Sacrum - 17. Chapter 17: Rebirth

Every day the Specials Summit loomed over me more oppressively, until I felt I was on the verge of something like a panic attack. I was no closer to figuring out my gift than before, meanwhile everyone else around me thrived. As much as I respected Vinicius, I was also slowly starting to resent him. Why did he leave me alone like this, unable to use the only thing that I had to protect me and those around me?

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,” I heard the murmur coming from the room next door. Almost like some sort of chant. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.” Was Demetrius counting sheep in order to fall asleep? The image in my head of the serious-faced vampire dreaming up friendly little sheep skipping over a fence in order to fall asleep made me chuckle. Then the question presented itself to me, why was I so interested in everything he was doing? “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.” I considered banging on the wall to shut him up, but that wouldn’t be very neighborly of me at all. And at any rate, it was better to hear him innocently count, than to listen to his screams of agony. I decided I could no longer be annoyed by the cryptic dreams I was prone to having, as they sure beat the hell out of whatever nightmares Demetrius dreamt about.

The chanting next door continued, but I chose to let it slide. It’s not like I could sleep much either these days anyway, and I certainly didn’t want to have another unfriendly run-in with the vampire who carried the gift of pain.

I turned on my light and fished out my dream notebook, where I had tucked in the letter I found in Eric Van Sant’s pocket. I took it out and reread it, and suddenly something struck me as odd. I thought about my mentor, the vampire I thought I knew better than anyone else in the world. I’d gotten letters from Vinicius plenty of times when he was away from the Academy and traveling. Most of the time they were quite long, eloquent, and beautifully written. What I found in Eric Van Sant’s pocket wasn’t a letter, it was a message.

My eyes scanned the note over and over again. What did it all mean? Then I took the first word of every sentence, “Remember, Everything, Before, Inside, Rebels, To, Home.” I separated it by the first letter, and there it was, staring me right in the face once again. The mysterious word.

REBIRTH.

I had said it in my own dream while speaking to Vincent, and I had seen it written on the wall behind Van Sant’s slain body. It meant something significant, especially if Vinicius thought it was important enough to loosely code it into one of his letters.

I was sure that Vincent knew the meaning behind the word. His eyes were glued to the wall when he saw what was written on it. Why wouldn’t he just tell me? And why did he seem afraid of it, whatever it was? And if Melinda Moretti was right, and the message was for me, then how come I had no clue what it meant? It made no sense to send someone a message about something they were completely clueless too. Unless the murderer didn’t think I was clueless. Perhaps, whoever killed Vinicius and Eric Van Sant held some type of grudge for me as well. Was I next on their list? If they were able to get to Vinicius, I certainly didn’t stand a chance. Unless I got my head together and figured out how to use my powers. But that was one big if.

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.” Unable to listen to the murmurs coming from next door any longer, I got up and got dressed for the day.

I meandered through the empty hallways and decided to head towards the cafeteria. Everyone else was still asleep, and they had every reason to be. They had the comfort of knowing that they were prepared for what was coming. I was the only one up and about, trying to work through my anxiety and all the uncertainty I felt regarding my situation.

I sat at one of the tables and started reading through the pages of my notebook once again. If a sane person ever accidentally looked at my scribbles, they would probably conclude that I was insane.

Maurizia, Antoine, and Luciana joined me eventually, and I put my notebook away.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting more and more anxious as the Summit approaches,” Antoine confessed, fiddling with his fingers. “I guess it’s a good type of anxious. I just can’t wait to see what’s going to happen, and what they have in store for us after graduation.”

Luciana didn’t share his enthusiasm. Her judgmental eyes zoned in on Antoine as she spoke.

“You act like our lives are going to be super exciting. If you haven’t noticed, the Carandini’s have all been butchered years ago, except for a select few. And it’s not like the State is at threat from anyone with any actual power. So what is it that you think we’re going to be doing day in and day out? We’ll probably be useless little figureheads for the State to parade around, giving stupid speeches at schools and wasting away at State banquets.”

