The City Doesn't Kill You

 That’s the thing about this city… When you awaken you never know what the city or the day has in store for you. You never know if a voyeur lurks, in the shadows, of the high rises that blanket the metropolis, and you don’t know which are out to get you. I’m a voyeur, but not a Peeping Tom, which gets his kicks, spying on beautiful women. Nope, I’m the kind that lays in wait, so I can swoop in vigilante-style and save the neck of some poor sap.

Trouble, with these saps, is they don’t believe supernatural beings are real...very real...and that one foot over the line, which separates the two worlds, has dire consequences. The direst, of all, is death and, let me tell you, it isn’t...pretty. You haven’t stared death in the face, until you seen a pack of werewolves tearing a man apart and then have them turn on you. I have been there and, no, it’s not something I hope to ever experience, again; That’s why I am so glad that I’m not mortal anymore.

I still have scars, from that vicious attack, but the fog, which covered my battered and bruised body, was somehow alive and had healing powers. It lifted me into the air, healed me, and transported me, to one who could give me immortality. Renanka, was the immortal’s name, and the fog was her doing. She was encased, in a statue, where a warlock entombed her, for all eternity, and no amount of trying, nor power, could, ever, free her.

My name was Marcus, but after Renanka made me Immortal, my gender changed. I don’t know how I feel about being made into a female. I had to change my name to Darion, which means ‘Silent One’. I think the name fits, as I was, now, charged with staying in the shadows and saving the pathetic lives of mortals. As I spy my next project, I smile in derision; Funny how becoming immortal gains a sardonic wit and delusions of grandeur. Perhaps the poor people, whom are in asylums, due to having such delusions, are immortals, which, just, haven’t realized what they are.

I creep along, following close behind the woman, which is about to be attacked, by a vampire, and notice another woman slowly creeping from the other direction. I cock my head, to the side, as I narrow my gaze and I see is holding a camcorder. I raise my eyes, back to the woman’s face decide, it’s a good thing I no longer have male genitalia, because walking, in these skin-tight, hip-hugger’s, would have very quickly become very intolerable.

The woman I’m following screams and I look her way. Fangs, bared, in an overly-handsome face, has me zipping forward, and I smash my fist into his gaping mawl. His fangs graze my fist, as it continues down his throat, punching a hole through his esophagus, wrapping itself around his heart. I yank the organ out. By the time I have his heart, in my hand, he’s down on his knees, eyes wide and pleading, for mercy, but I don’t give mercy to those that intend to hurt the innocent.

The woman cowers from me and I pick her up, with her kicking my shins and beating me on my back. I turn when I hear, yet, another terrified scream. In a flash, I’m standing between the woman that holds the camcorder and a man that is sprouting hair all over his body. I sigh and call the man by name.

“Jack, you don’t want to do this. Send your wolf back or I’ll have to do my job.”

Jack pauses, half in and half out, of werewolf form, and grins at me, with only part of his wolf persona showing. His voice is that, of his regular self, underlay with that of his wolf.

“Who are you to tell me what to do,” He growls menacingly.

“It’s Marcus, or rather was, but, now, I have to go by Darion.”

“There are many Marcuses in the world.”

“You only have one roommate, named Marcus, though.”

“Marky, where’ve you been? I was worried about you,” Jack begins shifting back into his normal self and the woman edges closer to my back.

“I had some trouble last night and since you didn’t meet me like you were supposed to, I nearly died. Some of your pals decided to try making a midnight snack outta me. I know they’re your pals, because I can smell ‘em on ya.”

“Hmmm…,” Jack sniffs his arm, wrinkles his nose. “So can I. I guess I need to take longer showers, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I say before adding, “Hey, Jack, if you must feed, then, how ‘bout feeding on criminals?”

I turn to the woman, behind me, and sling her over my other shoulder. She goes to scream, but ceases, when I tell her not to, unless she wants every supernatural predator, in this sector, of the city, finding us. I wish people wouldn’t make me talk, because, since the transformation, I sound like my voice is pre-pubescent, meaning I sounded like a girl when I was a boy. I’ve tried everything, even, hormone therapy, to sound manly again, but nothing has worked; The results are always the same, because it goes back after bout 5 minutes.

When I get to the bridge, which separates, the supernatural world, from the rest of the city, I set the two women on their feet. Again, as I look into the baby-blue eyes, of camcorder lady, I’m reminded, again, of how her beauty would have affected me, and I reach a hand out to cup her cheek. I run my thumb, tenderly, over her lower, quivering lip, and I can’t resist the urge to kiss her. I know my eyes are glassy, as I take my tongue from inside her sweet mouth, but I can still see how much her eyes have widened. She touches her lips, with trembling fingers, and steps backwards, as if, afraid I will try again.

