Beloved: Memoir of a Phantom

Chapter 4- Gabriel's secret

CHAPTER 4

                        Gabriel’s secret

“For the longest time I heard and felt nothing,” Gabriel began slowly. “I was simply floating in space with no sense of my surroundings or time; all that I knew was wherever I was I was content. Then my peace was broken and I was dragged away by this horrible nauseating feeling that started in my stomach and worked at rapidly consuming my entire being. I felt like a fire was coursing though my veins changing me, yet destroying me.” He paused and closed his eyes. “I felt for the gash on my forehead, only to find that it was completely healed; as were the rest of my battle wounds from the earlier struggle. My surroundings were very gradually drifting into focus again, things being brighter and clearer than I had ever seen before even in the dark, unfamiliar enclosed space I was in.”

“It was a coffin where you were, wasn’t it?” I asked completely wrapped in the story.

He nodded “I was so terrified that I had been buried alive that for a moment I couldn’t breathe. I struggled against all of the walls that surrounded me until one gave way and I was finally free; sitting in a deep hole gazing up at the starry sky that surrounded Deirdre’s outstretched hand.”

He looked up at the angel’s hand as he continued with the story.

“I was extremely fortunate that in those days they didn’t bury the dead right away; they leave the graves open for the souls to escape an eternity of being trapped. I quickly made my escape of my earthen prison by scaling the walls surrounding me to collapse on the grass above in exhaustion. The smell of a freshly extinguished fire lingered in the air mixing with the odour of burnt flesh and hair, so I got up from my resting place to examine the site of the fire to find half of a skull intact that had long, needle-like teeth; it was my attacker who was now no more than charred dust on the wind.” He drew himself closer to me, taking my hand. I wanted to pull away, but I was frozen to the spot.

“I instinctually knew that there was something seriously wrong with me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I felt better than I had in ages, my wounds were healed, my heart was still beating frantically in my chest, so I knew I wasn’t dead; but even so I had to have been in that coffin for a reason. As I pondered this over I was hit by another overwhelming wave of nausea that forced me violently to the ground in pain. I’d pierced my cheek on the way down filling my mouth with the metallic liquid that I recalled from earlier; blood. The strangest part was that that quelled the violent pain in my stomach and seemed to satisfy an ongoing thirst I was suffering. I was left wanting more; I hungered for more! So I wandered the grounds in search of someone or something to fuel my existence. I found a groundskeeper wandering near the church, completely unaware that he was not alone in this late hour in the cemetery. I followed my instincts for obtaining the crimson nectar. I walked silently behind him and plunged my newly formed fangs into his throat, taking only what I thought I needed. Unfortunately what I took was far too much as the groundskeeper’s fragile existence slowly slipped away from under my grasp.”

I stared wide eyed in shock at his confession. “You’ve killed someone!” I nearly shrieked.

He looked ashamed. “That time it was an accident. I felt terrible afterwards about what I had done, and so I haven’t fed to kill ever since. But after that moment I had realized what had happened to me, and why I now was wandering the darkness in search of blood. I had become exactly like the fiend who had stolen my life from me; an unholy, unnatural being of the night.

I laughed at the hypocrisy of my existence, at how I was once in exactly the same position as this poor groundskeeper; only he was not going to rise from the grave as I had. I left his crumpled body on the steps of the sanctuary, and stole away into the night in search of shelter from the approaching dawn.”