Eternity
The night was her playground.
She watched as darkness rolled in, thick as a fog that enveloped the deep violet dusk. Shadows clawed eagerly for hidden recesses, consuming every hollow of twilight that dared to defy the dark's rule. For a moment, all remained clothed in a complete, endless night that seemed a beautiful vision to the immortal vampire.
It was hunting time.
The moon slowly reappeared, drifting out from its hiding place among hazy gods of the heavens, breaking the dreamlike state the total blackness held over the town. It gleamed blood-red, casting beams that illuminated pathways of mist across dirty alleyways. There was no sound except for the soft humming of streetlights, as one by one, they came alive. Everything was still, as if the night, holding its breath, waited in anticipation for her. For the one who walked and fed under the cover of shadows . . .
She was the Guardian, Miyu.
Miyu gazed down from her perch above the streets, golden eyes glowing in the soft light. With a silent gracefulness, she leaped down, her bare feet scarcely arousing dust upon impact of the earth. As a gentle breeze blew her white fuku in the chilly air, she turned to the sleeping town.
Everything's so quiet.
Miyu moved slowly down the gravel road. With each step, fog parted, billowing up around her. Manmade structures towered on either side, framing the narrow path. The Guardian paused as she brushed a strand of dark hair away from her pale face. Her bright eyes focused on the cracked walls that served as sanctuaries to the mortals. A slight smile spread across the vampire's lips.
Concrete. The humans feel safe behind it. As if its strength could protect them from the demons that plague their minds. Those who walk so dauntless in the day are nothing but cowards once darkness has pierced the night. They hide behind their walls and shrink away from our kind, never venturing out from their cages.
They are sheep. Miyu giggled. Let's see if one has strayed from the flock . . .
********************
Mayumi sat silently huddled against the cold wall as her puffy, red eyes stared blankly ahead. She felt as if she were dead. She only wished she was. Anything had to be better than the gnawing emptiness that devoured her soul. That steady, aching pain. Anything had to be better than feeling. Than remembering.
Papa . . . No!
She didn't want to remember. She didn't want to have the memories come back. But they did. They came as a dark, roaring wave, pounding through her skull. Overpowering her. The awful truths she longed to forget . . .
Mayumi remembered his promise after her mother died. Wrapped in his comforting strength, she had believed him. He said he'd never leave her. That he'd never make her cry. He'd be with her forever.
But they said he was sick. He wouldn't be there forever. Maybe a few years. They lied. They said he couldn't handle the loss of her mother. He died the next day. Of a broken heart.
Is this what it feels like, Papa? This hurt . . . this heartache.
Mayumi swore she'd never cry. She'd be strong for her papa. At his funeral, she watched as they lowered him into the ground, never to see light again. Never to see her again. Mayumi tried to hold in the tears, but she knew that she couldn't be strong. Not without him.
That night, Mayumi brought a lily to a fresh mound that lay in the shadows of the cemetery. It was his unmarked plot. And finally, when the pain was too much, she wept over her papa's grave.
The bitter tears had come ceaselessly for hours on end. They streamed down her dirt-streaked face, mixing with the earth as they fell quietly to the ground. It seemed as if it would never stop, the continuous flow of stinging sorrow. But finally, there was nothing left. Mayumi fell into a deep, troubled sleep, lying beside him on the ground.
When she had awoken suddenly, gasping for breath, a terrified feeling came over her. The nightmares were still there. The darkness tugged at the corners of her consciousness. She was drowning . . . drowning in a black sea of torment. She tried to break free, but the surface was always out of reach. Her lungs, begging for air, had finally given up, and she sank to the bottom of the deep. Powerless.
Mayumi found the memories filling her with rage. That horrible feeling of being trapped, unable to reach safety, never to be at peace, lingered in her mind. A sickening, acrid taste in her throat. The accusations burst forth, lashing out to the invisible force that held her back. The force that had drowned her.
Papa . . . It angered her even to think of him, the one that had betrayed her trust. You said you wouldn't die. You said you'd never leave me! You promised me! It's your fault I'm here now! Trapped. Drowning.
You lied to me, Papa. You lied like they do!
The power of the emotions that screamed to be let out, screamed to be heard . . . It exhilarated her. Mayumi was filled with strength to be free of the torment. She was finally able to say the unspoken things that had burdened her every waking thought.
"You're just like them," she whispered.
The moment the words left her, she regretted them. She wanted to escape from there, where her voice had forsaken her. Mayumi fled from the graveyard into the night. She ran as fast as she could, not caring where she went as long as it was away . . . from him.
She collapsed, too exhausted to move, in the alley where she sat now. Mayumi stared ahead at the filthy wall, begging silently for forgiveness. She thought that she couldn't cry anymore. She felt too empty. But the tears still came.
