Sacrum - 14. Chapter 14: There Is No Rebirth

The list of tasks I was supposed to accomplish in a limited amount of time seemed to be growing exponentially every single day and becoming nearly impossible to complete. Practice my gift and present it during the Specials Summit. Figure out who killed Vinicius. Find the building that Melinda Moretti lived in and figure out a way to sneak out of school and go visit her in order to ask questions about a prophecy I had dreamt about—would she even give me the time of day, or would she think I was completely mental? I didn’t have a clue on where to start with the last two tasks, but practicing my gift was something I could do. I remembered Eric Van Sant’s words, “Focus on an object, and then think about what it is you want to happen to that object. Then focus your mind and your energy on that very thing.”

I looked at the small cactus on my desk. I had made it bloom once before while kissing Vincent. Perhaps I could get lucky twice. I focused my eyes on it and strained my thoughts. “Bloom,” I repeated over and over in my mind. Nothing happened. Maybe my gift was faulty…maybe there was something wrong with me and my gift wasn’t able to develop properly. I’d just continue to shoot off bouts of energy during random times when I’d feel angry or happy. “Come on,” I muttered to myself through gritted teeth, “bloom!” But the cactus didn’t even budge. It sat there on the desk, completely unchanged, as if mocking me.

Maybe it was the cactus’ fault. I turned my eyes towards my book bag. “Float,” I thought to myself, trying to focus on it. I stared at it for at least three minutes. Once again, nothing moved.

I was positively doomed. Whether alone or with friends, I couldn’t make anything happen. The Summit loomed over me like a dreaded final exam, which I had no doubt I was going to fail in spectacular fashion.

Eric Van Sant had promised to come see me before then, but who knew if he would even make it. And if he did, there was no guarantee that he’d have enough time to help me learn anything. I had to start facing the grim fact that there was no way I would catch up to all the other Specials in such a short amount of time. Whatever Vinicius’ plan was, he had left me completely unable to utilize my gift the final year of my studies—and thus rendered me a useless State weapon. I could only imagine what Arani Deadnus would decide to do with that.

I opened up my dream notebook, which was starting to look more and more like an unsolvable puzzle. None of the pieces fit together. My dreams, the dark prophecy which spelled out betrayal, death, and doomsday. I sighed and closed it almost right away, then chucked it on the floor for good measure. Dream interpreter my ass, I thought. Who could make sense of any of this nonsense? Why the hell did it have to be me? Why couldn’t I have been a part of a normal family, attending high school with no cares in the world. I envied Laura and Angelo, and the fact that they would get to go home for the holidays. Meanwhile I’d be stuck in this place with nothing to show and Arani Deadnus’ negative energy making my body go all haywire.

I grabbed my books and made my way to English feeling as though I was in a fog. I had forgotten to do my reading and stumbled through answering the questions on the pop quiz that the Professor decided to give us that day. It seemed like there was no ceiling cap on my bad luck.

“What’s with the grumpy face?” Angelo asked, bumping my shoulder as he caught up to me in the hallway in between classes.

“Don’t even ask,” I grumbled.

“I think I can guess,” he replied, referring to my gift.

The rest of the morning passed like a slow daze, and I was disappointed not to catch any glimpse of Vincent. Cell phones were not allowed at Baritone, Vincent had been breaking the law with his, of course, so I had no way of randomly reaching out to him to see where he was at. How did he get away with sneaking out so much? Surely school officials kept a close eye on who was entering and leaving the school. His absences would have most certainly raised an eyebrow, especially with Boeriella Trusting. Another Vincent mystery I probably wouldn’t get an answer to anytime soon.

I made my way to the library and met up with Laura, Angelo and Kyle. All of us had a grotesque amount of homework to do. The professors loved to cram it all in before winter break. But while I was in a gloomy mood, everyone else completed theirs cheerfully, knowing that soon enough they would get to see the faces of their loved ones. I had nobody to visit. Vinicius, my only family, was gone. My only ray of hope was Eric Van Sant. Maybe I’d get to spend some time with him before the Summit.

Once Kyle left, Laura looked at me quizzically.

“Well, any progress?” She inquired when I failed to divulge any information. I shook my head and she looked both sorry and slightly disappointed.

“I did have more crazy dreams though,” I admitted.

“What about?” She asked, while Angelo tuned out. Interpreting dreams was not a task for those with rational minds.

I first told them the story of how I was brought to Baritone after Vinicius’ death, and how I met my human proxy, Melinda Moretti.

“Why would Vinicius choose a human for that task?” Angelo wondered, suddenly tuning in to the conversation.

“Why wouldn’t he? If she was perfectly capable, who cares that she’s human,” Laura replied, offended that Angelo would ask such a question.

