It was my time to die. Even so, I could not just accept it and go into that oblivious unknown. No, I, being a believer in the powers that can and do thwart nature, I chose to change that verdict. But, as I learned the hard way, magick is natural and therefore has its own natural laws that apply to it. It does not subvert nature it just changes aspects of it. So, I went in search of the magick that would spare my mortal life and found it. Even as I made my way there I could feel the horrid pain of my condition and knew that my death would be a very painful one, liver cancer is that way. I just did not have the courage to face it. I did not want to give up the life I so dearly loved nor part with my many loved ones.

The first thing she said, this magick user, was you must truly die to your present life before I can bring you back. Once back there will be rules, new rules to your new existence. She asked me if I could accept this. Of course, I thought I could and told her as much. It was then that she handed me something steaming with fog and bid me to drink.

It tasted foul but I managed to get it all down and keep it there. The room began to fall away immediately, a black swirling miasma of all the images that had filled it. I heard her voice through it all as she said, "It begins." And then she began laughing. Fear assaulted me then and I thought I had made a terrible mistake and knew beyond doubt that it was already too late. Then, even thought was gone as all went black around me. I woke to horrid screaming, unnerved to find it was my own, and to the room just the the same as it had been. I swallowed my fear to look around me and see what, if anything, had changed.

The chair beside the cot where I lay was empty. She must be outside, I thought. The door was open to the night and there was lantern light beyond the door. Then a shadow crossed the band of light. It was not the woman I expected, but a male voice that said, "You thought to escape me?" said the hooded figure. "Now, you have given me your soul. Alas, some people are loath to part with life and so they end up mine." He sighed heavily as if that were a great burden. He sat then in the chair beside me and looked around the room, well, his hood moved as if he could see. I still could not see beneath it and yet, wasn't so sure I wanted to.

"What do you see, hear and smell?" he asked.

"I can smell the tea in the hearth and see all that I saw before. But, that is not what she had me drink before, this smells more like herb tea." In fact, it smelled so wonderful, my mouth began to water. I tried to stand but he gestured to me to stay put and went to get the kettle. As I watched him reach for it, I saw his hands were gloved past the wrist. His hood stayed long over his face as he poured one cup of the tea for me. "Drink" was all he said.

I drank the tea and realized at once that it didn't taste quite as good as it had smelled a moment ago. When it hit my stomach a great cramping took me and I vomited, violently. A comforting hand on my shoulder told me he had expected this and was just waiting for my dry heaves to stop.

"I am sorry, there was no better way to show you," he said, a sadness in his voice that frightened me. "It surprises you that I care? Well, that is as I expected as well. I do care for my people." He sighed again and added, "though I must also tell you, as I have the others, that I have yet to understand why and how you become my charge. But, that is for the gods to know and they are jealous of their knowledge and share it sparingly."

As he said it again, it occurred to me what he must mean, alarm bells going off in the back of my mind as I asked, "What exactly do you mean, yours?"

"Ah, the new rules. Yes, it is time I suppose. First, before I begin, I suppose you should know who I am." And the hood was lowered and I saw the face of Death, just as I suspected, the skull that regarded me had eyes though of a sort, there was a faint blue gleam of light. More, I was surprised at my own reaction, I felt no fear of him. No, it was more than that; I felt an overwhelming sadness in him and kindness.

"I am not the evil thing that you thought before you changed. I am what you see but I am also only a symbol of the transformation of the soul at the end of one life before the other may begin. I am simply the last thing the living may see on their way through to where the gods dwell. Well, that is if the person allows the natural course of events, you, have not. Thus, the new rules apply to you.

"There is no substance that you can eat or drink to nourish you as it did in your past life. All that you take into yourself now must have life of its own or it will make you feel the way that the tea just did. In other words, you have heard of Vampires?" My eyes grew wide then, began to water. "Yes, they do exist. Why? As I said the gods do not tell us for their own reasons. All I can do is tell you that it is my charge to obey the gods and watch over you all. So, after many centuries I have tried to understand all I can of this new form of life to make it as easy for you as I can."