“What did you kill my boyfriend for,” The other woman shrieks, taking me aback.

“What?”

“My boyfriend, why did you kill him!!!”

“Are you crazy,” I, and camcorder lady, ask in unison.

“B*tch, I am going to kill you; Mark my words. My child will kill you.”

“Uhmmm, if your pregnant, then your a slut,” Camcorder lady said in derision, “because Vampires cannot sire or have children. The only way a female Vampire can have children is if they were pregnant, when they were turned.”

“Yeah,” I added, for good measure, “If you got pregnant, by someone that looked like that Vampire, then it was his brother, and his twin was about to drink you dry. Nice family you got tangled up with there.”

I dodge the spiked heel, of the woman’s shoe, which was aimed right at my eye, and I knock it from her hand. Why do women think pulling hair is the way to fight? I am struggling to un-gnarl her hands from my hip-length hair, when camcorder lady grabs the woman’s hair.

“Let go, of her hair, right now, or I swear, by all of RuPaul’s wigs, that I will snatch the weave off your head!”

The fingers, in my hair, loosened their grip and she backs up, with her hands raised, like in a cop show.

“Ok, I let go, now, you let go,” Camcorder lady draws her backwards and hisses into her ear.

“If you try something, then I will...,” I heard the sound of a butterfly knife, swishing open, and I widen my eyes, “I will scalp you, before you can lay one hand on either of us. Do I make myself clear?” The woman’s eyes round, in fear; She nods, “Good, then get out of here and become the mother that your baby deserves.”

The woman doesn’t even turn around, as camcorder lady releases her, but runs, out of sight. How she can run that fast, with only one stiletto on, I haven’t a clue; I would have trouble just walking in them. I start laughing, as my rescuer looks at me, and I can’t believe her ploy works.

“That’s a pretty cool trick you have there, with that bracelet, making it sound like a butterfly knife. Where’d you learn that?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be my little secret, now, would it?”

“Hey,” I said, after she says thank you and tells me goodbye. She turns back and I say, “Thanks for helping me and I’m sorry for the kiss. I don’t know what came over me; I usually, don’t...do something like that.”

“It’s ok, but if we run into each other, again, don’t even think about trying a second time. The second time, I just might have a real knife, on me.”

“Thanks for the warning,” I chuckle, as she walks away.

Later, when dawn peeks over the horizon, I make my way back to the apartment, which I share, with Jack. I climb in the open window, while Jack enters via the door. We greet each other and crash on our respective beds. I boot up my laptop and begin typing out the notes, which I have to give my secret handler, which is so secret that no one, in the world, has ever seen the person; Nor have they heard of the society that protects all humankind.

“Nice little dishes tonight, Marky...Oh, right, Darion,” The latter was said with a slight sneer, which I chose to ignore. I, also, chose to ignore the way he’s ogling my body, as the wolf, in him, scented that my genetic makeup has changed. Jack’s wolf is a lot like Jack...always horny and hungry.

“You’re right about one of them, at least. The other wanted to give me a lobotomy, through my eye, with her stiletto.”

“Must have been the one that you planted that lip-lock on,” I narrow my brown gaze on him, “Hey, I wasn’t spying. I was on my way back through, when I saw you kiss her. I kept going, because I smelled a tasty morsel that had my name on it.” I don’t ask about the tasty morsel, because I would have shot a silver bullet, into the only friend that I have.

“Wrong!. The other one was angry I killed her vamp bf. She didn’t even know that her human boyfriend, whom had gotten her pregnant, had a vampire twin. I guess that’s how the vampire gets his marks; His brother lures them in, the vamp rushes them. Well, now, the mortal, of the twins, can play being something, other than his brother’s feeder.”

“Geez, here, I thought werewolves were, numero uno, the worst morally. Glad you got that one, because, Vamps aren’t bad, except the ones that prey on the innocent. I try to go, only, for the criminals.”

“Yeah, I know, but what happened with the second woman? If I hadn’t intervened, you would have ripped into her. What’s going on, with you, Man?”

“I don’t know,” Jack turns off his lamp, “there’s just something about her. One minute, I’m minding my own; I get this overwhelming urge. It draws me in, like a magnet, and I start morphing, without trying to. There’s something weird about that woman. I don’t think she’s, even, human, but haven’t a clue, as to what she is.”

I know what he means, because that’s what caused me to kiss her. Just thinking, of that kiss, has me feeling her lips against mine. This time, though, I feel her arms encircle my neck, and her hands are running through my hair. My eyes close and I jerk, when my head nods, and I am no longer, sitting on my bed.