I considered her statement. She wasn’t exactly wrong. It’s not like there was any type of war going on, making us necessary for the government’s survival. At the same time, the prophecy and Vinicius’ note, along with everything else that had been going on, seemed to spell trouble ahead. There was something brewing, something lurking out there, like Eric Van Sant had said.

“Don’t despair,” Maurizia replied. “Whatever we’ll be doing, I just hope we’re going to be in it together. It’s just the five of us. I think it would be wise for us to stick together, no matter what.” I nodded my head. Luciana didn’t seem convinced.

Later that day I separated myself from the others and made my way to the lodge in the woods in order to practice, or at least come up with some sort of strategy. I needed to be alone and figure out how I was going to get through the Specials Summit without fumbling everything. I thought about going to see Trusting and telling her that I couldn’t participate because I had nothing to show for my talent. How was I going to face the State officials and give them absolutely nothing to go on?

It was pouring cats and dogs outside and I was soaked by the time I made it to the little hut. I took off my jacket and sat down on the old cot, fiddling with a stack of cards Vincent left behind. I wondered what he was doing, and whether he enjoyed spending time with his mother. I hoped that he was safe, and that Arani Deadnus wasn’t obsessively stalking his every move now that he was outside of the school’s walls and away from Trusting’s protection.

I pondered the new revelations about him being Maratoni’s favorite and what it all meant. They were planning something the day of the Summit. They knew that The American Protection League and government officials would be preoccupied with the Specials that day.

Suddenly the sound of a snapping tree branch nearby woke me up from my thoughts. It was followed by footsteps headed right towards the lodge—right towards me.

I looked around. I had no weapons. If the killer that found Vinicius and Van Sant was here, I stood no chance.

The door opened and my fears turned out to be unfounded.

It was Demetrius.

“How do you know about this place, did you follow me?” I asked and noted the flash of irritation that flickered in his eyes.

“Once again newbie, you forgot I was here way before you. The only reason you know about this place is because I found it, and I showed it to Vincent,” he replied smugly.

“Oh,” was my only comeback. He fiddled with his pockets for a moment.

“I can go, if you’d rather be alone,” he offered, and I was touched by the sentiment.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not accomplishing anything out here on my own anyway,” I confessed, and added, “Why don’t we play a board game?”

“Sure,” he replied, sitting down across from me as I grabbed a random box from the stack. I happened to pick “Sorry,” a childhood favorite of mine. Maybe I’d finally be able to beat Demetrius at something.

“I pick green,” I called. He looked at me slightly bewildered. “Have you never played before?” I asked, catching on.

“No,” he replied.

“They didn’t have board games in Russia?” I teased.

“Not stupid ones. I play chess,” he huffed, his ego hurt. I concealed a smile.

“First, you pick a color. The goal of the game is to get all your pawns around the board and into their home space first. So, which color?”

“Red,” he replied.

“Okay, now we put the deck of cards in the center. I will draw one card and turn it face up. If I get a 1 or 2, I can move the first pawn out of the start space and onto the board. If I draw a ‘sorry’ card, I can replace one of your pawns on the board, with one of the pawns in my home space, and your pawn goes back to your start space.” We started playing, and I continued to explain the rules as we went along. Thankfully, Demetrius was a fast learner. No wonder he had mastered his gift so fast, I thought.

“What’s everyone else doing?” I asked when it was his turn.

“Same thing they’ve been doing for hours. Talking about the Summit,” he replied in a grim tone.

“And you’re tired of hearing about it, I take,” I said.

“Aren’t you?” He asked, moving one of his pawns and raising his guarded brown eyes to meet mine.

“It is kind of a big deal,” I said.

“It’s just a stupid test. You either pass or you don’t. Talking about it won’t change the results.” I pursed my lips. It was easy for him to say. He’d pass the damn thing with flying colors.