Vampire, the implications were enormous! But, to drink blood? But no, he had not said that, exactly, had he? So, I asked, "What are the new rules then?"

"Good, since you seem ready, we may begin with the fact that you can die to this life as well as the other though it is more difficult. Let us dispel the myths first. Your soul is not damned and you are not going to burn in hell. You still could if you misuse your new life, but I don't feel evil in you, so the point is moot in your case. You can withstand the sun but, not for very long, exposure will burn you, ever so slowly. So, let us say that someone who knew something of my people began the myth. Power over the beasts of the world? That one is my personal favorite, but no, you do not have power over them any more than you did before, but, let's just say they understand you as a fellow predator and you may communicate to them and they to you. You will see soon enough. Can you become a beast; this is another fact that is simply misunderstood by the living. You can indeed change shape, but even the adept among the living can do this. It is not so much your shape that becomes a beast but that your form becomes an essence of life that may enter a willing beast. Like the green smoke you've no doubt heard tell of. But, you yourself have no real corporeal body."

He stopped then, as if to give me time to examine the body I believed I still had. I pinched it, it hurt but not as much as it should have. Kind of like when the hands go to sleep for lack of blood in them, there was that kind of numbness. I looked up then at those twinkling eyes.

"Your body is different now. It is not the same as the flesh you wore in life. And because it is not living flesh, it must be fed often or that numbness you feel will spread as the tissues die in truth. This body you wear is borrowed life. That is the best way I can think to explain it. It is even now, dying as we speak, but there is time yet. Garlic? Not a serious thing to concern you, though it is much like an allergic reaction to substance in life. In some cases, the reaction is simply an itch, in others as bad as a rash that will not heal. It is just something you may wish to avoid, unless you are adventurous. The symbols of Christianity, those will not effect you either. However, we respect the fear we see in people who use them and their faith should be respected at the least. So we, myself, and those who have come before you, hope that each new un-life will leave those people their beliefs as much as possible. But I do not expect you to put yourself at risk to do this. There are others who blatantly go against my wishes in this but that is not your concern. It is, however, a mark of the individual and that the gods keep track of in the long run. Again, as I said, you have not escaped hell yet, nor have they. Any evil you do will weigh against you when I come to call at the gods' bequest when the time for you in this life is ended. But, I hope that however long that may be that you learn something that can help your soul and its standing in the realms beyond. Your only real sin against the Will of the gods I know of, thus far, is your greed for life and that is not so grievous as some. So, you need not fear religious talismans as they are only symbols of the faith people hold for their gods, they have no power of their own. Your ability to move as a predator is as real as the silence of a cat approaching its prey. That, too, is a thing that is related to the flesh you now wear. The power to hypnotize a victim? Well, that too is real, but it takes time to learn this skill. It is easier to accomplish if the victim already suspects your true nature. Must you sleep in a coffin upon the earth of your homeland? No, indeed, you may sleep anywhere out of reach by the living. This I tell you now because if they find you, you will appear to be dead and they will treat you as a dead body, nothing more. As you can guess, this can become most embarrassing for those involved. Do people become Vampires when they die of the bite? No, they die a human death, unless you allow them to feast on your blood. In that case some may become like you, though it is very rare, it can happen. As for the hunting, well, you may need someone to walk the path with you until you are more accustomed to this new life, or un-life, as I choose to call it. Now, you will need something to hold you over, until you are strong enough to hunt. Your body is still changing and therefore you may drink a preparation of the life you must now use to nourish yourself."

He got up and went to a small cupboard in the wall that steamed with cold when opened and I knew it was an icebox like my parents has told me came before the modern refrigerator. The cup he bore was large but held with both hands, as he handed it to me carefully. I sniffed at it and smelled nothing, as if at first it had no scent, then as the cold in it began to dissipate, the smell became one of salt and copper and I knew it was blood. I nearly began retching again, but then something else took me over and I found myself drinking it all. It tasted wonderful, like food to a starving man. I knew then that, as I felt the hunger and the satisfaction that followed as I consumed the blood in that cup, I would never be the same again. That realization brought an unexplainable sadness with it, just as I felt that gloved hand take the cup from me as I crumpled and fell heavily into a dreamless sleep.

