Meng

Only Meng’s symbionts knew he was a jiangshi. In Europe, they called his kind vampires. But the people of Africa were more accurate in their belief systems about soul-eaters.

Meng’s kind called themselves Eions. He hadn’t seen another Eion since he was a child and accidentally fell through his family’s portal while playing hide and seek with his cousins. That had been almost a thousand human-years ago, and although he’d tried to go back through the portal on countless occasions, it had always been locked.

Anyhow, Meng had lived in China for so long that he considered his symbionts his family. Every time one of them had died of old-age or a terrible accident which their well-earned healing capabilities could not heal, his heart had shattered. But that was the drawback of being a human: unlike Eions, they could not be immortal. In the past, he had given little thought when choosing his symbionts. He had been hungry, so anyone who would let him eat deserved to gain power for their agreement.

By 1920, Meng had been more strategic about his choice of symbionts. With the Kuomintang coming into power, he had settled in Nanjing. Between 1920 and 1930, Nanjing was the capital of the Republic of China and a centre of political power in East Asia. It was a time known as the “Golden Decade,” a period of relative stability and prosperity in China.

During 1920, Meng made certain to choose young adults from prestigious Kuomintang families and amassed a vast collection of a hundred elite symbionts. He was proud of them, and they were proud of him. With his symbionts’ permission, he would drink the blood of the most terrible people, not worthy of sub-souls across the ten parallel universes of the Etherweb.

In return for his symbionts’ acceptance, each of them could live up to three-hundred years, possess amazing healing capabilities, age slowly, and even inherit etheric powers such as super-strength, invisibility, and flight.

Meng’s a hundred elites were the wealthiest and most influential citizens of the city. They were captains of industry, high-ranking government officials, and prominent members of the community. They lived in sprawling mansions, surrounded by the finest luxuries and comforts that only money could buy.

Meng’s symbionts were known for their extravagant lifestyles and their lavish parties. They would host elaborate gatherings that lasted for days on end, with musicians and dancers from all over China.

In 1937, the Japanese invaded Nanjing when the Second Sino-Japanese War was in full swing. The city of Nanjing was under siege. Meng and his symbionts were terrified, but did not know what horrors awaited them.

As the Japanese army entered the city, they shot and killed civilians at random, and many were rounded up and taken to concentration camps. The Japanese soldiers showed no mercy, and the people of Nanjing were helpless to stop them. On December 13th, 1937, the Japanese army began a systematic campaign of rape, torture, and murder. Women were gang-raped and then killed, men were shot in sight, and children were bayoneted or thrown into rivers.

The streets of Nanjing were littered with bodies, and the stench of death hung heavy in the air. The Japanese soldiers showed no remorse, and in fact, seemed to take pleasure in their gruesome work.

As the days went on, the massacre continued. The Japanese soldiers torched homes and buildings, and many civilians were burned alive. The Nanjing Massacre’s death toll ranged from 200,000 to 300,000 people.

Meng’s beloved collection of symbionts was destroyed. Some of them might have survived had they flown away. His symbionts sacrificed themselves while trying to rescue their families and loved ones. They and Meng fought well, but it was not enough.

Despite the horror and suffering they endured, the survivors of Nanjing did not lose hope. They banded together to care for the wounded and bury the dead. The Chinese government and the international community took notice, and the Nanjing Massacre became a rallying cry for the anti-Japanese resistance.

Unlike those strong-willed peasants and farmers, Meng could not endure. How could humans be so cruel to one another? Meng was heartbroken. He had lost everything that was dear to him—his friends, his companions, and his reason for living. He was left with a profound sense of grief and loneliness that he had never experienced before.

For years, Meng wandered the countryside, searching for new symbionts to replace the ones he had lost. But he found none that could match the bond he had shared with his previous friends. He was haunted by memories of the past, and he longed for the companionship he had lost.

Meng became withdrawn and bitter, and he resented the humans he once fed upon. He saw them as weak and helpless, and he grew to despise their vulnerability. He became an outcast, feared and reviled. There were no Eions, or they were hiding from him when he searched for them.

As Meng turned his back on the world, he could not forget the loss he had suffered. He would often dream of his old symbionts and wake with tears in his eyes. He longed for the days when he had a purpose, when he had a reason to exist.

In the end, Meng realised he could never replace the symbionts he had lost. They had been more than just friends - they had been a part of him. And without them, he was incomplete.

Meng’s heartache was a testament to the power of friendship and the depth of loss. He had experienced the worst of humanity, and he had lost everything he had ever cared about. He wanted to live no longer. Meng wanted to die. But through eating so many souls, he had added hundreds of thousands of years to his life. Even if he stopped eating, he would survive for too long.

In the year 1999, just two days before the Chinese Winter Solstice Festival, Meng returned to Nanjing. He sat beside the Qin Hui River. Although the river had changed shape, he knew by talking to the earth and the wind where the portal had been in which he’d fallen through over seven hundred years ago.

For a fleeting moment, a light appeared. It levitated just inches above the water’s surface. Hope filled Meng’s heart as he waded through the freezing water and was sucked into space. He floated amongst the stars for a few minutes, then landed back in his parent’s garden.

His family still lived in the same house. They were amazed he had returned, but disappointed the portal had locked once again. They told him they had not eaten souls for seven hundred human years—sixty Eion years. All the portals on their planet, Vhaggen, had been locked, and all the Eions had to live on the years they’d amassed. But Ming didn’t care. He was pleased he was back home with his family.

The End