Reflections at Sunset: A Lord Ruthven Novella

Chapter Seven: "An Evil Presence"

I rented a hotel to stay in to rest and gather my strength for the upcoming confrontation if I am to face him once again. I barely defeated him last time. It took a fire to weaken him, which is not something that can be expected to happen again. I slept an uneasy sleep and dreamt undreamable dreams. I remembered things that should not be remembered.

Everything would have been different if I had not meet Sir Augusts Darvell. I never would have returned to England, meet Aubrey, and ruined his life. Alissa would still be alive. Then again, events occur as they are meant to occur, my grandfather used to say to me whenever I complained about things not going my way. He was right, of course. From the moment I left the battlefield and wandered wounded into that forest to die, my life was to become what it is now. Her voice called to me and she healed all my injuries, making me her own. We spent a century together in the land of the Scots, living life according to our rules. Her loss led me to Rowena, which led me to Lucinda, which led me to the discovery of a world outside my tiny island. With Merielle came nobility. With nobility came Augustus. With Augustus came Aubrey. With Aubrey came Aubrei. With Aubrei came death...

With Aubrei comes death.

Life is a journey, whilst death is the destination. For five centuries I have avoided that destination, yet I see it coming; I have always seen it, whenever I go to sleep. My dream is always the same. I am in the ocean and swimming towards a distant shore. The waves crash around me, and I sink beneath the cool water. I struggle to rise to the surface, but I cannot get my head above water. I hold my breath for as long as I can, but, alas, my strength soon gives out. Water fills my lungs, and all goes black. What does that dream mean? I do not know.

Freud suggested that I have a fear of death.

"The shore represents life, while the water represents death. You seek to further your life futilely against the specter of death that is all around you. The more you struggle to resist death, instead of accepting the beast which claims us all in the end, the more painful the death will be for you when it finally arrives..." He paused for a moment to take a puff from his cigar. "Accept the fact that no matter how long you shall live, you shall eventually die..."

When I told Veronique later that night about his interpretation, she thought that he was insane. We were in our apartment in Vienna, still newlyweds in death, and she was drunk on Carpathian wine. She lay naked in our bed.

"He does not know what he is talking about," she said to me. "We shall live forever; death will never claim us."

I sat down beside her on the bed; she wrapped her arms around me. My gaze turned to her and she kissed my lips. With a smile on her face, she said sweetly, "I will love you forever."

"Forever and a day," was my reply. "Forever and a day."

Gazing out the hotel window I see clouds in the distance. A storm is brewing on the horizon, which means the day is coming to a premature end. I shall not have to wait until sunset.

One stormy night in our studio, I and Denise were stoned out of our minds. Reality had become hypersensitive. We rutted for what seemed like hours and then we passed out in each other's arms. The dream seemed more real than ever before. I awoke suddenly in a terrified sweat and sat up on our living room rug. Denise sat up beside me; her small perky breasts glistened in the light coming in between the blinds.

"What is wrong, sweetness?" she asked me in that melodious voice of hers, caressing my hair.

"Nothing, my pet," was my words. "Everything is fine."

"Don't lie to me," she said, bluntly. "It was the dream, again?"

"Yes."

"Dreams mean nothing," she replied. "They are simply your mind's way of dealing with the problems of your life."