Reborn in Blood: Stories of Transformation

Reborn in Blood: Chapter Six

Reborn in Blood:  Chapter Seven

She awoke, bound again to the bed—she tasted blood in her mouth.  Choking back the urge to empty her stomach, she spat trying to clean her mouth.  As she raised her head up, she saw the robed ones taking up places around her bed.  Her mother stood the closest, standing right over her left shoulder—she could even smell the perfume she had come to cherish in times past; now its scent just made her gag.

“This is it, the final day of the ritual,” her mother began.  Her mother sat at her bedside; “I know the past thirty-nine days have been hard.  Rebirth is just as traumatic as real birth; being forced to identify, learn who you are without the lessons of the past to guide you, as I am sure you have learned in your little journeys when you tired to escape us.”  Reaching down to her the older woman brushed aside stray hairs her face.  “I know the trials and tribulations, I went through them too, this is the price we pay for power; this is the price the master paid to cheat the devil of his soul.”

“Just as he ate the flesh of a vampire for forty days in order to gain life never ending, so have we, and so shall you.”  Pausing the woman looked into the girl’s eyes, staring back she saw the tenderness and the safety she had seen so many times in her mother’s eyes.  “We have never done the ritual on one so young, you are the first.  Through this final transfusion, you shall become one of us, a child of the blood—yet you will be more powerful.  Your youth will aid you as you learn the ways that broke our bodies before we were granted blessed immortality.”

“It is time Clarice,” the man opposite of her said.

“Call in Brian.”

The man who had spoke pushed open the door allowing the man who had kissed her earlier access to the room.  He had his jaw taunt as he entered the room; in his hands he bore a two-inch by two-inch slab of flesh.  The wet blood ran between his fingers as he approached the bed.

Her mother reached out taking the gore into her hands, then looked back to her daughter; “This is it my child—the final flesh feast, the skin of a vampire:  Take this and eat.”  The older woman took the flesh, bringing it to the girl’s lips, which remained tightly shut.  “Do not force my hand child,” she threatened, yet the girl did not move.  “Fine.”

Listening the girl heard wood crack and moan, then felt wooden fingers digging into her jaw forcing her mouth open.  She tried to clench her jaw shut as the flesh was forced past her lips; the wooden fingers reversed their assault, pressing her mouth shut.  Choking, the flesh was cold and wet against her tongue, not completely unpleasant, but it was suffocating her.  Deciding on the flesh over death, she swallowed it, and seeing it pass through her throat the wooden fingers released her allowing her to gasp in much needed air.

Her mother smiled; “Good girl.  Now just one final matter before the transformation is complete—the communion of blood.”  The woman reached into her pocket, withdrawing a small blade and a jewel-encrusted chalice.  Cutting deeply into her wrist, the woman milked the wound, which would have normal caused an outpouring of blood in a human.  After several drops of her life force fell into the goblet, she passed it to her right.  Each of the conclave mimicked her actions, placing their blood in the cup, until it reached her mother again.

“Are you excited?” the woman’s eyes were wild, “You are about to inherit a legacy nearly eight centuries old.  Just as our master did it, now shall you gain life never ending and power beyond the dreams of mortals and immortals alike.”

The cup was pressed to her lips, pouring the crimson liquid into her mouth.  The warmth overwhelmed her; it started in her mouth then spread throughout her body.  Her head swam as she felt the energy pulsing through her, the room whirled then disappeared into nothingness.