Descent Into Madness (8 page)

              "I was once a woman of many things, but you will find me now much changed. And I pray that you tell me what is going on before I hurl you from my premises," I demanded. "How old is she, Aksel?"

              "Fifteen," he stated flatly, gingerly shifting to the left corner of the couch. 

              "Fifteen! Aksel, how could you make one so young?" I relaxed in the chair and listened for her footsteps on the cobblestone. "What insanity possessed you to do such a careless thing?"

              "I had no choice," he began. "She was going to die if I did not intervene."

              "Then you should have let her die... or assisted, killed her; given her a merciful end clouded in a painless fantasy. But, this life, it is no place for one so young!"

              "It is complicated, Bree," he groaned. "I was walking along the road that leads into Oslo from the north. You must remember that road – we used to hunt there – it was there that I found her. She had been abandoned and was lying alongside the road, bleeding, curled up into a tight ball like a wounded kitten. Her pain was agonizing."

              "You should have ended it for her, given her some peace. You are weak."

              "Your words are monstrous,” he howled. “I tried to, Bree! I meant to! But, when I reached down and glanced into her face," his voice softened as he spoke, his eyes glistening with remembrance, "She resembled someone I once knew. When the light caught her face and she opened her eyes, I
remembered
those eyes. I could not place them, or her. I took pity on her and took her with me. I don’t know why, I just did. I know I shouldn’t have, but I could not leave her to die, nor could I kill her. I entrusted my housekeeper with her daily care and oversaw to her every need at night until she was nursed back to health."

              He sighed heavily, continuing, "It took over a week, but eventually rosy life bled into her cheeks. Her eyes glistened. Then one evening she demanded to speak with me. She had been throwing things at the housekeeper and refusing to eat." His voice trailed off.

              "Then what happened? What did the young Evelyn wish to know?" My question brought him back to the present, back from the dream world his mind wandered in; he rose, slowly pacing the room. 

              "My nightmares came true, that is what happened." Aksel stopped in front of the fireplace and leaned against the proud mantle, staring into the empty hearth as if a wild fire consumed the darkened space.

              "She knew who I was – even what I was."

              "How could she have known that?"

              He moved to the window and resumed scratching at the grime, his fingernails screeching at the glass. I ignored the noise. The clear glass beneath glimmered as each spec of dirt trickled to the floor.

              "I killed her mother," he finally answered.

              "When was this exactly? You found the girl near the roadside, half-dead.”

              "It was the night before," he said, looking directly into my eyes. "I was hunting... nowhere near the city. I was hunting on
that
road." His voice softened and he returned to the couch. The velvet crinkled as he sat, even beneath the cotton dust covering.

              "I was walking through the woods, as I do on most nights, and in the distance I heard a carriage of drunken men singing on their way toward the city," he paused.

              "It is my fashion to haunt this particular pathway. There is even a legend about me. On that night, I caught a scent lofting from this carriage. It was not the smell of rum or the atrocious odor of tobacco originating from the two putrid drivers. No. It was the smell of women’s perfume, the sweet aroma of sugarplums and crushed violets. The scent reminded me of you," he looked up, a smile gracing his worried face. When I did not respond to his flattery, he continued.

              "I flew into a nearby tree, and within a matter of moments I was upon their group. The two men were effortless. But, as I was finishing with the second one, a gorgeous woman emerged from the carriage. She began cursing me, holding up a crucifix. I grabbed hold of her, as you had done to me, and I threw her. She slumped to the ground and died. I heard a large grouping coming up the path and I fled to my rest," he lowered his head and sighed.               "When I returned the next evening I found Evelyn."              

              "Was there any sign of the carriage?" I asked. “Of the mother…”

              "No," he replied. "They had taken it; taken it after finding Evelyn inside and raping her. Then they left her, concealed in some brush near the road for the vultures to feast on."

              "Was there any sign of the other travelers?”

              "No, her mother and the two drivers' bodies were nowhere to be found," he replied. "They just left Evelyn, a defenseless child, Bree, for dead."

              "Humanity can be a cruel and destructive people, Aksel. They are often senseless and quick in their actions.”

              "Then you no longer consider yourself human?" he asked as he moved back to the fireplace and blinked the dead embers to life. The hearth became a growing belly of orange heat with tongues of red, licking against the burn-stained brick hearth. A warming glow permeated the room, reached into every corner, enveloped every object, every air molecule, and suspended itself as if it were holding me in a loving embrace.

              "No, I have not for centuries,” I replied, the syllables catching the crackling embers and fading as they fluttered into the air. “But, ask yourself, are you any less cruel or destructive, any less of a senseless monster?”                Aksel remained at the mantel, his left arm perched on the polished wood, staring into the raging flames. “No, I am not. We
are
no longer the people we once were. We can be cruel, selfish beings; perhaps we have always been that way."

              "No, it comes with the blood and with time – the passing of time, and experience. But, that is inevitable,” I replied.

              “We don’t intend to be monsters, though. It’s in our nature to be heartless and solitary.”

              “For some,” I noted.

              “Will we ever mend the rift between us?” he asked. “Or, are we destined to,” the words trailed, his chin quivering.

              “Aksel, why did you turn Evelyn?”  

              “She was frightened and fought me, but soon she softened and became like a daughter. Then sickness swelled in her belly, and she burned with an intense fever. She slept, would not take food, and the doctor said she hung precariously to life. Then one evening she howled in pain and bled, and clutched her belly.” Tears stung his eyes.               “She was pregnant, Bree.” 

