Demetrius Ch. 01

Prologue:

In the year 1273, within a remote forest outside Transylvania, a strange light appeared in the nighttime sky. No one was awake to see or hear the intermittent whirring sounds when suddenly the ground shook from an impact. A large part of the vessel embedded itself within the soft forest floor, smoldering until a hand from below and inside the craft appeared as if it were reaching out from the grave. Pulling themselves out of the wreckage the aliens scattered into the darkness of a strange new world.

Part One:

Chapter 1

♪ "Hot time, summer in the city..."

The effect of the heat showed in the commuter's faces as they made their way home. Rush-hour was always frantic, especially on Friday's. Irritability ran higher than normal as car-horns honked comically in syncopation with the sounds of a distant jackhammer. It sounded like the big city's version of the popular duet Dueling Banjos.

Demetrius was born in Romania trying to make it here in the computer industry. Most of his family and relatives were still in Europe. He felt displaced and homesick, usually on the weekends. His computer job provided a challenge different than he got from chess. He was handsome and shy, recently turning twenty-three. His difficulty with the English language was perhaps understandable; leading to frequent misunderstandings with American women. His appearance was outstanding, unique in that he had dark curly hair and very pale-blue eyes. His hair and eyes were an unusual combination, fascinating and sometimes intimidating to others. As a child he was told his eyes were a mutation and it was what he told those who often stared at them.

No one would've guessed what was to happen to him on this night. A Friday much like all the others except this one would set him on a path of self-discovery unlike any other.

His apartment was nicer than he thought he could afford. Having it all to his self made it seem like a luxury. Fortunately there was no one to object to the ever-present chess set sitting on the card-table in one of the corners. Chess, astronomy and computer magazines were strewn here and there, many unread. In addition to his achievements in chess he loved classical music; it was probably due to his father's decision to expose him to it early on in life.

His mother disappeared mysteriously after his birth. When he asked his grandmother about her she'd mumble something, taking hold of the rosary hanging from her neck, kissing it while shaking her head. Getting information about his mother from his father was no easier. His questions only seemed to provoke anger, exposing a wound too deep and not yet healed. Out of respect he chose not to pry, allowing him to have the pain he apparently felt he was entitled to.

The only thing he had to remember his mother by was her picture sitting amidst the mess on one of the end-tables. She was beautiful, there was no denying it. Her sophisticated and distinguished appearance was accented by her flawless complexion. She looked like a countess with hair as black as coal, pulled tight in a bun on the top. A black-ribbon cameo graced her neck. The far away look in her eyes made her appear as though she existed in some other world, different than the one she sat posing in.

He relied on the different restaurants and delicatessens in the neighborhood for his meals. In the evenings if he didn't have an English class to attend he'd go to the park and play chess til dark. Sometimes he'd play 20 or more people at a time, spending a few minutes at each table before making a move and moving onto the next. He saw the potential threats in his opponent's moves which always make him chuckle. Since his English left much to be desired he used the universal language of body mannerisms and behavior in communicating his thoughts to others.

One night after a nap and getting cleaned up he made his way to Nick's for one of their corned beef sandwiches. They were topped with a delicious sauce, Swiss-cheese and sauerkraut. As he waited for a refill on his coffee he noticed a smile on a strangers face. She was sitting at one of the tables along the front windows. Something was missing but it never occurred to him what it was at the time. In fact it wouldn't dawn on him for some time what was missing -- her reflection.

He wasn't sure why but he decided then on going to Sangre Maria's, a local dance club. He liked being in a crowd and seeing others dance, especially the girls. And who knew, maybe he'd get lucky.

♪ Dance to the music...

She was older, thirty-something and stylish. Since so many eyes were on her he felt conspicuous when she looked right at him, acknowledging his presence in a crowd of many. She had very black hair. It was short on one side, shoulder length on the other. The longer side looked feathered, textured and layered with white-frosted ends curling up and out. On the short side there was one large white curl resting on her cheek, held in place some way.

She wore a black satin dress. It fit tightly caressing and accentuating her curves. He doubted she wore a bra since her large nipples caught his attention, poking out at him from across the room. She moved sensuously to the music while standing at the bar, looking at him until he felt a connection. On what level, he couldn't say. Eventually she made her way out onto the dance floor. He saw her in a series of snapshots made possible by the pulsing strobe-lights, dizzying him with their effect. He closed his eyes momentarily hoping to restore his ability to focus. When he opened them again he saw her gaze, still on him.

"She's probably out of my league," he thought turning away, taking another swallow of his vodka and tonic.