“You and I both know that I won’t,” I said, deciding to put it all out on the table. He looked momentarily taken aback by my candidness but stayed quiet. “How was Russia anyway?” I asked, picking a card and changing the subject. Like Demetrius said, dwelling on the Summit wouldn’t change anything at this point.

“Dark, rainy, and glum,” he confessed, gently scratching the side of his face as he pondered the board. “There were very many good people there though. Kindhearted and genuine, you know,” he reminisced.

“You ever think about going back?”

“Eventually, yes. I have some amends to make before…well, nevermind,” he stumbled on his words, and seemed to be frustrated with himself. I decided not to push for answers.

“I heard you counting this morning,” I confessed. His eyes shot back up to mine again, as if he was checking to see something.

“Those walls really are paper thin, huh,” he mused after a while. At least he didn’t seem angry this time.

“That and you have a pretty deep voice. It carries,” I said, and he snickered.

“Maybe you need to stop spying on me,” he replied, picking a card. But his mood had shifted back to a happy state, and he half smiled.

“You’re hilarious. You should do stand-up or something,” I joked. His lip twitched yet again. Maybe I was finally starting to get on his good side.

“What was the Valentini Academy like?” He inquired, then watched me carefully as I spoke.

“Calm, peaceful, and very green. Vinicius had a huge indoor and outdoor garden. We’d spend a lot of time just checking on the plants and talking about anything and everything. Then I’d hang out with my friends and play silly games. It was a fairly easy and non-stressful existence,” I admitted.

“And then you came here, and everything changed,” he finished for me. I nodded. “That sounds nice. At least you’ve got those happy memories to look back on,” he pointed out, and I nodded once again.

“So how did you get so good at basketball?” I asked. Demetrius shrugged.

“I’m okay at it, I’ve had a lot of practice. You have to alter your movement a lot. It’s all about creating those few inches of space to get a good shot,” he explained bashfully.

“I saw you out there, you’re more than just okay. And I bet you’re going to ace the Summit as well,” I stated.

“Don’t start that again,” he groaned, not wanting to talk about the same subject. But I couldn’t help it, just like the other Specials, it was all I could think about nowadays.

“Sorry but what if Arani Deadnus decides to just…execute me because I can’t perform?” He looked it my eyes to check if I was serious. When he saw that I was, he pressed his lips together in order not to laugh.

“In case you haven’t noticed, we live in a democracy and not a dictatorship. Arani Deadnus doesn’t have the power to just execute you because you don’t perform on demand,” he replied after a while.

“Easy for you to say, you know exactly what you’re doing. I’m going to look like a complete idiot out there.”

“You want to know what your problem is?” He asked in a serious tone, putting his pawn down.

“What’s my problem?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you have no confidence. You walk around here like a lost puppy or an orphaned child—with no sense of purpose or direction. You compare yourself to others and come up short in a hundred different ways. The gift cannot work properly if the host can’t control his emotions,” he stated, as if he was giving me the recipe for banana bread and not tearing my character into a million tiny little shreds. I waited for a second, trying to mentally recover from the verbal lashing. Then I swallowed down my humiliation without saying a word, got up, and walked out of the small hut, slamming the door in his face and going back out into the pouring rain.

It felt like Demetrius confirmed all of my worst fears with his harsh words. Because in fact my emotions were all over the place, and apparently everyone around me could see just how lost and confused I really was inside.

I sloshed through the rain feeling embarrassed to my core, and then suddenly I felt his hand on my arm. He swiftly turned me around to face him.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he said matter of fact, only enraging me further. His face glistened with the pouring rain.

“Thanks, captain obvious,” I replied annoyed. He got even closer to me and for a moment I worried that I overstepped, and he was about to knock me out cold via a good old-fashioned punch to the face.

“It comes from right here,” he said, firmly placing his large but tender hand over my lower abdomen and sending shivers through my entire body. His touch felt like electricity—in a strangely pleasant way. “And then it floats all the way up to your sternum,” he continued, dragging his hand up to the middle of my chest and sending more pleasant shockwaves through my bones, “Only then it can be released.” I stood there, not being able to move. “You’re trying to use your brain to make it happen, but that’s not where energy resides. You can feel it stirring deep within you when you focus,” he told me. “Take a deep breath, and feel it build.” I didn’t know if I should run away or stay and continue being humiliated. But I decided to stay and do as he told me.