When next I woke, it was daylight, the window was covered with a heavy drape and only the cracks around the edges of the door and window frame showed me the truth. This time, in the chair beside my cot, a youth sat regarding me with a sad smile. My first thought, he isn't old enough to be so sad. I was wrong, of course; he was just like me.

"Hello" he said, "you're alright then?" he asked. "I think I am, well," I laughed, "as well as I can be for someone who's dead."

"Aye, makes it hard to tell." He stood and bowed, "I am Rodney and you are new here, Chris, right?

"Yes, Chris. Are you my guide then? Someone so young?"

"I am older than I appear to be." And if that was possible, he looked even sadder than he had before I had made him smile. "So, what would you like to do first?"

"Shouldn't we wait until dark?" I asked. He shook his head. "It is very cloudy and will not be so bad." He said earnestly. "I think I would like to see some of my friends, ah, if that's permitted."

"Yes, it is permitted." This time his face became devoid of all emotion and I suspected then that there was much more to this young man than I had, at first guessed.

We walked a long way through the trees on the same path that had brought me here. Then as we came into the town proper, I asked if we should hail a taxi, he shrugged his indifference. We rode in silence to the townhouse where my friends Marsha and Jon rented the upstairs apartment. It all looked the same to me and I found some small comfort in that.

Marsha opened the door when she saw it was me then stopped short halfway when she saw Rodney. She had the look of fear in her eyes, as she looked at him, then an uncertain question in them when she looked at me. "It's ok, really. This is my friend, Rodney. She still looked frightened, but let us in. "If you say so. Where have you been? A lot of us were starting to worry. You haven't answered the phone in days. Have you even been at home?" She had the look of challenge about her that said, "don't lie to, don't you dare lie to me." So, I didn't lie to her, well, not exactly.

"I have been at a friend's house in the country. I needed a rest." True enough.

"You look like shit, you know. Have you thought about seeing a doctor?"

"Well, thanks a lot Marsha, I really wanted to hear that I look like shit. And, as a matter of fact I have been to a doctor and he said I… I am fine." I said and, well, maybe just one lie. But it must have been one she wanted to hear because she relaxed a little and even apologized. She kept darting glances at Rodney who sat silent as stone while she and I chatted. Finally she asked to speak with me in the kitchen and Rodney just dipped his head picked up a magazine off the coffee table to page through. The ones everyone keeps but no one ever really looks at.

When we got into the kitchen and she closed the door, she turned vicious and asked, "are you nuts, that guy is…is… is, well, creepy. I don't know any other way to say it. There is something very scary about him and I… shit." She was biting her lip and looking frightened again. "You know how I get when I sense these things. I don't mean to offend you, Chris but there's a prime example of something very bad out in my living room and right now, you don't look healthy. Anyone else, I'd say you're on drugs, but that is not something you could do. I know that." She didn't look so convinced of that right at the moment and that was when I decided to leave.

I made excuses which we all knew was just that and Rodney and I left. I was quiet a while and then asked him outright.

"Will everyone see me the way Marsha did?"

"No, some will fear you as she did me. Some will not notice but will ask you to continue in your old ways. Some will expect you to come to dinner. Some to go out into the bright sunlight for games or other things you used to enjoy." He shook his head. "It is sometimes better to make a clean break than try to think up new reasons for not doing the things you did in your first life. I think of all the things that I lost, the hardest was my friends from the first life. But, you will make new ones and they will know you as a night person. But, you may want to remember that losing any friend is hard so you may not want to get too close to the living. They don't live very long and it hurts to lose them."

We walked in silence a long while. I watched the crowd as we wandered amongst them and some openly stared at us, while others just tried to inch their way carefully out of our way. Some looked afraid; some acted as if they thought there was something odd about us, just not sure what it could be. I watched them all. Strangers, or people that I should think of as potential victims? I wanted to ask but just wasn't ready to hear the answer. We walked on for a long time when it occurred to me I was just now coming into an area I had never seen before. I realized Rodney had led me here for a reason. He noted my expression and told me it was true.

