Fledgling (The Vampire Manifesto, Book Two) by Bell Rashaad

Author:Bell, Rashaad [Bell, Rashaad]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: teen, young adult, werewolf, horror, vampire, paranormal, Romance, Fantasy, manifesto, adult, rashaad, science fiction
Published: 2012-04-21T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Street dreams are made of these…

It was the dream again. The same woodland grove, the landscape littered with dead Vampires at the feet of my dreamself as she pointed the Blade of Osiris in my direction. The last time I had seen this dream version of myself, I recalled how authoritative she was, how ferocious and fearless she appeared paralleled to what I was. I had tried so hard to envision what it was that had transformed her so, forged her into the warrior that she had become.

As I looked upon her in this moment all I saw was a reflection of what I am now.

“Who are you?” She commanded, encircling me as she spoke. The Blade of Osiris extended out, going from the size of a bayonet to a full sized broad sword. I observed as the bottommost tip of the Blade hollowed out into a barrel, a Gunblade that shot soul-shattering bullets.

“We are the same.” I strode towards myself as she deliberately began to lower the Blade of Osiris. I made my way behind my dreamself and moved adjacent to the woman, her back pressed against my chest. My fingers trailed down the side of her arm, my hand wrapping about hers as we both clutched the hilt of the Blade of Osiris.

“We are the same.” She repeated, tilting her head to the side, kissing me.

I closed my eyes and kissed her back and once I opened them again, she was gone and only I remained, standing in the midst of deceased Vampires, the Blade of Osiris in my hand. I overheard applause and when I spun around that’s when I saw it.

Not far off, resting in a truncated sapling branch was a man and yet, the way the face was configured it may well have been a woman, the sexual characteristics being ambiguous. Whether man or woman, it was something beyond magnificence, to the point that the term was insufficient to illustrate what it was that I saw. It was garbed in an extravagance that I was unsure of, seeming somewhat ultramodern and yet antediluvian at the same time.

“I don’t recall seeing you here once I reached this focal point of the dream.” I treaded closer to it, mystified by its unexplained appearance. “Who are you?”

“I am called Oneiroi.” It announced, vaulting down from the bough, settling before me. “Though which one is immaterial.”

On closer examination, I could comprehend that its skin was to a certain degree semitransparent, an auburn electrical current running underneath its epidermis that flickered and effervesced where its eyes ought to have been. It made an even disquieting appearance even that more alien, yet all the more alluring as well.

“Oneiroi?” I clutched the handle to the Blade of Osiris even tighter. “What is it that you want?”

Oneiroi fell back, yet as it did, a gnarled, crooked seedling sprung forth from the earth, twisting, heaving, forming a colossal oak born throne and Oneiroi landed into it as if it had eternally been there, destined for it to sit upon.

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