I took a deep breath while looking into his deep brown eyes.

“Now focus on what you really want,” he said, “and let everything else fall to the side. Focus on one emotion only.” The rain pouring over his perfect features as he spoke felt strangely intimate. Almost as if we were two lovers standing across from each other and having a private conversation while taking a shower together. I wanted time to slow down, so that I could take in every single second and see him just as he appeared right at that very moment.

Then it happened. Every cell in my body suddenly felt invigorated. I could feel, really feel, the energy pulsing through me like a current. I smiled in surprise, and Demetrius nodded.

“Let it float up all the way to your chest, then release when you’re ready,” he said. Almost as if he was guiding me, I could feel the energy sending sparks all the way up to my chest, in the most pleasant and overwhelming of sensations. I imagined that crying from happiness would feel exactly the same.

His face was all that I could see.

And then suddenly the rain around us started falling in slow motion, and I could really examine every single droplet that fell and hit his eyelids, his eyelashes, his prominent nose, and his full lips.

Was I doing it? It felt like watching a movie.

He curiously looked around at the rain and caught a few droplets in the palm of his hand. Then, for the first time since I’d known him, he fully smiled.

“Neat,” he commented.

I felt the energy slowly starting to drain me, and I took a breath and closed my eyes.

“It will become less draining the better you get at it,” Demetrius said as if reading my mind. I could hear the rain return to its previous fast pace.

“Why did you help me?” I asked, opening my eyes after a while.

“Why don’t Olympic athletes compete against regular people? It’s no fun to win when the competition doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing,” he replied.

“Why did you really help me?” I asked, reading through the act he was putting on. I wasn’t his competition, we played for the same team. It was curious that Demetrius would rather have me think that he was selfish, than believe that he did something out of the goodness of his heart.

“Let’s just say I owe someone a favor,” he replied.

Was it Vincent? It certainly couldn’t be Maratoni, he’d rather choke on 20 blood juices than teach me how to use my gift.

‘Thank you,” I said.

“You don’t need to thank me, the gift was always there. You just haven’t mastered drowning out the outside noise,” he said.

“I wouldn’t have done it without you,” I replied, truly grateful. I felt like I had finally taken a step in the right direction. For once, I felt in control.

“Yeah, you would have. Eventually. Once again, you give yourself far too little credit,” he said, then turned around and walked away, leaving me in the downpour.

I ran back to my room, excited to try it again, and anxious that without Demetrius near me, it would no longer work.

I stood on my bed, like a maniac, and looked at the cactus on my desk. I took a deep breath and I remembered Demetrius’ words. It comes from the abdomen and floats all the way up to the sternum. I focused on the energy inside, and I could actually feel it. I laughed in unbelievable joy.

“Okay, focus Dani,” I told myself. I felt the energy stirring and making its way into my chest, the sparks filling me with a euphoric feeling, then I released it, making the cactus effortlessly float in the air.

He did it. He taught me how to use my gift. I couldn’t believe it. All this time, I just had to focus on what was going on at the bottom of my stomach instead of trying to use my mind. I continued to practice, and with each successful attempt—the cactus, my backpack, then the bed itself—I wanted to find Demetrius and hug him and thank him for essentially saving my life. I was also feeling more exhausted by the minute and decided to take a break and continue later on. Maybe I’d be able to show the government officials that I’d at least made some sort of progress.

My mind raced with a hundred thoughts. What else was I capable of doing, and why hadn’t Vinicius just taught me all this from the start? I sat down on the bed, suddenly consumed by that one question. If only I could talk to Vinicius and understand his reasoning.

