Saying Goodbye to the Sun

Author:David McAfee [McAfee, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, Vampires, david mcafee, council of thirteen, vampire, vampire romance, paranormal romance
Publisher: David McAfee
Published: 2010-12-26T02:46:44+00:00

Chapter Twelve:

The Dream

I don’t remember much of what happened after I drank from Lannis’ opened veins. Most of what I do remember has to do with the senses: the cold, hard feel of the stone under my back, the eerie sound of Lannis whispering in a lost language, and the intoxicating scent of blood as it poured from freshly torn skin. And the taste, of course. That first life-altering taste of Bachyir blood sent my mind reeling. The sweet, slightly metallic flavor washed through me, lifting me up above the darkened chamber of stone and into the night sky, making me one with the darkness all around. I realized then it was not blood I was drinking.

It was Life.

Then she pulled her wrist away and the feeling ceased. I was just Vincent Walker again, but too tired and exhausted to wonder about it. The world around me seemed to fade, or was it my sight that was failing? I couldn’t tell and didn’t really care. There were only two things I did care about, one of them was blood. I wanted more. I needed more.

The other thing I craved was sleep, and the need for sleep overcame my desire for more blood. My eyes seemed to close of their own free will. Very soon after I drank, the world grew dark and I slipped away from it.

***

I am walking naked and barefoot through the woods of a strange, misty valley. The sun, if it’s out at all, is nowhere to be seen. All around me the mist has reduced the world to indistinct shades of gray. As I walk I am humming a song that makes me sad. I don’t know the name of it, but I assume it will come to me in time. The truth is, I don’t know much of anything. I know only that I am here, and so is she. I can hear her sobbing in the mist.

But where, exactly, is here?

The sobs sound distorted and muffled. I can’t place their direction. They seem to be coming from everywhere. From my left, my right, even above me, as though the source of the sobs might well be the fog itself. I know this is not the case, however. The sobs are coming from her, not the fog.

As I walk, I search for her. This is the reason I am here; to find her. I have a strange feeling I am supposed to do something with her, but I don’t remember what it is or who sent me to do it; I only know that I have a job to do. I think it’s important, perhaps important enough that lives may depend on it. However, I have no way of knowing for sure. Perhaps it’s all in my mind, and I’m not really here at all.

I reach out my hand to touch the slick, wet trunk of a nearby tree, and for the first time I notice it is dead. Scarred and blackened from roots to skeletal canopy, which is just barely visible in the soft gray.

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