I'm sorry, Papa. I didn't mean it. But she did.
********************
It was the faint crying that finally drew the Guardian from her brooding. At first she wondered if it was real, that soft, sweet sound of mortal pain. Straining her senses, Miyu listened to the whispers in the air. They sang of a child.
At last.
Turning her head, Miyu looked to where the winds called her, careful not to lose their rustling voices. She walked slowly towards an ancient pine that arched into the air, twisted in the glow of the moon. It was strangely out of place, midst the buildings and sidewalks. As if it had come from another world. Miyu placed her small hands upon its rough bark, feeling the life that flowed through its trunk, seeping out into her fingers.
Beautiful One, why are you here? These ugly streets are not suited for your magnificence. Tell me, have you seen a child tonight? Wandering lost and alone . . .
There was no spoken answer from the majestic evergreen. It bowed in the passing breeze, knobby arms stretching forward. The branches pointed out the Guardian's path. Nodding her thanks, Miyu backed away. She looked down at the leaves that danced around her feet, beckoning to her. They rose up into the air, spinning as they summoned. She followed them further into the night.
As the whispers in the air were silenced by the dying wind, the dance ended. Miyu stepped lightly over the fallen leaves, peering into the depths of the alley where she had been led.
She is there. I can feel her sorrow.
The Guardian moved down the seemingly endless way, drawn by hunger for the sweet innocence that awaited her. Around her, the darkness closed in, threatening the half-mortal who dared to steal their prey. She shrugged the shadows away, knowing that they could do nothing to keep her from taking what she wanted.
Where are you, my little lamb? The one that bleats so . . . I will have you tonight, lamb. Miyu ran her tongue over her dry lips. There will be no more tears.
********************
A slight chill that ran up her spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck, brought Mayumi from her senseless state. She felt as if a pair of eyes bored into her, digging deep into her mind, exposing her fears. Her first instinct was to bury her head in her arms to hide from whatever was waiting for her. If she couldn't see it, then maybe it wasn't real.
It couldn't hurt her if it didn't exist.
Instead, Mayumi, swallowing her heart-pounding panic, looked out into the darkness. A white, shimmering figure loomed several feet away, its golden eyes focused on her. A lump rose in Mayumi's throat, silencing the would-be screams. She closed her eyes, praying that the demon was not real. Praying that it would go away. She didn't want to die.
"Please. Don't be afraid of me."
The voice was female, soft and childlike. Not at all like a monster's. Warily, Mayumi looked again. As her eyes focused, she could see that the 'monster' was a girl, not much older than she.
"Who . . . who are you?" Mayumi questioned, still not sure whether she was friend or foe.
"I am Miyu."
It was odd that this girl, Miyu, had appeared. Almost no one walked the streets at night. Those who did were often never seen again. "Why are you here?" Mayumi asked.
"I am like you . . . lost. Alone." Miyu took a step closer, smiling softly at the girl. "I have been looking for you, Mayumi."
When she heard her name, the chill returned. Again, she ignored her fear and the impulse to shrink away from Miyu. Somehow, Mayumi found the strength to stand up to face the taller girl.
"How did you know my name?"
"I know a lot about you," she whispered. "Your pain . . ."
Her voice was gentle, like music. It reminded Mayumi of leaves rustling in the wind. She felt her last bit of uncertainty drain away as it was replaced by curiosity. As if in a daze, she moved towards Miyu.
"Papa . . . ?"
"Yes. I know of him. He left you, didn't he?"
"He promised me he would never leave."
Mayumi felt sluggish now. She tried to think clearly, but her mind was clouding over. Darkness around her faded as it was replaced by a shattered, twisted world. The land around her was barren, save for the thorny trees that surged from the ground, snaking up to the stormy, red sky. But all Mayumi saw was Miyu. Her glowing eyes . . .
"But he lied. He broke his promise." Miyu reached out her slender arms and cupped the girls face in her hands. "I would never break my promise."
Mayumi felt lost again . . . helpless. She could not look away from those golden eyes. They pulled on her mind, beckoning her to come to them. The world once again faded away, only this time it was replaced by a vision of her home. Images of people flashed before her. Her mother. Her papa . . .
"I could give them back to you. You won't be alone anymore." Miyu drew the small girl closer until she was just inches away. "You can be happy again. All I want is your blood."
It was like she was drowning. Nothing made sense. Mayumi knew that she was trapped. She struggled to break free, but like in her dream she couldn't. And, like in her dream, she would die. But Mayumi was not afraid.
My blood. Papa . . . I want you back. With my blood.
"Any dream you desire. For eternity," the voice whispered. "Do we have a deal?"
Mayumi could feel herself nod. She was enveloped in nothingness now. She was alone in a timeless existence that did not exist. A prickling sensation traveled from her neck through her body, a flowing warmth that almost seemed to encircle her. There was nothing, and then . . .
