Lost in Time (chapter 1)
When he regained consciousness, the last thing he remembered was narrowly escaping death. His veins filled with the Necrobeast’s blood. In theory, the toxin could have killed him if it reached his heart, but his heart was beating so slow, he was able to survive.
Because he hadn’t had any human blood for a while, he managed to make it through the attack. Not all members of their species have this ability. To him, self-control was obtainable by the tea in made. A tiny bit of blood was added to keep him alive. Definitely not the same as consuming a fresh individual. But it was enough to keep his heart beating normally in the time between meals.
His hesitation to kill was not motivated by any sense of morality. Indeed, it was essential to the survival of his kind. Something he accepted centuries ago. He knew that the tea he brewed would sustain him for the weeks he went without food. Keeping his heart rate constant within a range of 15/20 BPM. Some people in his life might have wondered if he was trying to reduce the number of people he killed. He simply would not respond to them. However, if he did, it would be something to the effect of “Don’t be foolish, what do their lives matter to me?”
His motive was merely a desire to feel his own adrenaline surge in tandem with that of his victims. Feeling his own virtually empty veins fill with blood. Like an unexpected hurricane, the blood would rush through him. A Complete system revival. It was his payoff for maintaining such regimentation in his daily life.
As he awoke from his deep sleep, that old sensation began to stir in him. He expected to feel revitalized, but he didn’t. Instead, there was a searing agony. He felt the liquid pulsing through his veins like a knife. Every time his consciousness returned, the pain intensified to an intolerable level. And both his eyes and his mouth hurt from trying to open.
He wasn’t going to panic, even though there was a lot that could have gone wrong. He had not been murdered by the black blood. Or maybe he had? He never put stock into an afterlife. But as he never truly died before, he couldn’t be certain there wasn’t one.
He’d only ever seen black blood once before. His people must have put him into a permo-sleep. But for how long? Had he woken up to soon? That was the question now. He had no idea how long it would have taken his body to recuperate completely from the Necrobeast attack.
He’d gone to sleep in the catacombs, a sanctuary for weakened or tired Kaw-Sekhmu, who needed more than a few hours of rest to recover. His kind typically needed only half the sleep required by a human, but there were times when a Kaw-Sekhmu would require much, much more.
When one grew bored with life itself and wanted to sleep through to another era--or, as in his case, when one was so badly hurt that the only thing that could save them was to rest until the body recuperated. They could spend decades or centuries resting in one of the glass coffins that filled the walls of their family mausoleum.
Only a select few Kaw-Sekhmu knew the true location of the catacombs. And no other creature was permitted anywhere near. He couldn’t explain it, but he somehow knew that wasn’t where he was now and that something terrible must have happened.
He could hear two faint voices. But he couldn’t place them and they sounded human.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow!” A soft woman’s voice came from across the room, calling out to someone as she drew nearer. She felt human, the heaviness of her steps, the way she breathed.
His kind still could breathe, but it was much quieter, and they mostly only did so when it was necessary, and in most cases. But on the occasions when they had to speak or eat, breathing was necessary.
As he got more feeling in his body, he became aware he wasn’t wearing any clothes. A sure sign that things were truly dire. A thin, cheap blanket draped over his entire body. That was when he noticed the sharp pain in his neck. Pumping something other than blood into his body. A strong chemical smell insulted his nostrils.
He could hear the woman sigh as she lifted the blanket from around his ankles. “It clotted again. Why does this keep happening?” As she said this, he felt a prick in his ankle. Blood poured out, then dripped, then. “Damn it. I’m going to be here all night because of you. What is going on with you?” She pricked his ankle one more time, and once more, the same thing happened.
Then, as if in a flash of insight, something clicked. He could feel her panic before she did or said anything. She cursed to herself as she yanked whatever it was from his neck. Racing across the room, then returning to his side. As she removed the sheets, he felt something cool against his chest as she sighed. Her anxiety had eased. “Don’t be a moron. Why should he?” He felt her weight on his chest. “What’s the matter with your blood?” She inquired before severing his collar and inserting the tube back into his neck.
Still unable to move. To tell her he indeed had not been “dead” but merely sleeping when he heard a small click. Before he could question it, music played. This was the first clue that things had changed in the world. Things lingered. Clothes, music, and culture. It only became apparent when there were enormous gaps. This music eluded him. He could tell there was only one person in the room with him. And yet, multiple voices and instruments echoed through the room. Played in a way he had never heard before.
