, my mother’s dress but to be fair she always dresses as if she is allergic to casual. The cleaning, the no questions from my parent’s as to why I am here before I mentioned Ethan. Of course they would assume it’s for The Hunting Games. Fuck!


“Oubliée?” Ethan is American, but sometimes he spoke as if he has lived his life in French.


“Completely forgotten. When does the games begin?” I asked.


“Tomorrow night.”


“Merci, find me tomorrow night before the game.”


Ethan nodded, as he stepped to the side to descend the stairs. Making my way up the stairs the lanterns beginning to illuminate my path. One thing the movies displayed well, was that vampires adored their darken rooms and low light. What they missed is that sentiment only applied to the 1st century vampires like my parents. Light or no light really made no difference to me. My vision never altered.


Passing by a bathroom that only existed to assist the servants in human things. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Plum red hair that fell to my shoulders in soft curls. Curly bangs covering most of my eyebrows. Elloren once said my eyebrows were so thick so people would know they were there. Carmine eyes, better known as the devil’s amulets, that fed me true sight. A direct inherited trait from my father.


Pushing my curls away from my oval face, I moved on. Past the bathroom, the hallway began to open more. The hallway was simply a line of floor length gold windows on both sides. Each dressed in pepper grey velvet curtains. These curtains are steamed every day and replaced every year. The black vaulted ceilings might as well be as high as the heavens. A sequence of black, gold, and pepper grey candelabra’s cover them. Each candelabra containing a witch’s candle burning with an undying flame. The marble floors created their own illustrations from the dancing flames.


Before I knew I inherited my father’s eyes, I would watch these flames tell stories of their owners. Sometimes they would spell out names. That’s how I knew the name of the necromancer that birthed Elloren. How I knew Elloren would forever be important. Now I wondered if there was more to it then that. Now knowing that I am The Spell.


I attempted to show my parents, but they could not see the stories in the flames. My father simply pushed my curls out of my face and kissed my forehead. At the time I did not understand the English he spoke to my mother. So, I kept the memory. When I replayed it years later, he had thanked her for giving him a child that could carry on his memories. Sometimes in my sleep I can see the hell he ruled over once. That’s how I know exactly the hell Elloren’s mother was birthed from.


Passing by Ethan’s room to the right, I could smell the scent of white. The aroma filling me with pleasant memories.

Opening the door to my room, nothing was different. No sign of dust or use. My California king bed dressed in crispy white linen sheets, begging for my attention. Four gold bed pillars reflected the moon from through the glass ceiling. Hearing the ocean through the white French doors soothed me. Running I jumped in the bed. It instantly latched on to me. Whispering “I have missed you.” In my ears.


Burying my face in the thick sheets the smell of home flooded me. Kicking off my shoes, I turned to lay on my back. The sky too dusty now to see stars. But the moon shined through the dusk. Mistic and sleepy but it hung high and bright. Soon it would be dawn, I could feel it. My blood dreaded it. The sun would never be my friend, but it wasn’t my foe either. My blood came from a creature of the night, it was never meant to mingle with the sun. I have all my father’s strengths all my mother’s human capacities. Beautiful silent violence, that’s what Ethan called me the day we met.


The vibration from my phone pulled me from my thoughts. Without looking I answered. I figuring it would be Elloren.


“Bonjour.”


“If you cut your hair, like the girl in this movie would it return to its length instantly?”


He spoke the question in French as if he was a native. His voice mellow but firm. Much different from the stern voice he used earlier in the night.


“Non”, I answered sitting up. “I am allowed to change. My mother was human when she birthed me. Humanity never leaves those of us who are born into what we become.”


“You were born a vampire? Not created by your father?” Godric asked.


“Yes, humans have power. Some of them aware some of them not so much. My mother wanted to become a mother. She became one. That’s her power. Doesn’t matter that my father turned me into a vampire before she gave birth.”


Taking off my scarf, I waited on the next question. He is curious about me. Which led me to believe the words Elloren’s mother spoke. “You have captured the heart of a Victorian.”


“Your original father was human?”


“Yes, however my father’s blood erased him from my genetic makeup.”


“Can you create or produce another vampire?”


“Yes and no. I cannot turn a person into something they do not wish to become. The humanity I was born with limits my overtake of other human souls. I can infect the body but not the soul. As for produce another vampire, I am not entirely sure. My instinct tells me no.”


For a moment I couldn’t tell if he was still on the other end. His silence is absolute. I have never heard anything like it.

Pacing my room waiting for him to say something dawn was on the edge of breaking.


“How did you know the movie I referred to?”


“Everyone who is curious about vampires almost always start with “Interview with a Vampire.” I replied.


“The little girl with the red hair, did you behave like that once you were told what you are?”


“Non, I can change.” Another half truth. There was a period when I was much worse. Lestat would have been proud. Louie would have been repulsed.


“Your mother is now vampire?”


“Oui.”


“Merci.”


“Je vous en prie Godric. May I ask you something Godric?”


“You have earned three questions tonight.”


“Only three? I practically gave you vampire gold information.”


“Doubtful St. Vincent.”


Rolling my eyes and sitting on the end of the sea green velvet sofa that faced my white oak bookshelf I asked,


“Why did you tell me to mention your name? And by the way it worked.”


Falling back onto the couch with my legs draped over the back of the sofa and my head hanging over the front. I could feel the first rays of dawn starting to approach the horizon on my skin.


“Your friend, she is a Blackgate. I knew her mother once, before she gave birth to Elloren. Her cruelty extends to everyone. My sister spared her life once. Her releasing you is now a debt paid.”


“Is that okay with your sister to use her leverage on me?” I couldn’t hear him thinking, but I knew he was. I noticed he did that. Took his time answering questions and digesting information.


“Oui. If she is undeniably upset about it, I will take her on a trip of guilt.”


“You mean guilt trip?”


“Phrasing doesn’t matter, meaning does.”


“It’s okay to not know the correct phrasing.”


Knocking at the door prevented me from asking my last question. “Are you really a God?”


Instead, I said, “Victorian I must go. Can I call you Monday night?”


“Oui.”


With that we disconnected our call.


“Come in.” Flipping off the couch my parents entered my room.


“Was that the someone on the phone Alucard?” Nodding my head my mother smiled.


My father said glanced between his wife and I. He must have felt the urge not to ask any questions. Instead, he presented me with the rundown of the events scheduled for tonight. The Hunting Games are more than games. It’s our tradition. Our family reunion so to speak. We said our good mornings and off to our coffins we went.