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Chapter 31: TRANSITION

His death was a sacrifice, but reemerged an Immortal, and what a gift. His death was a blood sacrifice to the darkness that covered me and colored me, a part of myself that supersedes anything I do or say, yet remains the part of me, another part of me, opposite itself (very tricky my blood was, and my soul remains uncluttered with awareness and understanding) to let go the keys of my inner kingdom, release the hinges on doors that were sealed in my brain for centuries, and all I was before I became a vampire, and the knowledge that came with it after I was transitioned, after the breaking of my bones and the burning of everything inside that was mammalian.

And now, again, I have another victim in my granite arms, pulling him to me, draining him of blood.

Ђis time I wouldn’t slip up, so I broke his neck, then tasted the blood. In my head his life flashed before my eyes. Like a motion picture without an audience, but a room filled with critics, and that’s an audience all its own, wasn’t it?

He’s dead, no doubt and I was pleased. I left his heart intact and his brain. I drank clumsily, it’s all in my dress, but no worries.

One snap of my fingers, and its brand new again, without a flaw or a stain.

I run my open palm over the man’s eyes, the one whose name begins with a B and ends with an X.

§uch a shame I had to eradicate him, assassinate him before he became too powerful, before he saw too much of the supernatural world from his office.

I kiss his fleshy lips, dark shadows gathering around his body and lifting it to the moonlight, right before my eyes.

Ђe darkness of the silvery purple clouds opened up to receive him, this man, died remaining in mortal form, rising, a beast with three heads swooping from the swirling clouds and swallowing his body whole, and leaning into my face, breathing fire on me. I exhaled, and a realm of protection shielded me. Ђe flames reflected into rain drops, and fell into the curls of my hair.

“Ye art becoming too powerful, Alicia. And ye must tone it down. We haven’t interfered with how ye run thy realm, and that’s all it is, a realm. Vampires aren’t the only supernatural beings in existence; surely ye must know this as a child knows the womb it came from.”

“Truly, thy words fall on deaf ears. I am the Queen Mother.”

“A body ye robbed, body thief!”

“No, I’m not a body thief. I am Alicia Chay, do ye not remember that? Do ye not know that?”

“§hould I?”

“Art thy tonsils clits of the esophagus?”

“I beg thy pardon!”

“I’ll say it for ye in ways ye can understand. Do ye always talk first, and think second? Art ye one of Ђe Ancients?”

He took a minute to answer; the obvious, evident anger in his eyes didn’t rattle me in the slightest.

After pondering his response, thinking before talking, ah! §o he does sometimes think before he says anything.

Clearing his throat, he said, “I wonder, and why would I tell ye that? Ye art breaking all the rules of engagements, and still break them even now! Ye art supposed to bow before me when in thy presence.”

“Bow?” I asked, feeling like I was being toyed with and I haven’t been a child in centuries, despite still being a child of the darkness, even at my old age, an age my skin tightly wounds my bones, and not a gray hair, not a wrinkle in sight.

“Yes, bow!” Ђe Ancient, or whatever it was, said with dictation.

Ђe portal above it continued to twist and turn inside and outside of each other, parallel to itself, and then horizontally, and perpendicular to itself, star dust trickling down to its hair at different intervals, fueling a glowing medallion that was over its heart, and over its groin, and that’s when I noticed the chastity belt.

Why hadn’t I known that before?

“I occupy a source of power, an experience, the chance to run things under my watchful eye to ensure balance in the Universe.”

“Ђe Universe is so much bigger than ye,” the three headed dragon said in unison. The dragons’ name was Angel, and they looked like demons with Alzheimer’s disease, and dyslexia. Three heads rolled in ripple effect into One, the scales of its body morphing into the most polished, beautiful granite hardened skin I’ve ever seen. It was truly magnificent, if ye asked me.

His face was now of blackened alabaster, and was as smooth as my buttocks, and I had an amazing one!

Without further ado, he took my face into his hands, his skilled hands warm against my flesh.

I knew it was of marble, alabaster and stone. In order to patriotically carry the torch of Hell in thy heart ye were required to have hardened walls protecting that fire, so nothing extinguished it.

And I felt it reeling into me, as if I was a naïve little fish stuck on a hook, no matter the bait used to lure me, with an intensity I don’t think we ever experienced but I was most certainly experiencing now, and I was almost honored to share this pleasure with ye.

§o why do I still feel so far away. §o close ye can taste it, like blood, Life, forbidden by the One from consumption.

But I played by my own set of rules and I hated dictation, unless I gave it.

I look at the fresh document in my hand, the one I had my dead prey sign, legally and legibly, I might add.

But now wasn’t the time to get into that. I had to set the tone for my tale, my account of supernatural decadence and spicy, lucrative power. Ђe story transcends all rational thought. I don’t think you’re fully aware of the blood and gore that lines the upcoming pages, or fully understand the mastermind that created it all.

Granted, not everyone will read this story, and everyone may or may not enjoy it. I’m well aware that many people didn’t believe in vampires. With that said, millions of people didn’t believe in Buddha, Allah, Jesus or Greek gods, even though I believe in Greek gods. I’ve spoken to a few over the past few centuries, with Aphrodite and Zeus being two of the most fascinating gods I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Ђe one that rules over the realm of hell I detested the most, because he once challenged my power.