Demetrius didn’t meet us in the cafeteria for dinner, and I was disappointed, having suddenly developed a deep liking towards the stone-faced vampire. I felt a sense of gratitude for the way he helped me out of my sorry predicament. He clearly went against the wishes of his own mentor in order to do it. Maybe he didn’t dislike me as much as I thought he did. Then again, maybe he only did it because like he said, he owed someone, probably Vincent, a favor.

I hung out with Maurizia and Antoine in the cafeteria. Luciana, like Demetrius, was missing in action. Suddenly a thought popped into my head.

“Have you guys ever heard of something called ‘rebirth’?” I asked. They briefly glanced at each other in confusion, then shook their heads no.

“Why?” Antoine inquired.

“I was just wondering. I don’t know if you heard about the incident that took place here recently, but that word was written on the wall behind his body. I was hoping maybe you’ve heard of it before.”

“No, sorry,” Maurizia replied.

“Don’t go asking questions you don’t want the answers to,” a voice from behind me chimed in. It was Luciana.

“Do you know what it means?” I asked, excited that I might finally get to an answer.

“Someone scribbled the phrase behind a decapitated body. That tells me all I need to know. Like humans love to say, ‘curiosity killed the cat’.” I scrunched up my brow at her choice of words while Antoine tried to unsuccessfully stifle a chuckle. “Where’s Demetrius?” She suddenly inquired. Her preoccupation with him was starting to get on my nerves, and I couldn’t pinpoint why.

“Probably shooting some hoops,” Antoine replied.

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” Luciana said, suddenly looking in my direction. I held her gaze. “The Russian accent. The muscles. That sexy 5’oclock shadow. And those smoldering mysterious eyes… the eyes of a vampire who can make you scream in horrendous pain within seconds. It’s kind of…exciting, isn’t it?” Her description was making me sick, and it seemed that Maurizia was having the same reaction as she scrunched up her nose. Antoine looked like he didn’t know where to look or what to say. I stayed silent. “Maybe you can find out for me if he has a girlfriend. He seems to like you the most,” she told me. Is that what it seemed? From where I stood, I felt like Demetrius simply accepted my existence.

“I’ll be sure to ask him,” I replied, knowing that the thought of Luciana and Demetrius made me physically ill. “In fact, I’ll go bring him his blood juice right now.”

I left the cafeteria and made my way to the other side of the school. But Demetrius wasn’t on the basketball court or in his room. I roamed around, trying to find him, until I spotted his tall frame sitting on the back stairs.

“The others are killing me,” I said, sitting down next to him. “Luciana has the hots for you. She’s sent me to ask if you have a girlfriend.” He snickered. It was difficult to read his face and guess what he was thinking.

“I told you I’m a lone wolf.”

“That’s by choice, I’m presuming?” I asked, curious.

“There isn’t really a line of people dying to be friends with someone like me, Dani,” he said. It was the first time he’d ever said my name, and I felt bizarrely excited by it.

“I don’t see how that’s possible. I mean, you’re not happy-go-lucky mister nice guy, but there are many pleasant qualities about you nonetheless,” I said jokingly. He looked at me intently for a moment. Then he went back to staring ahead.

“Is this where you found his body?” He asked, looking at the spot where I last saw Eric Van Sant. I nodded.

“I just wish I could figure out what was written on that damn wall,” I confessed.

“What, the Romanian phrase?” He asked.

“Yes,” I said, turning to look at him.

“It said ‘There is no rebirth’, right?”

“Right,” I replied. Vincent or Maratoni must have filled him in, I assumed.

“So, what is it that you’re trying to figure out?” He asked, confused by my logic.

“Er, what in the world does that mean?” I replied.

“Rebirth?”

“Yes, I’ve come across the phrase a few times now, and nobody seems to know what it means,” I admitted, still annoyed that Vincent decided not to fill me in on what he knew about it. Thankfully, my next-door neighbor had no issues with telling the truth.