‘You feel, so, good, in my arms,’...Did I just hear her in my head?...‘Don’t be alarmed, My Love, I have been waiting for you for a long time.’

I gaze, past her head, into a mirror, of shiny gold and the reflection, looking back at me, is the man I used to be. How is this possible?

‘I see the man you are.’ She says to my mind, her hands molding my arms, into the muscular forms they used to be. ‘Come, make love to me and let me make you feel like a man, again.”

I want it very much, but it’s just, too, weird, so I shove her away. Chains lash out, wrapping around my left wrist, and neck, trying to imprison me. I grab a metal candle holder, from a nearby vanity, and heave it. I don’t know how I know that breaking the mirror will break the spell, but it works, as the golden mirror shatters. My eyes fly open and I find I’m back in the apartment.

I roll my eyes, when I see that Jack is watching me like a hungry hawk, waiting for a chicken to come into view. His eyes glow like before he goes full-on wolf, and I tell him to stow it or I’ll make him sing a blood-curdling soprano. He tells me that if I don’t want his wolf to be turned on, then, I’ll have to not fondle my body and groan, with pleasure, when I fall asleep. I told him that he’s really making me want to get him some Hannibal Lechter sleep gear for Christmas, with chains that tether him to his side of the room. He laughs, as he crawls back into his bed.

I’m wide awake, so I get out my headphones, which I plug into the laptop. I cue up CNN and wait for the news program, which the society uses to pass me my nightly agendas. I am floored, when a familiar face and voice comes over the air. It is camcorder lady, whom I learn is, Treena Valentine, and she’s talking about the run-in that we had earlier tonight. I learn she’s a new CNN correspondent, which has been brought in to investigate the recent string of disappearances.

Luckily, I don’t need much sleep, being immortal and all, so I decide to take a stroll. I, unlike Vampires, am not a creature of the night, and can walk in the sunlight, without the aid of UV Ray blockers. Google shows me the way to CNN’s HQ and I wait, until I spot Treena exit the building, then I follow her. I notice that she senses that she’s being watched, but has no clue how to decipher the feeling, so she probably thinks she’s being paranoid. If she only knew.

I watch the elevator doors close, from where I’m hidden and once it comes back down, I ride it to the floor, which the number, over the elevator, indicates she got off at. I hold the elevator door open, as I peer around the frame, watching which door she stops at. After she unlocks the door and goes to enter, I hurry, quietly, to step in after her, catching her off guard.

“You, really, should be more careful.” She whirls around, scream forming on her lips, but I clamp a hand over her mouth, “Shhh...We don’t want to cause a scene, when there, really, isn’t a scene. Do we,” She shakes her head no and I release her mouth.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m, here, trying to figure you out. Why didn’t you tell me, last night, you were with CNN?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Ok, fair enough.”

“Anything else, you would like to know?”

“Yes, as a matter, of fact,” I sat on a sofa, by the door, “I would,” I motioned for her to sit and she sits, in the chair, opposite me, “You seem to be a Dream Walker.”

“What’s a Dream Walker?”

“A Dream Walker, when dreaming, can enter other people’s dreams, and you did that to me last night.”

“How did I do that to you?” Treena pulls her legs up, in front of her, and rests her chin, on her knees, “I hardly, ever, dream, and I didn’t dream last night. So, you have to be mistaken. However, let’s say I did… What happened in your dream?”

I told her the dream and her eyebrow quirks. She, then, sits cross-legged, leaning forward, at the waist, arms hanging limp, swinging, with her knuckles brushing the floor.

Hmmm…,” She kept cocking her head, this-way-and-that, making all kinds of facial expressions. “Not me; It’s my Too-many-Greats Grandmother, I bet.” I look, skeptically, at her, “Here, let me show you.”

Treena brings a photo album, from the dining room hutch, and shows me a drawing of the grandmother. The photo is the exact same, as what I saw in my dream, even down to the golden mirror.

“Her name was Renanka,” My head shoots up, “She disappeared and her family never found her. They figured she didn’t like being married, nor, being a mother. She left behind a husband, she had been wed to for one year and nine months, and a child that was that old, a daughter that never knew her mother. The story, and picture, has been passed down through the ages, as a way to preserve her memory and to aid us in finding out what became of her.”

“I never knew Renanka looked so beautiful.”

“You...knew her? How is that possible? You’re not that old.”

“You're right, I'm not,” It is then that I tell how I know Renanka and, in the dead of night, I take her to visit the statue where she’s entombed.

The two reunite, as Treena touches the statue, and there’s a burst, of energy, which cracks, the stone. The power of familial love was what it took to free Renanka or maybe it was love, in general. Renanka tries to win my love, but I have to tell her that I can never love her, because I’m in love with Treena.