Nights on the Soul©

So hungry.

***

A pain boiled deep inside my blood. I was totally beaten by the utter loneliness. Alas, Dave had not returned my call. Stalked, bitten, abandoned. That was my case. Hate my only friend. Brian and Deenie were there for me but as ideals. Their living situation could only be attained by my mating with the one who had left me, seemingly for good. Brian and Deenie were so blissfully together, so eternally in love, it turned my stomach to be near them. What they had reminded me of what I wanted. I had been so close, but chickened out over some mythical beliefs held by mortals in fear. What lies beyond death but more life? Why should one be afeared for living on in the same body instead of dying only to be re-born? Was the bloodletting morality wrong by society’s standards, or morally right by those immortals of love, practically using a source to sustain their strength after their realization until they find ‘The One?’ It seemed that the immortals could have great influence in destruction or good deeds, but often did not care so much about the fate of mankind. Only their simple, unstoppable love was of any meaning or magnitude. Mankind itself did great good or great wrong, with or without the influence of immortal love. Mankind would kill or bless the masses in any age, in any case, as history unfolded.

I, Mira, was one living soul in this mass of consciousness called life. My body was dying to the limits of biological formation, while expanding its capacity to subsist on thought. The forefront of my thought at this point was hatred, taking root about the bones of my physical being. Hate would be my hell and damnation. Doom and death to the light of my soul. Exploding hate would quench my fire for life and any desire for re-birth. Hate would truly prove my death. The outcome of a hateful existence cannot be redeemed in any way, shape, or form. It’s only determinant eternal death. Since I had seen the face of eternal life, in love, I knew this as a hope to be attained. I knew this as a goal to be achieved. I knew this as a necessity to my continuance.

But, today, I hated Dave McKay from the bowels of hell’s door. For I lived inside the gate. Each day alone the boil of my hate festered in sweltering heat. It was summer in hot and humid Florida. I took to only leaving my house at night. By day, I dozed without dreams, restless. I prayed Dave’s death or deliverance unto me. His Godfullness did not answer.

I left Emily Street around nine PM., full of hate and hunger. I was weak in my will to take life and rarely scourged up the energy to satiate my needs. Tonight I needed blood. I headed toward Woodlawn Cemetery and Brian and Deenie’s. They would offer support and condolences after a kill, then hope in my wait for Dave. As his mate he’d have to come back for me. It was just a matter of time, which meant nothing to him. Time to me was time alone torn between love and hate, killing for the continuance of my life in this body and the knowledge in my mind. I still had only a small grasp of my many past lives and the denial or certainty of being mated to Dave then or now. In the past I had feared or misunderstood the presentation of his self. I let preconceived notions determine my judgment against a man whose only ambition was to join with my love. Love is his ruling force, not his momentary death that gives him life. The simple death of a current body is secondary to the flow and purpose of our union. So I was ready to take a life, for my death wish was growing, my blood thinning, strength faltering. My will to continue the searchful waiting for Dave waned. I needed blood and I needed to see the only two people who understood my pains. I walked west towards North Boulevard. I stuck out my thumb as though hitching for a ride. A big old green Impala pulled over for me almost immediately.

“Hey, baby. Ya wanna lift?” The owner of this vehicle was a lower caste product of white trash rearing. Garbage lay in a mound upon the floor and the seat was further lined with fast food bags, cigarette packs and a litter of dirty clothing. The world would not be lost without this careless cretin of a man. I did not care for the way he leered at me and felt sure I would not feel guilt for taking his blood.

“Yeah sure. A lift is fine. But mostly I turn tricks. You got any money?”

His eyes lit up as he fished for his wallet and pulled out a twenty.

“Yeah, O.K. Pullover to that church parking lot on the corner there.” I savored the irony of it all.

