Veckah's Tales

D'ahila's Arrival in Boston

She stands in the parking lot of Dr. Charter's offices, looking at the building through narrowed eyes as she chews on a fingernail.

"Find your uncle," her mother had said. "Find him and tell him what has happened, he will be able to protect you at least". Then she had died, just like that, no fanfare, no 'I love you' just find your uncle. After that she had spent a month, alone, in the ruins of her grandfather's castle digging through the ruined library trying to find some clue as to where to even start looking for this uncle her mother had entrusted her to. She had lived on the blood of rats and lizards, never once speaking with or even seeing another living soul. By the time she found what she was looking for she had been half mad and near starving, but that hadn't stopped her from carrying on that very night.

The mage she found to send her through time and planes of existence wanted some rather odd things from her in payment. The night she spent in his bed, with him grunting and groaning over her like a dying steer while he kept trying to shove his non-erect penis into her was uncomfortable, but, in the end, worth it she supposed. After all, he had not been lying when he said he could get her to where she needed to go.

Once she made it to this place she had to learn how to fit in. THAT had been a challenge. Nothing in this filthy city was like home. People were rude, and rather stupid. Most were not willing to help someone they didn't know, at least not without payment of some kind. That is unless you were willing to submit yourself to the horrors of the so called charity originations that were more about keeping people in poverty and need then teaching them how to be self-sufficient and contributing members of society. In the end it was the street people, pimps, whores and homeless, that helped her, taught her how to live here and make enough of the local currency to be able to move about freely.

Two years her journey had taken her. Two years of a life set out in the world far too soon, and it all ended here. Her uncle was gone, lost once more to the magic streams that ran between worlds and time. Gone to who knew where, leaving D'ahila standing in a parking lot, in the middle of the night, alone once again.

Ebony's Letter to Tawny

Tawny: *He wasn't expecting anyone, so when the doorbell rang he raised a brow in question. Phalen was out with the rest of the group, so unless his son had forgotten his key, he doubted it was any of the kids. He answered the door, a questioning greeting already on his lips, where it died when he saw who was standing on the other side.* Yen? *He smiled, not seeing the look on his friend's face* Why didn't you call? I would have picked you up at the airport. *He ushered Yen in, finally noticing the obvious distress on his face* Yen? What's wrong?

Yen: *He let Tawny lead him into the posh apartment, listening to him prattle. He felt physically ill, knowing the pain his visit would cause. When Tawn asked him what was wrong he sighed and pulled his friend down with him to sit on the couch. Once they were sitting he didn't let go of Tawny's hands as he spoke* I didn't call because I needed the time in a cab to try and figure out what I was going to say, how I was going to say it. *He offered a sad chuckle* It didn't help, I still have no idea. *He released Tawn's hands and reached into a pocket. He pulled out a folded up envelope and after a moment's thoughtful hesitation held it out to Tawny*

Tawny: Yen I... *He looked at the envelope and took it. He looked at his friend, who slowly nodded, then removed the letter. He instantly recognized the handwriting and anger born of pain flared in his chest, stopping his breath for a moment, Ebony. His wayward husband's normally messy script was worse than he remembered, but it was his non-the-less.* What the fuck Yen? Why would you come all this way to giv...

Yen: *He put a hand on Tawny's cheek, soothing him like a frightened colt* Tawn, read the letter, just read it and you'll understand. *His voice was soft, but firm* Then we will talk. *He let his hand drop and pointed to the papers in Tawn's hand* Read it.

Tawny: *He rolled his eyes and sighed. Finally, after a few heavy moments he snapped the pages tight and started to read*

ZZ,

I'm sure you are wondering why the hell I am writing you. To be perfectly honest, it is because I think you may be the last person I can write to that won't just tear the envelope up without reading it, and I need to let people know some of what has gone on. I owe everyone at least that much.

First off, nothing in this letter is an excuse because there can't be any of those now. Everything that I have done I've done for a reason, and while I may regret how my choices affected those that I love, I did what I thought I had to do. So, no excuses, just explanations.

I think everyone knows why I asked Dylan to turn me. The cancer had gotten so out of control by the time we found it that there was nothing the doctors could have done for me. I was going to die and there was nothing to be done about it, but I wouldn't accept it. I begged Dylan to turn me, knowing he was too young. He agreed like I knew he would.

What I don't think anyone but Dylan and I know is how wrong the turning went. I don't know if it was because Dylan was so young, because of what Thanatos did to us, something in me alone, or hell any combination of the above, but the turning wasn't clean. The pain was horrific, like being torn apart one molecule at a time, and it wasn't just me, Dylan was affected too, both of us writhing and screaming while the change tore through us, ripping us apart and slamming us back together as something new, something different, something not right.

