Aleron: Book One of Strigoi Series (Stringoi Series) (3 page)

I felt a presence, and I wondered if it could feel mine. I flattened a hand against the door. It was identical to the one that had held me captive moments before. I knew it would challenge my strength yet again
to break through the door, but I was ravenous. Facing it, I pushed on it with both hands, and to my surprise, it nearly broke off the hinges as it flung open.

The room was smaller than my cradle. I didn’t have the patience to examine its details, for the hunger in me was consuming. Instantly I affixed my eyes on a man stretched out on the floor. There was no light in the room, but I could see him clearly. At once I was upon him. I didn’t quite understand why I was so drawn to him, but I knew it had to do with his scent and his heartbeat.

I blinked to focus, my mind trying to comprehend what my eyes were seeing. It was as if I were staring at an illuminated depiction of the body’s circulatory system. I could see every intricate pathway from the farthest minute vein to the largest blood-filled artery, and I could hear the faint sound of blood slowly pulsing through his arteries and veins.

With one hand, I picked the man up by his neck. I grabbed his arm with my other hand and plunged my teeth into it, just below the wrist, and began sucking his blood. It was an indescribable feeling of pleasure and satisfaction. After a moment, my previously numbing, insatiable hunger was starting to subside. My knees began to feel weak as I greedily drained as much of his blood as I could take. I let his body fall lifelessly to the floor. I, too, felt lifeless as I struggled to maintain my balance. I dropped to one knee, breaking an unavoidable clumsy fall. What sweet nectar! Within him was the answer to everything. My mind began to swim in ecstasy, drunk from the most delicious wine I’d ever known, satisfied and settled within myself.

I knew no answers to why I felt this way. My eyes wandered about the room, while visions of the dead man circled me. Everything began to spin as my mind entered orbit, where gravity granted me freedom. No. I knew nothing of these things I could do. I knew less than nothing of what I’d just done. I was certain of little, but one thing I was certain of was that human I was not!

What have I become? What type of beast am I?
I wondered. My head was filled with visions of latent yet vivid memories of things I could not possibly have experienced.
I’m dreaming while awake
, I rationalized. I
felt a euphoric, comforting warmth. It was a blissful moment, each second feeling like an eternity.

I was weak, almost numb. I wanted to lie on the floor, but I didn’t want to sleep. I simply needed to rest. It was as if my body willed itself to the damp, unyielding stone floor. I couldn’t resist the call of gravity as the muscles in my legs were no longer under my command. The famine that had once ruled me had been replaced by paralyzing fatigue. I could barely move. It was as if my brain was failing to send messages to my muscles. My eyelids grew heavy. I tried to force them open, but I couldn’t. Channeling all of my strength and will, I made an infant’s cry for help.

“I’m sorry, my love,” she answered softly. “Rest now. When the sun sleeps, you’ll know more. I’ll show you.”

I slipped into unconsciousness.

I couldn’t tell how much time had passed before my eyes opened. And when I awoke, I was fully aware but clumsy, as if I had partaken of too much brandy wine the night before. However, I had all of my mental faculties. My mind was sharp, my hearing keen. I detected a familiar and delightful scent, her fragrance. She was with me.

“Take my hand, my child,” she said in a caring voice. I complied, and she lifted me to my feet. Though I still felt weak, her strength more than made up for my unsteady legs. She took me into her arms as we seemingly floated swiftly across the stone floor, out of the room, and into a grand room filled with vibrant, contrasting colors. Brilliant velvet drapes hung from the twenty-foot ceiling to the intricately designed white-stone floor. A painted portrait of an aristocratic figure stretched across the domed ceiling. I couldn’t help noticing the striking resemblance the figure bore to me. The windows were vast and plentiful, as were the larger-than-life marble statues around the room that depicted men and women with beatific features. The artwork on the walls depicted surreal
landscapes: beautifully captured bodies of water reflecting castles that were monuments to the architectural prowess of the most sophisticated designers of their time.

The room’s furnishings were fit for a king: linens and rugs made from the finest silks, cotton, and animal furs. Unmatched luxury! Obviously, no expense had been spared in the creation of this magnificent place where the exquisite princess undoubtedly lived. Candles burned along the walls next to every door and windowsill, releasing the faint aroma of cinnamon and spice and casting dancing shadows about the room. Carefully designed floral arrangements sat in each windowsill, emitting their exotic scents. I wanted desperately to know where I was.

“You’re with me, Aleron”—her reply to a question I didn’t ask aloud. She walked over to me. With every step and every touch, I was bewitched. She continued, “Even though your thoughts are known to me as if my own, you do not have full access to my thoughts. It’s in your nature to be inquisitive, so I grant you this now. Ask what you wish, and I promise to answer in such a way that you’ll have complete understanding.”

So many questions flooded my mind, but I chose the one that burned the brightest and eclipsed the others. “Who are you?”

“My name is Mynea,” she replied softly.

“Where am I?”

“You’re in my home. My castle.”

“Why am I here?”

“You have been chosen.”

“Chosen? For what?”

“It’s not the time to reveal the answer to that question. Though I’m always certain of my choice, one’s strengths and weaknesses after transformation are often unpredictable.”

Transformation
, I thought.

“Yes, my child, transformation.”

“
What
am I?”

“That, my child, is why I’ve returned after your slumber.”

Slumber?
I thought.

“Yes, you were resting for nearly eleven moons during your transformation.”

“What am I?” I repeated.

“I’ll tell you what you are in due time. Now I must teach you the most basic and most important lesson of your survival. Your strength is waning, and your mind and senses are not as keen as they should be. The hunger awakened you. You just didn’t know how to feed.”