Parked behind the sermon announcement window, he started taking off his shirt. A thirtyish male who smelled of stale beer, his yellow teeth showed off by his cheesy grin. I was almost turned off to the taking. I never searched too hard for blood and took what came my way. I put my hands about his head, covering both ears. with a quick jerk, I broke his neck and silenced that silly smile. I turned his head far back so I wouldn’t have to look at his ugly face. I took an army knife from my pocket and slit the guy’s neck. I drank and drank and drank his foul blood. The cheaper the better. I should never enjoy it until Dave. The chore involved in discarding the body or disguising the crime of my murder was one I disliked. The reward for a taken life, however, was a necessity. I knew the essence of Dave’s blood to be so pure as to provide my veins with crystalline immortality, a fate to be filled once united. Apart as I was, the salty liquid must fill me when weak to provide hope for that future and blind the present. I felt a momentary love for the life I took away, this fleeting emotion countered the hate that would swallow me in his death. I was once again full of hope in the glory that would be mine. It was only time till I met Dave again, and time for us was eternal. I left the dead guy then, having wiped the skin off my blade onto his vinyl seats. I didn’t actually care much about bodies being found, but I always tried to confuse the method of death. The whole process of sucking bloodlife away was something I’d rather not think about, and did so only when the thirst was great. I left then, for the rest of my life was about to unfold.

I crept silently up the blackened stairway to Brian and Deenie’s. I could hear the faint whine and sighing of some deeply gothic music. As I opened the unlocked front door was greeted by the warm glow of candles lit for the long evening. My friends embrace the traditional image of the vampire society’s sight. Looks and dress and a playful attitude taunted the dreams of the masses. These two were the happiest, nicest, most loving couple I’d ever met. Truly they wouldn’t hurt anyone, they just made you think they would. Their presence in public was a total charade. They simply wanted to have fun most of the time, which was a long time for them. Their great love gave them all the time in the world.

“Mira, Mira, in the hall. Who’s the oldest of them all? We are, my love, we are.”

Deenie jumped out of the little descended cubby hole room. It was the size of a king sized bed, two feet lower than the rest of the apartment. A gauzy black curtain hung in front of the doorway as though a window. I knew Deenie especially liked to spend time in that room with its’ collection of witchcraft memorabilia, a pentagram chalked onto the floor, pouches of herbs, and multi colored candles. Housed amidst this paganism was a religious collection befitting a museum. Deenie had accumulated various statues of the Virgin Mary and Jesus, picture cards of the saints ornately decorated with gilded gold. One Mary had a stranglehold of rosaries about her neck, mother of pearl, black onyx, rose quartz beads gave birth to a host of silver crucifixes. There was a tall thin mirror in the middle of one wall and this was surrounded top to bottom on each side with silver, bronze, iron and wooden crosses. Christ in ivory took a frontal place to all of this. My favorite piece in all of this was a carving of Mary’s head, in a cloud of blue, with true to life glass eyes. It was beautiful.

Deenie came over and gave me a hug. She offered tea which I declined, full as I was on the night’s kill. She said Brian was at the store getting some cigarettes.

“Deen, I just don’t know what I’m doing. I’m fucking depressed all the time. I’m waiting for this eternal love that may never come back to me and so am I stuck in eternity alone now? I mean, I didn’t ask to be Dave’s bride of the afterlife, but he fed me his blood and it’s made me what I am and now he’s gone!? I just don’t get it. I’m completely stuck between two worlds, mostly in yours though. I’m hardly real in this context of life, yet. I’ll never die except by my own choosing. Well, hell, I don’t want to live this life. I’m freaking out, Deen, really I am. I drank blood tonight. I needed it. If only Dave would come. I would be there for him forever. I would do his every bidding. I would never leave his side. I’d fly off to the heavens and never see earth again. I would fade into mist and live as breath in his body if only he would come. Dear God, I’ll go mad soon, I swear!”