Ultimately, he would have to explore to find out. He gave his full concentration to a trick at which he excelled. His eyes became dark for one instant. Within seconds, he was experiencing the room via her perspective. A room of metal. Try as he might, he couldn’t see where the music was coming from. And she was the only one in the room.
There were two tables next to him. White blankets covering the person under them as well. He wondered if the people under them were as dead as he was. That is to say, not at all. As she moved his arm, he felt a sharp pain rush through his body. She did this for a few minutes until she was called out of the room by another unusual sound.
Milo could eventually move his fingers, allowing him to reach his eyelids. Slowly removing a material that was holding his lids closed and then removing the sharp discs beneath. Then he advanced to his lips, where he discovered a thin yet strong thread holding his jaw in place.
As he sat up, his stomach lurched and he saw the frightened look on the woman’s face. It wasn’t her that made him feel ill, but the clothes she wore. A plastic visor over her head, and paper clothes that couldn’t have protected her from any elements. What was the weather like in this time period or region? He truly hoped this was not meant to be the fashion of the time.
He took pride in being able to blend in with the high society of any place he had gone. But he couldn’t ever wear that. He’d rather go underground for another 100 years than be caught wearing something so hideous.
But his thoughts were quickly brought back to the present, to a slack-jawed woman. “But, but... how?” Her eyes grew wide with a shaking hand pointing his way. “I checked, I...” The confusion melted away, replaced with fear as she scrambled to pick up the metal box she dropped. “I’ll call.” Her fingers hovered over the screen. “Who do I call when? I thought you were dead.” Her voice was small and shaky.
“No need to get anyone else.” He said in a smooth voice. He had pulled himself up, his legs dangling from the table, the blanket draped around his lap. “It appears I’m naked. You don’t happen to know where my clothes went off to, my dear?”
Her finger slowly pointed to a bag that held his clothes. As she quickly ramble about how they would normally just cut the clothes off. But they had been far too nice. This caused quite a stir among everyone at the morgue. The clothes would suggest he had money, but why was he found in a ditch with no ID? Homeless, actor, eccentric billionaire? No one could quite put their finger on it. She slowly explained.
“Do you mind?” Milo interrupted her ramblings, nodding to the pile of clothes. Hoping to get the girl to stop talking. “I’m having a hard time moving. Would you be a dear and aid me? It’s the least you could do, after attempting to embalm me.”
Moments later, she was fixing the last button on his jacket, mumbling that this couldn’t be happening the whole time. When he placed a hand on her cheek. “Look at me. You have nothing to fear.” As she did, her body became weak. All her worries seemed to melt away. And the events of that night were no longer a mystery.
“I didn’t think vampires were real.” Answering a question that was never asked.
“What makes you think that’s what I am?” Milo asked. Normally, he would hate being called something as low as a vampire. He was something far superior. Any self-respecting Kaw-Sekhmu would never allow someone to mistake them for the loathsome Netopuri, the monsters that most refer to as vampires.
But with all that was going on, he let himself find amusement in this. “Vampire, you say? No, not a vampire. I can walk in the sun, I can be seen in silver, and I have a heartbeat.”
“Your accent?” She said in a daze. “It’s so strange. European, old English?”
As he spoke, he reached for her hand, placing it on his chest. Her hand was warm against his cold skin. The small twitches in her hand, her body trying to tell her to run away, were only known to Milo. At first, there was no heartbeat. Then there it was. Budump. A few more seconds passed before a second budump.
“This is just as unpleasant for me as it is for you. I would much prefer it to be beating faster than this.” Milo’s words were slow and soothing. Giving the girl more reasons to relax.
“Is there a way you can do that? Make your heart beat faster, that is?” She asked, forgetting her fear. More intrigued by whatever was going on than by what he might mean.
“It’s very simple.” She didn’t notice the wicked grin that grew on his face. “And you can help me.” She looked up at him, about to ask what she could do, when she noticed his teeth. His canines were much larger. Divided into two, serrated at the edges. All at once, she knew how he would restore his heartbeat.
At that same moment, a dread that she had never felt before rushed through her as she tried to pull away. His smile was unchanged by her attempt to get away. Delighting in her struggle. A moment later, his teeth were in her neck.
He took all he could and then some. He let her fall, dry meat collapsing in a heap that didn’t even warrant a glance from him. As he stepped over her, he gently looked under the blankets of the others in the room. But neither was he. He didn’t have time to worry about anyone else that it could have been. Humans were, on the whole, not a threat. But he had no desire to stay there.
Reaching for his top hat, he glided out of the room without a second glance. He stopped only once to clench his stomach as an unknown pain quickly went through him.
