Ascension Of Achille

At first there was nothing. But it soon appeared; a sensation, an awareness, like a little flicker of light against the vastness of darkness. Then it rose frantically, a colossal wave flared toward me, it reached me, washed over me and drowned me. But I did not die. Rather, it had awoken me, and though I was not able to move, my whole body responded to it. A multitude of cells reverberated in me, they jolted and pulsated robustly in violent surges and then they lunged and I felt a myriad of feeble jabs. My blood started to swell and verve and there was a peculiar warmth to it. It began at the apex of my toes; it climbed slowly upward along the heels, calves and it climbed even higher till it reached my waistline. The warmth abruptly grew into hideous boiling, a damp fire rushed hastily toward my heart. My awareness augmented and I felt the first stings of panic. My body was convulsing and my desire to move prevailed. I lurched my arms and legs, head swaying in agitated motions, my teeth desperately chattering, eyes shut. I let out a terrifying shriek. But then something odd happened. A small touch of cool skimmed across my forehead, it dissapeared but returned again. I loosed and parted my clasped lips and drew breath in sharply. Then something exceptionally cold grasped my hand and held it firmly. I jerked but welcomed it cordially. Something in me recognized and acted in response to that coolness. I could not think of what it was, but a thought had risen, in spite of my misery. It was obscure and incoherent in the beginning, untill it sprouted into a complete image a few excrutiating moments later. Bartholomew. He was sitting by the bedstead, holding my searing hands. In a dim glow of candlelight he seemed grim and somber. His long, russet hair was brushed back from the forehead and tied with a ribbon at the back of the neck, the dark grey frock-coat extravagantly embellished with three collars was splattered with desiccant globules of carmine blood, my blood. 

"We must wait untill it reaches the heart." the vampire warned me, I was desperately clasping his hands in response.

The fire moved again and ascended up to my fingertips, it flowed to the wrists and spilled itself into the veins. I wanted to scream but only a faint, half-choked cry escaped my mouth. 

"End this. End this. " I muttered under my breath.

"I told you, you will beg me to put you to death before this comes to an end." he said, his silvery voice ringing in the air, it bashed against my ears, rising and falling like a melody of a song. 

The room became awry, distorted, everything had lost it's shape. I could no longer hear the vampire, but I saw him standing, a living pillar of dark and light, the son of gods and demons. The whole cosmos gravitated toward a heart that was throbbing in anguish underneath my skin. A gush of blood poured over my sweltering lips, "Drink my friend, you must drink." Bartholomew murmured. I obeyed and I was no more.

A saporous, frore blood of the Sanguinarian was as the wine, cloying and luscious, leaving a taste of ripe, dark fruits in the mouth, a lush flowing poison, spun by gods and monsters.

It coursed tempestuously down the throat, drowning the violent current of fire which had consumed me. 

The burning was descending, dolor dissipated, my eyes opened. I was besieged by a downpour of colors. Bartholomew; a god, a demon, stood nearby, nearly resembling the creature I knew. His dark, russett hair adopted richer and marvelous hues of brown and red. Ivory of his skin no longer seemed pale, it emanated flamboyant tones of argent silver. 

"Rise, Achille. It is done." I heard him say.

He outstretched his hand toward me and I rose from the bed, the room around me drifted instantly. I moved, trying out the steps and the air moved with me; it danced and twisted and swirled endlessly.

My focus was abruptly drawn to something else entirely. A sound, a chatter coming from the street below. It was not like the vampire's voice, supple and songful, lavishing in it's intonations, fashioned to ensnare the prey.

An array of clamors, undertones, outcrys and laughter all unified in a discord, overwhelming my hearing.

Underneath the uproar and commotion came a flap, almost smothered by the ranting voices. It thrummed more fiercely as I approached the window. A beating of a single heart that spurred the thirst.