“Mira, calm down. No there’s nothing you can do about Dave this moment so I propose we do something about saving your sanity. Realize, darling, that if Dave has left his plane, as he is often willing to do, these few months are but a blink in time for him. He knows he has spawned you. He also knows that you, yes you Mira, are the one he has searched for all these hundreds of years. Believe me, one day he will come for you. But, meantime you must be patient.”

“But, Deen, the thirst is growing. I crave the blood now. I need its fulfillment. I’m biting my lips to taste it. You know how I hate the act. I need Dave. Living without him is tearing me apart. I love him and I hate him so much at the same time. I pray for his deliverance one moment and his death the next. Of course, he’s the one who cursed me with this non-death, non-life. God, I’m so thirsty.”

“I know sweetie. It’s hard when you’re alone. We were never meant to be alone. God created us as parts of a whole. And so few people truly find their mate. When they do, you can do anything. Brian and I, well, we’ve just enjoyed being with each other. We have fun together and that’s all I care about. Nothing means more to me than he does. We exist for each other and that’s the only reason to exist. It’s the only reason not to die. You will see. Right now you just have to be strong. And you need to drink. Well, Brian and I had an idea. Oh, I think that’s him now.”

I looked out an open window to see Brian half a block away. Deenie’s hearing was finely tuned to her husband’s movement. They were dramatically in tune to every aspect of each other, truly two parts of a whole unit. Some birds chirped sweetly in the early evening and for once I felt an almost forgotten emotion, happiness. In their dark, patchouli scented apartment I was at ease. Deenie put on Schubert’s Ave Maria. The splendor of it’s religiosity was so soothing. I closed my eyes to a dreamscape.

I had the body of an ancient Goddess, full and plump with long flowing hair. I sat in a forest, amidst a plethora of extravagant growth. I held in my lap a woven blanket that I had made that morning. Every morning I’d weave a complete blanket. The days were passed in joyful thankfulness, breathing the gift of life. Father and Mother, God and Goddess alike had given me a glorious role to perform. My stomach was round with child. I had an effusive smile upon my lips which benevolently blessed all the children about me. There were many. A little girl of about five years of age sat to my right. She looked up to me with pure love, in her eyes, in her heart. She called me Mama. Straight black hair fanned her shoulders, her eye- lashes were long and thick. She wore a simple cotton sari, and sat with me in the sun, repeating my prayers and blessings.

“Holy Nomina! a bounteous One, Father and Mother of all. We call on you today and every day to receive your blessed guidance. Let my people be rewarded for the fruits of their labor, grant us an abundant harvest. And when the work of day is done and we make merry unto you, honoring you that has made us so happy, let my people be free of the ways of men, that we may love like Gods and Goddesses. That we may produce babes of innocence in your honor, angels sent from your holy rooms, to breath the life of God in Time. Multiply my people, that we show grace to our Father and Mother, creators and do likewise. Bring me more children. Holy Nomina, Bless the Children.”

And I would continue to smile, for the joy never left, when I was surrounded by my babies. I patted my round belly, the flower budding in my womb. And at dusk I gave birth, to a perfect baby boy. I thought it would be a male child this time. The last three had been girls. My baby sucked at my breast then was taken care of by the host of fairies who flitted in and out of the trees, watching over my brood. As I slept my husband came to me, made love to me, and impregnated me with his seed. I was never without child, for by dawn my belly was again full and expectant. A day of prayer and thankfulness would produce another blessed specimen of God’s creation. A child of God, a blessing indeed. A child tonight as sure as any other night. I did not know my husband was God, but I suspected. Holy Nomina, thank you.

My eyes shot open and I was gasping for air and choking back laughter all at once. Deen was laughing at me, too, as she told me I’d been chanting the holy am in between choruses of Ave Maria.

“You’re cracking me up, Mira. Oh, and Brian’s missed it. Bugger. Maybe you can do it again, that was downright funny.”

Just then Brian came inside, carrying a gray striped street cat and a carton of Marlboro’s.

“Have a smoke, Mira?”