"I brought you here because it is easier for a first time hunt. It's as if the gods themselves have a part to play in which people they send to meet us. Or maybe it just seems so to me. There are many good people here and it seems sometimes, bad things just happen to good people. But if you recall, there is a saying about that too, that only the good die young." I looked up then and saw that sadness in his eyes again. I realized then that he was trying hard to prepare me for the next step in my training and I found I was terrified. To my very bones I was afraid that I would learn to do this too, all because I wanted to live! I felt the guilt hit me like a ton of bricks, to land heavy on my shoulders and stay there, getting heavier as the years of stolen life passed by from now until the weight itself would bring me down. I began to see what his sadness meant. He was feeling sad that he was going to make me like him. I wanted to tell him it was my fault, I chose this, I knew it. I wanted to tell him not to feel bad but I could not fathom what it all meant to him until much later.

He pointed then to a figure moving slowly toward us. It was an old woman. She smiled as she saw us, then turned pale and pulled her coat tighter. Rodney seemed much older all of a sudden. He moved up to her and asked if he could help her with a heavy shopping bag. She looked into his eyes and then, as if she'd reached some difficult decision, nodded. He carried that bag and held her arm like a good young man helping the elderly as I watched and followed silently. We ended up in a small apartment on the third floor. She ambled away and opened a small coin purse as if to give him a tip. He shook his head. "It is alright, I mean you no harm." Her eyes became unfocused as she just stood as he approached at her side and leaned I toward her neck. And then I saw the blood.

"Come here." He said as he held her upright. "Drink now while she is warm, hurry."

I stood mute for a moment, then moved as quickly as I could. She looked asleep yet her eyes were open. I leaned in to where I could smell the blood and the smell awoke that hunger in me once again. I tried hard to look away but Rodney made me watch as he closed her eyes for her before we left. He then surprised me with a short version of the prayer I had so often heard, "as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art with me." Then we washed the blood off us in her bathroom sink and left the apartment, locking the door behind us. As we entered the street once more, I wondered if I would ever forget the look in those eyes? I never did.

"That one taught you very little, I am sorry." He said and I knew he meant it. "She was too ready to die. It is like that sometimes when they are old."

I had hoped that they would all be that easy and somehow knew they could not all be like that. It could not be enough to explain the sadness in Rodney's eyes. The nest was a young girl on her way to somewhere in a great hurry. Night was coming on and the thought occurred it was late for someone her age to be out alone.

"This time you will get her attention." Rodney said, "be firm, as if you have something important to say to her."

"Excuse me, miss. I am new here and … and I am. I need change for the phone booth." Rodney was frowning at me; there was no phone booth nearby. He needn't have bothered, as she hadn't noticed. She began digging in her bag as I pulled out a dollar bill. I stared a while at it but just as she looked up with a handful of change, I stared into her eyes and saw fear blossom there. Rodney was quicker than I was; he grabbed her by the back of the neck before she could bolt. He waited in the shadow of an old tree for me to make the next move. So, I grabbed her firmly by the shoulder and held her still as I bit deeply into the flesh at the vein where Rodney had bitten the old woman. That was easier than I had expected. I was soon rewarded with the warm gush of life. It tasted sweeter than the finest wine of my living years and I drank, nearly forgetting to offer some to my partner.

"We must finish this," he said, pointing to the young woman at our feet. "We cannot leave her here with a bite such as this." A long low whistle came from him then and a large, motley colored dog approached from the road. "Eat, friend. We cannot be suspected and you can run faster."

"Yes, I can," was the reply.

But, this was not speech. This sound was an impression in my mind. I was so stunned that I just stood there and watched as the dog ripped at her throat and gorged himself on the near dry flesh. It was bad. The dog never even looked up again as we made our way away from there. I kept looking back, expecting the dog mind to speak again. It didn't.