Before I could respond, I heard a door open, and I turned to see who was entering the room. It was a young woman dressed in garments not as elegant as the clothing worn by Mynea. She guided into the room, by a chain, a younger woman, a girl really, in a tattered robe. The chained girl seemed dazed and befuddled; however, she wasn’t struggling. The young woman led her directly to Mynea.

“As you requested, my lady,” she said while hesitating to look Mynea in the eyes.

“Thank you, Eliza. You can go now.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

Eliza left the room. Suddenly the captive girl lifted her eyes and affixed them on me. Without moving her lips she spoke to me. I could hear her thoughts in my mind.
Demons!

I felt uneasy. Dizzy. How could I hear her thoughts as if she were speaking them directly to me? I thought of Mynea speaking to me at the Promethium without opening her mouth. I was confused.

Sensing my apprehensiveness, Mynea spoke, “Be still, my love. She’s been brought here with purpose. You have much to learn about the hunger that awakened you. An appetite you’ll feel every night until the end.”

I’ve never forgotten the first hunger. It was excruciatingly painful. Mynea continued to tell me about the longing for blood that drove me to the edge of sanity. “You didn’t know what you craved, but instinct led you to the meal prepared for you in the dungeon. The first door you struggled to open was the same as the one you seemingly tossed off the hinges. The difference was in the hunger-induced strength,” Mynea explained. The taste of the blood rushed back into my mouth.

“You drank the blood. It quenched and satisfied your hunger, but it made you weak. Pay close attention to what I’m about to tell you, for it can mean life or death to our kind if not abided by.”

“What you are now is far more than you’ve ever been as a human. In
the eyes of man, you’ll seem no different from them. No different from what you once were. However, you infinitely differ from your former self. I’m here to reveal what that difference is, starting with how we survive.” Mynea left my side and walked a few feet away, never taking her eyes off of me.

“We are predators. We survive under the guise of our prey and the darkness that brings the shadows. Just like any other animal, we must know our food. Understanding their anatomy is essential for this most important lesson. The human blood system is simple. However, misunderstanding it can be fatal. The center of the blood system is the heart. It receives unclean blood from the veins and cleans it, then pushes the clean blood through the arteries to all the essential organs of the body. Though we can feed from any one of these organs or drink from any vein or artery, we must use caution in our choice. We can realize our true selves only with the consumption of clean blood. Unclean blood may quench the thirst, but it paralyzes our muscles and can render us vulnerable.”

“I drank dirty blood.”

“Yes, my love,” Mynea confirmed. “Dirty blood filled you and arrested your movements with warm, swift, blissful judgment. The forbidden nectar. You must now learn to feed properly.”

She fixed her eyes on the girl Eliza had brought in. Her body jolted straight and stiff, her fingers and toes outstretched, with her eyes opened wide. Her feet were no longer touching the ground. Mynea had her under total control. Her pupils fixed on me once more. I could hear her thoughts, but they were all jumbled, incoherent. I only made out what seemed to be a prayer.

“Look at her, my child.” I did Mynea’s bidding. I saw an ordinary female human. She was noticeably commonplace. There was nothing special about her, and just as I began to turn my attention back to Mynea, I began to see the girl’s blood. I saw a beating mass of red muscle depicting a young and healthy heart. From the heart I saw thousands of tiny glowing conduits. My eyes felt strange as the picture became more vivid. And from the heart I heard its symphony, low and distinct, hastened in its rhythm, feeding her body.

“See the difference between the vein and artery, my love?” Mynea continued. I noticed a slight difference in the size of certain pathways and the direction of blood flow. Indeed, I now saw distinct differences between the arteries and veins.

“Good. Now do what comes naturally to you. Feed and feel revived.”

Yes, I could hear her heart quickening as I opened my mouth to kiss her neck just above the shoulder. Mynea watched with a mother’s grace and a father’s expectation. My lips were now on her neck. She was in my arms, completely frightened and overwhelmed in my grasp. I bit down and felt my teeth pierce the skin. The girl opened her lips but only a whimper escaped. Next, I heard the crackling sound of my jaw crushing the bone. She withdrew from the pain but never did she scream.

“Gently, my love,” Mynea said. “You needn’t even try to break the skin. Simply kiss her with care, and you’ll draw out her blood.”

It was entirely too late. The blood from the artery filled my mouth and throat. The first meal paled in comparison to this cuisine. I felt invigorated. Her blood tasted like liquid fire. I was completely and utterly hypnotized by the visions of her thoughts and memories. With every passing second, a year of her life was told to me in disjointed little chapters. I pulled her closer as I fed from her throat as an animal might. It was as if my salvation depended on this child-woman giving her life to me, her blood in exchange for my mercy in hurrying her passage into whatever lay ahead, after death.

I opened my eyes and stared at her. She was no longer the young girl I’d had in my arms. She had become something else entirely. She was my nourishment, the source of my new strength and thus, inherently, my weakness. I continued to drink as her heartbeat grew more and more lethargic, until it was gone. Her body went limp as I struggled to remove my mouth from the open wound I inflicted upon her. The deed was done. All signs of life that had once danced in the eyes of this young woman were gone from her pale, withered body. She was no more. I, however, was forever more than I’d ever been! Everything she once was, I had taken into me.

“You see, my love. You feel stronger. Absolutely powerful. Therein lies the difference. The artery is the key to quench the crippling thirst
you shall forever feel every night. The blood is your life force and shall revitalize all that you are every time you answer the call of your most basic and natural instinct, to feed.”

Indeed, this was the single most important lesson she ever taught me. “Your basic instinct is necessary for your survival,” she continued. “It’s also through this understanding that you leave yourself vulnerable to others who may want to do you harm. You must not allow your hunger to control you. You must control it. It’s fundamental that you discern how often you need to feed, for it will change as you grow older. It will also fluctuate depending on what you drink.”