Poems and Other Stuff {including plot bunnies}

Path of the Damned

For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that a man hath no preeminence above a beast: for all is vanity. All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again. ~Ecclesiastes 3:19,20

Chicago November 19th 9:00 p.m.

My eyes slightly shifted from the peach tapestry to the small window that lay to my right. The long day was finally coming to the end, and soon the night would take over Chicago. Though at the moment it was picture perfect.

The colors of the sky were a dazzling pink, purple, red, and bits of blue and white. It was one of those moments were you wish you could just reach out and touch the heavens.

Though what silly thoughts. To be able to touch the Heavens.

This made me smile slightly as I let the chilly air fill up my body with the essence of the city & the lift of the 21st century. From where I sat I could taste the nicotine of cigarettes in the air. I could taste the pizza that was being delivered down the road. I could taste the perfume that a women is putting on a mile away.

All my thoughts went back to one time I had witnessed, watching man land on the moon. The wonder, the mystery, the astonishment. It flowed through people, like water in a river. It created an age, the Space Age. It seemed that was where everyone's eyes turned, towards the heavens.

It made me think back to the American Civil War. Of the Idea that a different race, or a different color could have anything. The people who believed in this. Their battles. In that area you saw determination, fierceness, and the faith. That is what filled their eyes, their words, their actions.

Now we rest in an Area that creates nothing in our eyes. They are blank and full of the numbers that fill the screen of the Technology. Creativity begins to be thrown to the dust. We do not need our determination, our mystery, our wonder, our astonishment, our fierceness, or our faith. They are all now just words that fill paper. Nothing more, Nothing less.

With a sigh I pulled up my blanket and covered my arms, turning my eyes back to the tapestry. In that moment I wished to just reach out and stroke it gently with my hand. Though I sat there waiting for the wish to faded from my mind. From which it did.

As I looked at the tapestry, I realized that I had already lost interest in it. With that I let my eyes drift around the room and study each and I let myself become lost in the little details.

Even though I have seen this room some times before, it still feels fresh & new. I couldn't help but let my eyes turn to the peeling brown wallpaper that barely clung to the wall. Like silk to a person. The few pieces of furniture that had not been broken, had been discoloured. They cluttered this room.

The once Red sofa, now appeared to be a pink.  The decade old pictures were fading and becoming better firewood if anything.

This is how I like it. This is how it shall stay.

From where I sat I could hear the outside world perfectly. The children playing in the alley beneath. The birds in the park miles away, chirping. The chatter of woman over a drink. Little noises were everywhere.

I, though, was able to pick out exactly what I wanted to hear. Footsteps protruding up the steps of the hallway. I could sense it, their aroma flowed through the door and intoxicated the air. The sweet smell of a sun kissed rose, & the hardy stench of Brandy. I spoke their names just as they entered the room.

"Hugh, Katrina." My voice let out, it sounded as if I was full of whiskey. Over the ages my voice has become rougher, due to my cutbacks. A low rough, croak.

I spoke their names as the entered, timing perfectly. They barely got in the door before they stopped. Katrina stood there looking at me with pity melting in her eyes. Her normally curly brown hair was put up & soaked with the fall rain. This normally charismatic women was silenced by my voice.

Hugh on the other hand lifted the black cap off his head, then taking one hand and running through this smooth black hair. Both of their brown eyes stared at me. We stayed in our positions in a dead lock. I breathed in the air as the sun began to vanish from the sky.

"Lucian you are not well, are you?" Katrina murmured as she lifted up her foot about to draw closer to me. I let out a loud breath of air. "Child, I'm never well. Or well I will never be well." I respond. Hugh's gaze turned to another door, a door that lead to another room. Katrina & his room to be exact.

I knew Hugh didn't care about my life, he only focused on the moment. He didn't want to hear Katrina ask me the nonsense & my pathetic answers. I could easily read this on his face. He disappeared quickly into his room leaving Katrina & I.

"Please tell me." She begged as she came to my side. She went to her knees placing her arms on my lap. She looked up at me like a child to their parent. The questions flowed through her eyes. I scoffed at her question. "You wouldn't understand dear." I replied as I looked back at the tapestry.

If only I could reach out and touch it. "Please." Her whispered filled my thoughts. I let out a deep sigh. Was she really going to bother me with this? Ever since she was created I've been like this. It made me for a brief second reflect upon my past.

My eyes turned from Katrina to the red chair in the corner of the room. Oh have times changed. The silence filled as I placed my folded hands on top of Katrina's hands. The memories flooded my mind, yet I kept quiet and calm as I sat there. I was very satisfied with the memories, they were good. Like most old souls, I have no regrets.

A short shaky breath escaped my lips. "Lucian, please tell me." Katrina's voice sounded like silk, it washed a sense of shallowness in me. Why am I so selfish, that I can not share my story with Katrina. Come to think of it. I've never really told, my close, Hugh about it. My past. My only ghost the only ghost that haunts me.

"I will, though you must understand. Times were much different back then. I was different." I explained as I looked upon Katrina's eyes. They seemed to glow, the human part of her began to come back.

"I have been what I am........." I paused for a second letting those memories settle in my mind. "A Vampire, for 250 years--" Katrina's voice quickly cut into my sentence. "250?" She gasped. I smiled. That must seem like such a long time, she has only been a vampire for 2 years. I nodded at her as a grin flashed onto my lips. Her eyes were aglow with wonder.

"How bout, my dear, I tell you my story....." Though again she cut in. "Am I the only one in this home that knows nothing about your past?" She frowned as she removed her hands from my lap. "Hugh only half of my past, the parts he was in." I explained as I glanced to the window.

"Though my life I have learned so much about what we are. The origins, the reasons, the true science behind it all." I stopped looking at Katrina. She has not interrupted, she instead was seated in a folding chair next to me. Her eyes are eating up everything. They hunger for more though, a short chuckle escapes my lips. She reminds me of myself many years ago.

"Here, how about I start on April 10th, in the year 1762 in Comber Ireland." I could sense Katrina's need for me to stop. "You are from Ireland? I mean, you don't look it & you don't have the accent." She stated as she gestured from my face to my feet.

"Yes, yes. Over the years I have been able to water down my accent & well to explain how I look......my father was from England." She nodded as I said that, she understood, which was very nice. 

"Back to the story. I grew up in Comber with my parents, who were farmers & my five siblings. I was 26 when I left Ireland for America. The colonies of opportunity. I was aboard the ship the Saint Charles. My journey began on a port with one single suitcase & a new begging in my sites. My family were farther back watching me get onto the Saint Charles right before it leaved port. This is how it began..............................."

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Here is my first chatper to Path of the Damned. I hope you like it. We shall hear more about Lucian's tale in the next.....well first chapter. Have a great night.....or well day!

Emmie