“No, you know what I crave.”

“Deen didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what? No, I just got here myself. What’s up?”

“Brian and I had a revelation about you, Mira,” Deenie said. “You are the first incarnated woman to have come over for Dave. I heard of his sorrow at the loss of his wife. For a long while he rampaged and took many lives without thought. I think he was sorry later, when peace eventually came, but he never finished his search for his love. He was immortal, yes, but alone. That is not a place you wish to be forever. Brian and I have experienced three hundred years of devotion to each other. We like playing on this planet and do not yet choose to leave. But Dave, who we’ve known in various decades, seeks more. I think he seeks what is beyond this life. Beyond further incarnations and beyond eternal life. He seeks to know the light of God. We see that spark of light in you. It is hidden deep and you won’t let it shine alone. When you are with us and you meditate, it’s like your body of matter hovers in and out of mass, trying to be of light, but you won’t quite let it go. Well, anyway, I know you are The One Dave needs to transcend this whole material and mental plane. Undoubtedly he will be back. Meantime, Brian and I are offering for you to move in here.”

“And,” added Brian with important emphasis, “we are going to share our blood of life.”

To this I was shocked and delighted. Brian and Deenie had a love so grand. I knew their blood must be very powerful and run thick. For them to take me into their care, into their marriage even, was no ordinary thing. I was touched.

“God, you guys, are you sure? I mean, I know how devoted you are to each other and I just wouldn’t want to interfere. And, gosh, I have my own house. I can still stay there. Heck, you could move in there with me! Good lord, to drink your blood! I must be dreaming.”

“Mira, darling,” said Deenie, “nothing could stand in the way of my love for Brian. It has been us two for so long, well, we felt some fresh blood would do us good. And you are perfect for us. You’re so young and newly birthed. The immortality you received from Dave needs to be fed, and you might as well have the real stuff from us instead of the thin malnourished variety of the American workman at large.”

“God, Deen! You don’t know what this means to me. I am so totally honored you just don’t know. I’ve been so depressed and lonely lately.” I started to cry.

Deenie came over and hugged me. Brian sat on the floor in the corner smoking a cigarette. In his left hand he held a white candle. Every half minute or so he’d tip the candle so the wax would fall, dripping onto his arm, his pants, the carpet. Slight amusements on a hot summer evening. He formed a pile of wax in his palm, then put his cigarette out in it and held up his hand with a look of mock pain on his face. We all laughed. I felt better.

Deenie turned my face directly at hers. I gazed deeply into her beautiful green eyes, pale and luminous like a cat’s. The world as I knew it outside these rooms ceased to exist in that moment of utter release. I gave up all thought of past, present and future. All I knew were Deen’s eyes, inviting me into her body. Every muscle of my form was limp and relaxed. I was completely at peace. I was completely under her spell.

She leaned forward and ever so slightly brushed her lips over mine. The unexpected sensation of passionate love ran through my body like a silver bullet. My heart knocked hard upon my ribcage so I had to clutch at my chest with my hand to feel steady. Nothing in the world existed in that moment except Deenie and me.

“Mira, my sweet friend,” she said. “How I love you, long to kiss you. Be my love child tonight.”

She smiled at me so completely. I would have sold her my soul unconditionally at that instant, however the transaction proved void. For what we were initiating was the bond between a mother and daughter. Deenie provided for me the nurturing pabulum, as though I were a new fledged babe suckling at her breast. And I, a sanguineous being, born again, delighted at the exchange of life fluids and stories taking place. My days of cold killing were over, I knew, and happily so. I did not like the deed, and were it not the actual need for blood that drove me to it, I would remain as the frigid virgin scorning and spurning all that would come to relieve me of that position. But kill I must, and had, though always with an unwilling deportment.

Tonight I became Deenie’s daughter. It would be months before Brian shared with me his father’s feast. Meantime I grew strong on the vital force of my mother. During this time Deenie told me their story.

***