“Rebirth is just a wild theory, but one that has many vampires spooked,” Demetrius said without any hesitation. His tone was matter-of-fact. His level of honesty was somewhat astonishing. I was finally getting actual answers to my questions without having to prod, beg, and plead. I didn’t need to fish for answers, he just simply levelled with me. It was a nice change of pace from all the secrecy and guessing games I was constantly having to figure out. He went on, “There have been rumors that someone out there has found a cure.”

“A cure?” I asked, growing more and more curious. Demetrius nodded.

“A way to reverse the vampire transformation and revert back to human form.” I was stunned. So that’s what it was all about. Things were starting to make sense now. But…it was impossible.

“Do you believe it?” I asked. He shook his head.

“No, it’s just a pipe dream,” he answered simply.

“How can you be so sure?” If Vinicius had made note of it in his letter, surely it was more than just a wild theory.

“The last two people who could have potentially given us any answers regarding the theory of rebirth are already dead. If there ever was a cure, which is highly unlikely, it’s long gone now,” he replied, looking at me.

“Vinicius and Van Sant,” I said, and he nodded.

“And with them died the pipe dream,” he mused.

“Don’t you find it curious that the only two vampires who might have the answers have been killed?” I asked, looking to check for his reaction. There was none, meaning he was already aware that Vinicius didn’t kill himself, just like Maratoni and Vincent. I felt myself growing hot with anger.

“It’s a dangerous idea to speculate about, even for someone as powerful as Vinicius,” he stated.

“Why?” It was just an idea. I couldn’t accept the possibility Vinicius might have died for something so, well, stupid. Apparently, Demetrius didn’t agree.

“A lot of vampires in power secretly hold humans in lesser regard, even in our day and age. The idea that someone could potentially take away their immortality, their power, their strength, and revert them back into something they consider to be lesser than them—well, it’s unconceivable to many, and reason enough to kill.”

I couldn’t believe it, so I just stared at him in shock for a long time.

“Someone had told me that the message on the wall was meant for me,” I finally confided. Demetrius thought about it for a while.

“Could be. You’re a direct tie to both of them.” Great, so I had a target on my back. “Then again, if they wanted you dead, it would have happened already. It was most likely just a warning not to go digging deeper, like you’re doing right now,” he said, almost as if he were chastising me.

“What would you do if you were…you know, reborn?” I asked, intrigued and horrified by the theory at the same time. Demetrius didn’t have to think about his answer too hard.

“I’d eat one of those typical American breakfasts. Eggs, chocolate chip pancakes with syrup, bananas, and butter on them. And bacon, I’d eat a lot of bacon,” he replied seriously. I raised my eyebrows.

“Food? That’s where your mind went to?” I asked. He seemed confused.

“I would be a simple man with simple tastes,” he replied, and I chuckled. His eyes had lost their red hue. They were a pleasant deep amber that night, like a dark beer.

“What would you do?” He asked. I thought about it for a while. The idea absolutely frightened me to my core. There was nothing about being human that was appealing. They seemed so fragile and delicate. Why anyone would choose to revert back was beyond me. Give up immortal life, lighting fast speed, and incredible strength all for the price of having a beating heart that would one day give out? No thanks.

“There’s really nothing that I’d enjoy about being human,” I replied honestly. That seemed to throw him. His brow frowned in thought.

“Nothing?” He questioned. I shook my head.

“I guess if you were having breakfast, I could have some coffee. Humans seem particularly fond of that beverage from what I’ve seen,” I threw in to placate him. He snickered. I was growing dangerously fond of that too.

That night, for the first time in a long time, I went to sleep without the cloud of stress and anxiety hanging over me. I had finally gotten a grasp on how to utilize my gift and received an answer to a very pressing question—all thanks to the serious-faced Demetrius. I still couldn’t read him, or figure out his motives, but one thing was certain, I was eternally thankful to him.

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,” I heard coming from the room next door. I turned my head and brought my hand to the wall, then gently knocked seven times in return. Maybe it was his favorite number. After a short while, he knocked back. A light succession of seven taps.

Pleasantly exhausted, I went right to sleep.