Papa . . .
*********************
Miyu wrapped her arms around the girl as she bent her head forward. Mayumi gasped slightly when she the fangs pierced her neck, but she did not struggle. The vampire drank deeply the warm blood that flowed from the wound. She was careful not to let a drop escape her open lips.
Finally, she drew away from the lifeless figure. The Guardian watched as the small body crumpled to the ground. Mayumi's hair was spread around her head and her blank eyes stared up, seeing nothing. Her expression was serene, almost happy.
The Guardian walked away from the peaceful corpse, leaving it lying in shadows. The sun was almost dawning and the darkness would soon be replaced by the glow of the heavens. It was no longer her world, but those of the mortals she both protected and fed on.
Let them have the day. It is time to go home.
Miyu wiped away a trickle of blood that had seeped from the corner of her mouth. She smiled. As she reached the outskirts of the city, she turned back. Until night when you are mine again, she promised. Sweet dreams.
*********************
Larva stood watching the sun rise over the town from the rooftop of an abandoned building, just outside the city limits. A long, black cape flowed over his body, covering everything but his face. That too was hidden, behind a mask. Below him, a small, pink creature crouched, its nose twitching as it sniffed the air. They were waiting for Miyu.
"She has not returned from her hunting," Shiina said in a high, whiney voice.
Larva looked down at his furry companion. "She will be here soon."
Miyu appeared then, as if affirming what her servant said. She walked slowly across the open field, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her neck. When she finally joined them on the roof, she sat beside Larva, leaning her head against his leg.
"I am weak, Larva . . ." Her voice faltered.
"You just fed." Larva kneeled down beside Miyu, allowing the vampire to nestle closer to him. He was not fooled by her deceiving frailness. He had seen her eyes when she approached him. They were fiery, more alive than they had been the night before.
"A child."
"Her blood was too thin?"
"No." Miyu closed her eyes, gleefully remembering the feeling of the blood washing down her throat. It still flowed within her, filling her veins. "Her blood was thick and pure." She opened her eyes again. "It wasn't enough."
"You were not satisfied."
"She was . . . sweet. I yearned for her, Larva. To taste her innocence. I wanted to make her one of us. A child of the night."
"But you did not."
"No. She would have suffered."
"And now?" Larva looked away from the Guardian and he once again turned his attention to the city.
Miyu followed his gaze. She envisioned the little girl lying upon the dirty ground. That peaceful look . . . Someone would find and identify the body. They would have her buried beside her father.
"She dreams. It was her wish."
Something was wrong. Larva could sense that Miyu was restless. "You are troubled."
"Larva, what is it that humans want?" she asked.
"I do not know," he replied. "I am not human."
"Is eternity really what they wish for? The dreams . . . They are only illusions."
"To them, everything is an illusion, Miyu. They are blind to truth. They do not see us in the shadows. Watching. Waiting."
Miyu sighed. "Is it that they do not see us, or that they choose to forget? Is it not human nature to forget? The world that they believe in, the one that is free from the shadows . . . Is it because they have forgotten what lurks in the darkness?"
"They have not forgotten everything."
"Yes," the Guardian agreed. "They remember fear and what the light does not touch. The demons. They do not understand, and so they are afraid. It is that fear that traps them. They are bound to the light."
"But the darkness does not hold us captive, Miyu."
"No." Miyu looked up to her servant, her companion, and her friend. Larva was masked to the world, but he did not hide from her. He belonged to her. "Not you or I. We are different."
Larva reached out and stroked the vampire's cheek with his long, bony fingers. "We are one, Miyu. Bound only to each other."
"Yes." Miyu sighed contentedly as she reached up to Larva. Her Larva. They would be together forever. "I still hunger, Larva."
"It is not blood you hunger for."
"Perhaps. . . "
Miyu's thoughts were interrupted when Shiina leaped up onto her shoulder. She petted her little friend and Shiina snuggled against the back of her neck, tickling her. The vampire giggled.
"Miyu?" Shiina asked.
"Hm?"
"What is it that you hunger for?"
"It is the vampire's nature to feed upon humans," she replied. "I hunger for their blood as they do for my dreams."
"Well, what is your dream?"
"My dream? I do not have time for such things. I am the Guardian, the one who must seal the shinma to the dark. That is my life and my destiny. Forever."
"Oh." Shiina hopped off of Miyu's shoulder and instead made herself comfortable in her lap. "But what if the time comes when the shinma no longer walk the earth? What would you do then?"
"I don't know." Miyu closed her eyes and remembered another time. Before she was the Guardian. "I think I would grow weary of this world. This existence. Perhaps I would search for what the humans do. Through illusions . . ."
"What is that?"
"Eternity."