              "Where is the child now?"

              “Dead,” he said, his eyes closed, tears at the creases. “Born still and malformed. The midwife removed the babe before Evelyn could look upon it.”

              He continued, “The bleeding wouldn’t stop and she was dying. The life drained from her and I could not let her go, Bree." He sat down on the couch and leaned back, sinking into the weight of the heavy cushions. "It was her choice. She had begged me to save her, Bree. She begged me with her dying breath, and she knew the monster I was. She knew the monster she would become; she knew this curse, and she wanted it! Out of selfishness, because I was not strong enough to live knowing I had allowed her to die, I did this to her. I created another us.”

              "We all have our demons, Aksel, and we must live with them. She is yours."

              "I cannot live with her any longer, and she cannot care for herself," he said, his words rushed. 

              "You should have thought about that before you created her, Aksel. She is your fledgling and your responsibility."

              "She is capable, but society only sees a fifteen year-old child, Bree. She has become too masculine, too influenced by me. She needs a feminine influence." He smiled shyly at me, reaching for my hand, but I refused the offer of companionship.

              "I will not care for your offspring, Aksel."

              "She needs a mother, Bree. She needs to learn womanly ways, to hunt as a woman hunts. Please, I beg of you, take her," he pled.

              "Aksel, I am nobody’s mother and I do not wish to become one now," I answered firmly. "I could tell from her thoughts that she misses her mother; cries for the woman who smelled of sugarplums and crushed violet, but I cannot replace this person. No one ever will."

              "Then what am I to do, Bree?" His hands fidgeted in his pockets, his voice cracking. "Of all the times I have needed you, this is the most grave of times, and you deny me. Bury our past, please! This is not about us, but her. She is innocent, Bree. Innocent! Do not let her pay the price for our sins."

              "What are you not telling me, Aksel?" I demanded.

              "I can tell you what he will not," a voice whispered from behind the library door as it opened. Aksel stood, moving to the fireplace, warming his shaky hands over the orange aura.

              "It was my idea to come here and to seek refuge with you. Let me apologize for this, and please, do not harbor any ill will toward Aksel. He is merely playing along with my farce."

              "Why are you seeking refuge?" I asked, curious now.              

              “One night I was hunting when I came upon a small camp of miscreants. There were only three there and I thought I could take them alone. The first man was simple. He had been sitting near a fire and I had snuck up behind him. It was an effortless kill. Then I created a noise diversion to lure the others out of the tent.,” she said.

              She continued, “When they emerged, we all recognized each other. In panicked and flew off. Eventually, we took care of them together, but they had reached Oslo and spread word first that I had slaughtered their companion. I was cursed as a demon in Oslo, and we realized the problem was unfixable."

              "And so you have come here seeking asylum?"

              "It is the only way," Aksel interjected. “I must keep her safe.”

              "And what would you do if I granted Evelyn this; if I take her in and care for her?"

              "I will return to Norway, of course," he replied. "They have renderings of Evelyn's face circulating around the country, but they do not suspect me. I can go to a different city and start over."

              "That is what I was expecting you to say," I said as I walked over to the fireplace, facing him. "Aksel, I cannot do this for you. I will not take her with me, nor will I stay here with her." 

              "How can you refuse her?" he asked, his words still shook with fear. He collapsed onto the couch, a plume of dust escaping the fabric as his body met the cushion. "Can you seriously not grant me this one wish, Bree?"

              "You are still blind, Aksel, blind and unwilling to see the truth. She is fleeing Norway for the same reasons I fled, and yet you do not flee with her. Why do you hang onto that place? It is just a place! Yet, you cling to it as if it were the only thing in this world providing sustenance! You forsake those who you love,” I glanced at Evelyn, “and loved you, for a people that would burn you without a second thought.”

              “Relinquish humanity before it destroys you. Let go of your past and move on before it ruins your future." He remained motionless as I spoke, my words assaulting the human in him.

              "What is to become of me?" Evelyn asked, her voice a hot knife slicing through our conversation.

              The gravity of her situation made me pause – made me flash a peak at her naïve, haunted eyes.  

              "You can stay here, Evelyn.”

              "I could not!" Her voice quaking. She clenched her fists and stammered into the room. "I cannot live on my own - look at me!"

              Tears trickled down her cheeks. Her petite hands brushed eagerly to clear them away; but, unable to fight them, she turned her back to us in shame. Aksel walked to the window and hid his face. 

              "You will not be alone," I assured her.

              I walked to Aksel and placed my hand on his shoulder, gripping it. When he faced me, there was solitary tear gliding toward the cusp of his upper lip. He stopped it with the swipe of a knuckle.   

              "Aksel will stay here until you find a suitable mate, Evelyn,” I called out. “You owe her that much,” I whispered to him.

              "We will start right away, I promise," she assured him through her veil of tears. "Just, please, do not leave me."

              Evelyn was the object of innocence and purity, just as I had been when first turned. Time and blood: these would corrupt her. That is our kind’s natural cycle. For, from the moment we are first bitten, we enter an eternal battle, a war with no end. Century upon century this war rages, battling our sanity, until we hunger for innocence… for our wasted humanity. The cycle of time, the ceaseless battle of ages, hardens our hearts. It strips from our minds, from our realities, all that are innocent and pure. Evelyn’s heart and mind would one day harden. Not out of fear or hatred, but out of necessity and self-preservation.