And to his dismay…he was slain, only to be brought back alive by the very Greek higher ups that governed him. And he was stronger than he was before. Fighting him the second time wasn’t worth it.

Ђe things I regret were things I told myself I would never regret, and wound up doing that in the end, regretting things.

Ђis wasn’t an attempt to Africanize a vampire tale, because I was made up of a lot of earthly elements, my eyes sculpted from topaz and happens to be the color of blood when in danger, the color of wild grass when in flight, the color of death when anything I am attached to is compromised, or the color of dirt when I kill anyone of my fledgling.

Who gives a damn about racism?

It’s here, it hasn’t left, it just took on another shape when Mr. Lincoln emancipated it, but left loop holes in the 13th amendment for it to manifest inside institutions and penal systems worldwide.

Ђe Prison §lave Trade is a booming business, a cash cow of a very well-devised plan, a hidden agenda amongst those in power to continue the same ideal and practices of 500 years ago.

I saw that war; I was there! I witnessed it! I could hear the gun shots from skinny-looking, but powerful rifles, the gun smoke I could smell, the turf beneath my bare feet I can still feel, the color of blood draping trees, grass and soil, bodies lay lifeless along a path of lies and cover-ups. §trange fruit I think of, and thought of. §trange fruit. The song Billie Holiday sung so soulfully played in my mind.

I remember the Feast! I ate so many hearts and brains I lay about more dead bodies, having had enough. My I.Q. has reached unknown levels…I could hardly inhale, breathing in short gasps as my thirst called out to feast, to eat more, my eyes bigger than my fangs and my stomach. The three headed dragon took one final look at me and flew into the dark of night, abruptly and without warning. Leaving me with unanswered questions I guess I had to answer myself, and I didn’t know where to start.

I close my eyes flying 20,000 feet above Rome, slowly, like a bird soaring, my body twirling like ballerinas, flying through blackened but purplish gray clouds, basking in the moon light, the glow reenergizing my batteries, if ye will, even though I was a remote control and my powers weren’t controlled by one either.

I dipped as fast as I could go, a force field of gravity covering me, working through me and against me as I plummet, the Indian Ocean suddenly in view. How had I gotten here so fast! I thought I was flying over Rome!

I hit the top of the waters with a loud booming noise, thirty foot tidal waves, and 6 of them, knocked into 6 different directions. Lightning struck my eyes, even from one hundred feet deep, turning the ocean into an electrical plant of destruction. §creaming, huge bubbles rose from my sensual lips and I kicked from the ocean floor and used the power of my calve muscles to catapult me, like I was inside a human cannon and I was spat from the salty waters, as if a whale rejected his poisonous food, as if the Indian Ocean suddenly had a hiccup…

And I did a full spin 66 feet above it, like a gymnast, tucking my knees to my chest like I’ve had the best coaches…and landed on top of rippling waters, sending sonic booms in polarized form in the direction of the life-threatening waves, a caricature of those dangerous waves, turning them into instant ash and dust.

And there I was, looking down at the multi-colored dust, now dissolving into the waters…

I sit down, the water never soaking into my silk dress and thigh high leather boots with King Cobra Teeth as heels, resin oozing from my closed pores and expensive perfume fumigating the air around me by 33 feet; and my hair, hanging down to my buttocks, and branching off into 4 directions by 33 feet, bobbing and weaving on the waters like floats with humans clinging to them for dear life.

I am neither black nor white. When I look in a mirror I didn’t see or think about or fantasize about color. I am living proof of the color of death and nothingness once I squeeze the life out of my pursuers. I am an Σxperience of Σpic Proportions, a Movement of Various Ђings, the entire Periodic Chart of Σlements. Was my power assorted by atomic number? Was my chemical periodicity complete and accurate? Ђere was no one single structure for the chart, or for me, all that is Σvil and Cunning. My mood, some days, rivaled Lanthanoids





And on other days, when things didn’t seem to go the way I would want them they were Actinoids:





One of the members of my Council, who I will leave nameless right now, because he’s irrelevant to My Forethoughts, said I was the polarization of Σinstein’s Ђeory and Benjamin Franklin’s Inventions and discoveries, and his Join or Die Posters, from decades before, with states all a part of the §erpent…

I was Σ=MC squared intertwined into itself and then turned inside out: yes!

Ђat’s Me, Alicia Chay!

Ђe Alicia Chay!

Legend! Tyrant!

I am renowned for being a tyrant, more so than being a Legend, again, two separate entities within themselves.

Am I loved or hated because I am legend, or because I am tyrant? I have become; I was twisted. Throw me in a blender with an enemy’s genitals then pour me, us, entangled, in a flute glass as I toast the sun set with vengeance and fear and trembling, because I never know what horrors tomorrow was going to bring, or what vagabond was going to challenge my reign and rule. I’m not worried about what mortals have to say about my accounts, and reviews art given by biased literary rejects that never had a thing published outside of newspaper and magazine articles.

Σither way I am a vampire…

Ђe story is presented in blood raw fashion, the only thing I won’t be doing is cursing throughout it.

I’m too powerful and stunning for such language.

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