“That’s not what I meant. It just seems strange. Out of everybody he could have chosen, all of his contacts, he picked a human that we’ve never even heard of. I’m just surprised, that’s all,” he explained, while Laura’s eyes tried to shame him into shutting up.

“Well, smarty pants, in case you had forgotten Dani is kind of tasked with protecting the balance of the human and vampire world. And Vinicius was a human once upon a time. So it seems only fitting that he would pick a talented woman for the task,” she replied as if she was giving the speech of her life, and Angelo rolled his eyes. I tried not to chuckle.

“Anyway, guys. What I wanted to get to, is that the other night I dreamt about her. But it felt so…lucid. She gave me a sort of…prophecy,” I stated. Now both of them looked at me like I was crazy.

“Okay Dani, as much as I respect humans, even I know they don’t have the power to dream travel and give prophecies,” Laura stated.

“I know, but it seemed…so real.”

“What was the prophecy?” Angelo asked. I wondered if I should tell them the full extent, or just some parts. I decided to be honest. I recited it to them quietly, having already memorized it.

“Wow,” Angelo replied when I finished. Laura sat in stunned silence.

“That’s terrifying,” she suddenly said.

“Laura, it’s obviously just a wild dream,” Angelo scolded her.

“What if it’s not?” she asked, looking between me and Angelo. “What if Vinicius gave her some type of power to relay this information to you, Dani? I mean, it would be the perfect guise, putting it into a human and a woman at that. The State wouldn’t suspect anything. Just like we didn’t.”

I thought about it for a moment. It was…possible.

“What power, though? She gave me a bunch of useless information,” I complained.

“Not entirely,” Laura protested. “You are the one who can interpret dreams. Vincent must be ‘the other’. We know that much. Everything else can be up for interpretation, I suppose.”

“Exactly, that’s pretty much nothing.”

“It’s something, Dani. We have to prepare for the worst case scenario,” she said, quietly.

“Well, if Dani keeps kissing him, maybe he won’t kill us all when the time comes,” Angelo joked, but Laura and I just shook our heads.

“Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,” I chimed in.

“Good strategy,” he replied. “Speaking of the Carandini devil,” he added, suddenly. Vincent was standing at the entrance of the library, a blood juice in his hand.

“I have to go talk to him. I’ll see you guys later,” I said, grabbing my books and making my way over to Vincent. He looked slightly agitated.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I approached him.

“Just a long day. Here,” he said, handing me his blood juice. “Still not feeling any side effects on my end.”

“Well, on one hand that’s good and on the other…a bit concerning,” I replied, following him into the hallway and trying to keep up.

“Indeed,” he replied, shortly. “Just monitor your symptoms for now. Don’t tell the nurse.”

“Where have you been all day?” I asked. He finally stopped and looked at me.

“Let’s not do this again, please.” I felt myself get hot with annoyance.

“Right, sorry I forgot our entire ‘thing’ is based on secrets and lies,” I replied. He usually would have laughed, but there was no sign of humor in his face.

“Why do you have to be so difficult? Can’t you just let things be sometimes.” He was utterly absurd. I shook my head with annoyance.

“Forget it, Vincent,” I said, turning away from him and walking back. But he grabbed my arm. Before I could shake him off me, both of us were stilled by a sudden blood curdling scream coming from the outside and echoing maniacally through the hallways. I looked at Vincent.

“Stay here!” he yelled out, running towards the back door before I could even move. I didn’t listen.

I quickly followed him outside, where a female student continued to scream in absolute terror. It was dark, but all the movement had triggered the school’s back lights to come on, making it look like an outdoor theatre stage.

“What’s wrong?” Vincent asked, running towards the screaming girl. All she could do was point. We followed the direction of her hand, and suddenly I grasped my mouth to silence my own scream. No, it wasn’t possible. The sight was positively medieval. I had to pinch my skin to make sure I wasn’t having a nightmare. But it wasn’t a dream, this was real.

In front of us was Eric Van Sant—or what was left of him. His torso lay on the ground—a long wooden spike protruding from the place where his heart would be. His head lay a few feet away from the rest of his mutilated body, with his blonde hair surrounding it like a golden crown. The vampire connecting me to Vinicius was now gone as well. I was left alone.

There was a message spray painted in red on the school wall behind him. It was written in a different language—Romanian.

“Nu există renaștere.”

I looked at Vincent. “Translate,” I said. He stared at the wall in confusion and shock, as if trying to figure something out. “What does it say, Vincent?” I said through clenched teeth. He struggled to compose his face. More and more students were piling out and starting to scream in sheer terror.

He finally looked at me, his eyes a dark mystery.

“It says, ‘There is no rebirth.’”