We spent days buried in the ground trying to recover. I came out of the earth confused and lost, not knowing exactly who or where I was. The only thing I was positive of was I was starving and had to end my hunger. Yes I know, typical vampire turning story, we have all heard it a million times. However, my first meal, and every meal since, was anything but typical. You see it isn't normal, human blood I craved, but the blood of the sick, tainted, weak and dying. I thirsted for those like me, junkies close to their last fix, people so riddled with cancer or AIDS they have very little time left. Even among the monsters I am a monster, because I go after those that can't fight back.

I can taste sickness on my tongue even before someone knows they are ill. I stalked a man for weeks, letting the stomach cancer, he didn't know he had, grow and ripen in him like a plumb. I took his life the night before he was going to start chemo treatments that would have given him hope, but not time.

The first horror of my existence: I know when someone is going to die from the illness in their bodies. From the moment I've tasted the tiniest hint of sickness, I know if that person can be cured or if the taint will eventually take their lives. I thought at first this would be a blessing, a way to help those that would suffer by ending their lives before they realized that their body had betrayed them, but I quickly learned how very wrong I was. If I drink from someone who is not already near death, my body violently rejects the feeding, sending me into a type of shock. I am left exposed and helpless. Dylan saved me several times before I figured it out. This knowledge is invaluable to my hunting, but I can''t turn it off, it is constantly there, even when I don't want it to be, even when I am with people I know and love. Tran is dying, she has less than a year left. The brain tumor is inoperable. Yes she knows, no don't let her know you do because she won't understand. She hasn't told anyone, and probably won't, and knowing this is tearing me apart. I refuse to be around anyone I love because I don't want to know if they are sick. Selfish yes, but the truth.

The second horror of my existence: I die the death of those I feed from. I don't know if I absorb the sickness and it has to run its course or if it is just a weird and horrific side effect of my diet, but I suffer all the suffering my victim would have suffered had I not taken their life. In the days after I feed I revert back to a mortal state and the illness has its way with me. No vampiric powers protect me from the pain of death, I puke and shit and suffocate and waste away just like any mortal would and at the end I die. Life leaves my body and a corpse is left behind. I have woken up three times in the mourgue. I think this is what drove Dylan home and away from me. The first time I died was rather horrifying. So much so I won't tell you the story, it is best if it stays between Dylan and I.

The third horror of my existence: I look like an AIDS patient that has cancer. The illnesses and the deaths have taken their toll on my body. My hair has fallen out. The last time I was on a scale I weighed seventy-five pounds. My skin is near translucent and my eyes constantly look feverish. If you saw me on the street you would stay as far away from me as possible, because you wouldn't want to catch what I so obviously have. This goes beyond vanity. People are afraid of me, I have been called walking death on more than one occasion.

So, I'm sure you are wondering why I am telling you all this, why I even wrote this letter at all. As I said in the beginning, it is an explanation of why I have not gone home. I refuse to put Tawny and Phelan through this. I will not let my husband and son watch me die over and over again. I refuse to have to carry the burden of knowing if someone I love is ill and near death. I can't have friends and strangers avoiding my family because of me. I can't have Dylan constantly reminded that he was the one that brought me over to this life. I will NOT burden you all more than I already have in this life, and in the end, I can't take any more.

ZZ I need you to do me a favor. It is huge and I am a coward for even asking you, but it needs to happen so Tawny will get the inheritance and insurance money. I need you to find my body. I can't take this anymore. Being apart from everyone, not able to go home but not able to move forward, I'm done. Call me a coward, or weak, but it is what it is. I don't care how you find me, either do it yourself, or call the authorities, however you need to do it. I will send you the place I will end my life when I am going to do it that way you don't try to find me before, I know how you are. This is what I want, Tawny and Phelan deserve to be able to move on with their lives, I want to give them their closure. I love you all, despite what you may think. Tell Tawny I'm sorry I couldn't be what he deserved.

I know I am leaving questions, and I'm sorry I just don't have the answers to give. Be well, and try to remember me in a good light.

Goodbye,
Ebony

Tawny: *He read the letter again, then a third time before folding it neatly back up, placing it back in the envelope, and then tossing the envelope casually onto the coffee table. When he finally looked at Yen, meeting his friend's worried eyes with his own calm ones, a small smile played along his lips* Has ZZ gotten the letter telling him where to pick up Eb's body? *Without waiting for an answer, he nodded slowly* Yea, he has or you wouldn't be here with this. *He started to get up from the couch.* Tea or beer? *He asked as he moved toward the kitchen.*