Normally this would've been the end of his interest but every time he turned away he found himself turning to look at her again, as others nearby were doing. When the music ended the crowd receded, making room for her as she seductively walked towards him. Her hips moved slowly as she approached him. The back-lighting from the flashing strobes enabled him to see through her dress at times. Glimpses of fleshy thighs within her dress made her more appealing. His mouth went dry. He was afraid to reach for his drink, fearing he'd spill it on himself before taking a sip.

Now standing beside him, he smelled her unique perfume. Beneath its scent there was a surprising sexual odor of perspiration and what could best be described as being wild. Her presence and proximity was unlike anything he ever felt. She placed her left arm on the back of his stool, moving her right hand to his inner thigh, gently squeezing.

"Do you live around here," she asked in an accent similar to his.

He stuck his tongue between his lips wetting them enough to speak.

"Not too far from here," he said nervously swallowing the rest of his drink.

"Why don't we leave so we can get to know one another better? You'd like to get to know me better wouldn't you," she said confidently. There was a rush of excitement in hearing what she was suggesting.

"Sure," he said getting off the stool. She took him by the arm when quickly they were out the door and on the street.

"Which way," she asked apparently in a hurry.

♪ Strangers in the night...

Once in his apartment she moved close to him, encouraging him to explore her body as she wiggled and rubbed against him. In seeing his eyes she felt another connection, other than matching blood-types. Rather than commenting on either she laughed wickedly in getting him out of his clothes, his excitement showing within his shorts. She took hold of it squeezing it roughly before turning to run to his bedroom. He laughed in hearing her howl like a banshee with enthusiasm. He followed her down the hallway to his bedroom when she leaped onto the bed, quickly undressing in a flurry of motion.

As he stood beside the bed removing his clothes he watched her as she removed the last of her clothing, a black g-string. She opened and closed her thighs in anticipation. He was at full stand when he got on top of her. She giggled and moaned demonically guiding him inside, making the powerful and compelling connection between male and female. Once made he felt her thrusting upwards, gobbling up his manhood in her moistness until pelvis met grinding pelvis. She seemed pleased in her ability in taking it all, effortlessly. He felt her strength as she rotated her hips up and around, tightening and loosening her interior muscles spastically as though she wanted to squeeze it out of him.

It had been awhile for him. His excitement grew, feeling a raspy tongue moving on his neck like a snake. And then there was pain, sudden and sharp making him flinch. As quickly as he felt it, it was gone, replaced by a warm fuzzy sensation spreading through him. She sucked noiselessly as he smiled in release, too distracted to know she was swallowing thirstily.

He was drained, tapped of energy and strength never knowing what happened. When he closed his eyes he went limp, shivering in cold arms of hollow embrace. The last thing he remembered was her pushing him off to the side when he didn't regain consciousness until morning.

♪ "I'm sorry, so sorry. Please accept my apology..."

He awoke around mid-morning, pulling himself out of bed noting there was no sign of her. Strangely the crucifix hanging on the kitchen wall had been draped with a hand towel. After removing it he saw the picture of his mother sitting on the table along with a letter. As he began reading his hand went shakily to his neck, feeling the welts. A cold sweat appeared on his forehead and with trembling hands he read her apologia:

Dear Demetrius,

Where do I begin? You must believe me; I had no way of knowing who you were until after, when I saw my picture on your end-table. Even now I find it hard to believe, knowing I seduced and fed from you. I know this must not make sense to you, hearing me tell you I'm a vampire but it's true.

I wanted to be there for you when you were growing up. Somehow I lost control of my life, crossing a line. I found myself falling in love with him -- needing him until he became an obsession. He offered immortality along with numerous other abilities. Abilities I won't attempt to explain at this time. In return he got my hand in marriage; my life changed forevermore. I wouldn't trade what I have now for anything, except maybe to have been there for you when you were growing up.

The wounds on your neck will heal in a few days and no, I haven't turned you into a vampire. I fed from you. Maybe more than I should have...

You mustn't seek me out unless you want to become one of us. I failed you I know but maybe one day you might consider immortality a gift, one I can share with you if you consider the steps I've taken. I promise you an existence beyond mortality, an existence beyond anything you could imagine. I don't want to make it easy for you to find me but the clues in your doing so are with those you saw me dancing with. You must be cautious in dealing with others like me but if you tell them you are my son they dare not harm you!

I don't know what more to say except, I'm sorry.

Anastasia

He got to his feet unsteadily using the kitchen table for support, making his way to the bathroom. After throwing up he raised his head slowly, looking in the mirror. He looked dreadful and pale like he did when he had the flu. Turning his head to look at his neck, he saw the swollen purple puncture wounds.

"They'll heal in a few days," she wrote.

"Finally after all this time I have something from her," he thought in mock appreciation. It hardly mattered if it was a mistake. Surely there was no intention on either of their parts to engage in incest but like the bumper-stickers say: Shit Happens.