"Animals are short on chit chat. They won't waste time talking like we do. It's their way. You will learn it if you want to survive. They will gladly aid us in a kill in the city. Life is harder on them here. But we must speak of what happened back there so you learn better. You need to be sure of yourself, more confident. A predator knows he is superior to the prey. You must learn to believe it or you will not live long in this, your second life."

"What can I do?" I asked. "There must be something else that I can learn to do."

"You must believe they are going to die, believe it will be painless for them then… well, think it hard at them." He said. I decided to try on Rodney. I thought as loud as I could. "Rodney, I am dangerous!" He actually looked at me then and laughed out loud.

"To yourself, yes, you are indeed. To me?" he laughed harder still. "But," I heard in my mind. "It is a start." And I smiled.

And so it went night after night I learned to talk to my prey as if they had no choice but to die and some went willingly, others fought my Will and only Rodney's help kept them from escaping and complaining to police. Rodney taught me well, more by example than anything other means. I miss him sometimes.

Other things came to light later that disturbed me, like having my friends shun me. In the beginning they tried to adjust to the difference they sensed in me. They would invite me out on a sunny day or out to dinner at their homes or in cafes. It became tiresome to make excuses but eventually the invitations came less and lass often until they disappeared all together. Then to see them out somewhere in the evenings, they would seem to sense something was 'not quite right' about me. In the end, I learned to accept it. One thing that bothered me most was something I was not truly aware that I often did as I would pass by a tree or a large fern; I would reach out and stroke the leaves of a plant, just to feel it's softness. I discovered that after the change, to do this would shrivel the plant instantly, as if my touch sucked it dry of life. Death told me that was exactly what it did. It was just another facet of the new flesh that I must learn to accept. I found that I missed it more than other things. I hunt alone these days, most of us do. We all end up alone in the end. Oh, we do have a gathering of kin and the like but it is never much comfort. We all think it is just something we have to try because of the memories of friends and family from our former lives. Some, like me are fairly young, others are very old and the tales they tell, well, they leave me in shock, Most try not to dwell on what they miss about life, but, like as not, talk will always come back to that topic. None of us are eager to tell of this existence. We all know what it is and what we do to survive. None of us want to admit we are more comfortable, feel safer, when we are alone. I find I often think of the wolves, that of all predators, they are the only ones who can exist in a pack and not feel safer alone. I envy them, often.

"The blood is the life," as some movie director quoted from Bran Stoker's book all those years ago. True enough, I know now, but that story like so many others is just another romantic fantasy. And this un-life as the boss calls it, is no fantasy. It is survival, yes. Is it life? No. But, it is not true death either. Did I get my wish? Yes, and no. The life I wished to keep was the life I knew. Life filled with friends is the life we know. Family, friends and strangers who have the potential to become friends; that is life. This is a mere illusion of life and it is lonely. Even those who know us and do not fear us can hardly be real friends. They grow old and watch us not grow old. Some envy us but few ask to join us. It is not a thing we are permitted to offer them. Though a few of us have given directions to the witch's house where some of us started, most of us have learned it is not such a great gift to wish on a friend and remain silent. There are some of us, still, that wish we had not gone there.

I, for one, cannot decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing. I am living in a shadow of all of my living memories. I am only a shadow of the person I once was and it is often too hard to think back to what I was before. When I do, I know that my face looks much like Rodney's did to me all those years ago. He was in mourning for the life I did not yet realize I had lost. He was sad for me, as I am now when I am called on to train a newly awoken. Death is with us always, if ever we need him. Ironic how the symbol of what we all feared has now become our guardian and our own personal champion. But, I find myself speaking of death and what it really means much the same as he these days. I think I understand it all much better now.

So, as a warning, or just as good advice, I must say to you now: be careful what you wish for, you just may get it. And you may find what you wished for is not all you had dreamed it would be. Magick is very real and it is all around you. It is natural and has laws to balance it in the natural world where it exists. To keep the balance, all Magick must exact a cost, a payment to the gods, if you will. Remember then, it may be you that will next have to pay it. That it may be greater than you would willingly wish to pay.

THE END

Wednesday, May 19, 1999 © Jolene Ramage