Come in and sit down, Autumn,” I invite softly. My body feels rigid and tense, but it will be a relief to finally get it out.
She walks forward and sits stiffly at the end of the chair opposite my desk. Her back ramrod straight with dread.
I remain standing. “Who… or what am I? I am the descendant of an ancient race of immortal beings who can live for many thousands of years. Our kind have lived on earth alongside humans since the beginning of time. It’s a long story, but human history is not as your rulers have taught you. Anyway, our relationship with mankind was peaceful, and we were viewed as benevolent guardians, and with fear. We were called the Shining Ones, and there were many glowing accounts of us in your most ancient texts and could be found in all great libraries, but they are all buried under the sea now.
“Originally, we were the keepers of knowledge and guardians of humanity. Especially, whenever there are extinction event cataclysms on earth that happen in cycles, every twelve to fourteen thousand years. When one of these catastrophes, which we callEMPOCs, happen, the damage is unimaginable. There is death and destruction everywhere. Everything is obliterated. Huge parts of continents sink into the sea, drowning all its inhabitants and leaving not even a trace of their civilization, while other parts of land full of sea creatures will rise from the ocean. And sometimes the earth burned for days, obliterating everything in its path.
“The bible tells one story of a people who were devastated by a great flood, but there have been many other such cataclysms that have befallen earth. During this time, all technology is lost, and the trauma and shock is so all encompassing the survivors collectively suffer a mind wipe of sorts. They walk around in a daze and it has always been our kind who guided them in the rebuilding of their destroyed cities. We brought seeds that we had saved in underground vaults and taught them agriculture.
“If you’ve ever wondered why archeologists sometimes dig up artifacts that carbon date back to hundreds and thousands of years, but those items show signs of being cut by laser machinery or made by some other historically impossible technology and advances, it is because the real history of the earth has been deliberately hidden from you. Humankind has attained greater heights during other cycles of civilization.”
She stares at me, her face white and incredulous. Her body frozen in shock.
“During the golden age of Egypt, my descendants took a wrong turn. The same way the fall of humankind was caused by Eve being tempted into eating the forbidden fruit, one of us was seduced by the dark magic of the powerful priesthood of that age. She let one drop of human blood fall on her tongue, and all of us lost the ability to fly. We fell into the sin of craving blood above all else. And there we have remained ever since.”
Autumn’s eyes widen with shock as she gasps furiously, “No. This cannot be true.” She shakes her head in disbelief and puts her hands over her ears. “No, this is a sick, sick joke. Vampires do not exist.”
“It’s not a joke,” I say calmly. “In your heart, you know it is true. You saw me lift your car. You just didn’t want to believe your own eyes so you blocked the memory. You wanted to pretend to yourself for a little longer. There is no more pretending, Autumn.”
She closes her eyes, then reopens them. All the light in them is gone. She looks at me dully. “You’re a vampire.”
Shame fills my body, but I don’t look away from her. I am what I am and she is what she is. Nothing will change that. “When we fell, we became the exact opposite of what we had once been. Our skin that was illuminated and glowing with white light was taken away from us, and sunlight became deadly to us. Even the weakest ray of sun can seriously burn our skin. Physically, we were still beautiful, but we had become creatures of the night. Predators, who had to hide our true natures from humanity.
“Blood lust is something no human can ever understand. Yes, there are humans who become Satanists and they drink blood at ceremonies, and they probably quite enjoy the wickedness of it all, but it is not like that for us. The only way you can even begin to understand how it feels, is if you try to imagine you are starving.
“You haven’t eaten for days, then someone puts a wonderful, favorite hot meal in front of you. You can see it, and smell it. It is right in front of you, but your hands and feet are tied and your mouth is taped shut. As I stand here now I can hear the blood rushing in your veins and I can smell it. Smoky sweet and seductively innocent. You had onions at lunch. And the adrenaline from your encounter with those intruders is still flowing in your blood. Adrenaline is like a drug. A drug far, far more addictive than the purest heroin.
“Do you want to drink my blood?” she asks, her voice shaking with horror.
“Yes, I want to,” I admit brutally. “And I cannot stop the blood lust, just like you cannot stop your heart from beating, or your kidneys from doing what they are supposed to do. You see, our greatest punishment is not that we lost our light, or we have to slink and slither by night and can never feel the wonderful warmth of the sun again. It is having to endure the curse of this relentless clawing thirst for blood, day and night... for eternity.”
She shakes her head in rejection at my words. “No. No. Oh, my God, no. I cannot believe this. This is just so incredible, so unbelievable. And to think I laughed when I read Interview With A Vampire at the absurdity of vampires going around killing humans every night. As if they wouldn’t be found out. And here you are telling me you and your family are going about doing just that.”
“You were right to laugh, because that is not how it is done. We couldn’t, as you put it, go around killing humans every night, or we would have quickly aroused suspicion, become known to the communities that we blended into, and eventually destroyed. The solution was obvious. We had to have our own supply. Like the Massai tribes who drink the blood of the cattle without killing them.”
She presses the heel of her hand to her head in disbelief. “Oh God, you own humans?”
“I don’t, not anymore, but my family and the others of my kind do.”
She frowns. “How? I mean where are these poor people kept?”
“In underground facilities.”
She covers her gaping mouth, and shoots to her feet. “Jesus, I have to get out of here!”
“You cannot run from this any longer, Autumn. I know you are shocked and horrified, but please sit down and let me finish. I have to tell you everything because you have to know everything, no matter how distasteful. It is the truth.”
Slowly, she lets herself fall back on the chair.
“When I say underground facilities, I don’t mean sordid little prisons dug into the ground. Earth is not a solid ball, it is more like Swiss cheese with many deep tunnels, and massive secret underground caverns, some are humongous with ceiling heights as tall as a New York skyscraper. Some of these spaces are owned by humans and called DUMBs (deep underground military bases), but they are mostly owned by Vampire families who bought up the land above these caverns a long time ago, then built homes with secret elevators that travel into the caverns underneath.
“Some of these settlements are so big they are spread out over areas bigger than Hunter’s Cross. They are powered with electricity, have rail networks, and are fitted with sophisticated aqueduct and filter systems that purify and distribute water and air. There are schools, shops, offices, coffee shops, a bar, a club for the young, a Church, a Police station, and a clinic.
“People live in comfortable units fitted with all mod-cons and have access to beautiful parks with tame birds and animals. Each person is given a hydroponic allotment garden where he/she can grow their own food if it so pleases them. They have no bills to pay, and food is plentiful so they have no need to work or produce anything of value, unless they want extra credits which will allow them to shop at the luxurious stores. They are free to spend their time on leisure activities; painting, sewing, making furniture, distilling whiskey, playing video games. There is no crime. The inhabitants fall in love, marry, bear children, and bury their dead. They have no idea about life on the surface of the earth and yearn for nothing. Once a month they go to the clinic and donate a pint of blood. They don’t know why they do it, but it has always been done that way.”
She tilts her head and looks at me the way someone would if they rescued a stray kitten the night before and have walked into their kitchen and found a fully grown, hungry panther prowling around.
“And your family has one of these... settlements?”
“Yes. It is called The Parallel.”
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