Moonwick - 2. A New Beginning

The room was lit by the flickering glow of several candles placed around it and the walls were stone darkened by years of water stains where the tapestries left them exposed in spots, but none of it looked familiar to Michael Quinn. Not even the soft looking bed sitting on the raised platform with its silky black sheets and dark walnut corner posts brought back any memories to his addled mind, nor did the ornate rug covering the floor with its dark red, gold, and green hues cause any memories to surface of how he’d gotten here.

He had awakened to find himself in this strange room alone, but without the usual hangover he experienced after a night of indulging in liquor. Nothing seemed familiar to him, and it made him wonder exactly what kind of night he’d had that ended with him in this medieval looking place. Everything looked old as dirt even though it was in immaculate shape, and the tapestries hanging on the walls were beautiful even if their subject matter was a little over the top for his tastes, having never been interested in dragons, castles or battle scenes himself.

Even the image in the large, oval mirror he was standing in front of didn’t spark any recognition inside Michael despite him knowing that he was viewing his own reflection. It didn’t look too much like him as he remembered himself, but the face was definitely his. There was no denying that since the scar he’d received for whacking his brother upside the head with a whiffle ball bat when they were kids was still present just to the side of his right eye, and the thin line left behind from a razor he’d encountered in a fight his first night working the corner of Dalton and Peridot was still visible on the left side of his neck just below his earlobe.

The rest of his appearance was a mystery to him, though, as was this feeling of warmth and completeness that filled him. He didn’t feel nervous about being in this place despite not knowing where he was or who else was present, and he didn’t feel threatened in any way by the loss of certain sections to his memory. It was like going to bed in one place and waking up in a totally different setting, which he’d done a few times when deep into the bottle.

Michael didn’t know where he was or how he had gotten here, and for some reason … it didn’t really matter to him how it had come about. The last thing he remembered was having a glass of bourbon while discussing the possibility of an afterlife with this older stranger he’d met at the jazz bar he went to after working his corner. The place had been dimly lit like most jazz bars were, and he hadn’t gotten a good look at the man beyond him being in his early to mid-twenties compared to his own seventeen years. That wasn’t unusual, though, since most of the patrons of the bar were in their twenties, thirties, and even some in their forties.

Jazz just wasn’t popular with Michael’s age group, and he’d kept his secret passion to himself after Robbie and Andre had ridden his ass about it when they had spotted the old record player and albums in his apartment. There was no accounting for taste, and they had come to a mutual agreement that his two friends wouldn’t make fun of his musical preferences and he wouldn’t break their noses or blacken their eyes.

“Michael,” a quiet, raspy voice intoned from behind him. “You’re awake.”

Michael shifted his attention from his own reflection to meet a pair of dark green eyes that were peering just over his shoulder, and a shiver moved through him when his gaze lowered to the full, inviting lips below those entrancing eyes. He never imagined how much joy a simple kiss could bring him, but he’d never imagined anything like this place before either so … It’s Copperfield material.

How could he receive this immensely pleasurable feeling from the deep, burning desire of another man? How could such a thing humble an aggressive womanizer such as himself? It wasn’t like he’d ever thought of another male in that fashion, and he’d even beaten the crap out of a few fruits who had made passes at him during his work on the streets so why did this man standing behind him cause such feelings to rise inside his heart?

“You are so beautiful, my child.”

The words came from those enticing lips set into handsome, rugged features that exuded class, sophistication, and mysterious allure while the emerald eyes and soot black hair created a picture of a monster in an angel’s disguise. The man stepped back to take a look at his handiwork and a small smile tilted his lips upward in approval. “Very beautiful, indeed. You are my masterpiece.”

Michael shifted his gaze back to the mirror in front of him and stared at his reflection, finally seeing what he had missed the whole time he’d been standing there studying himself. It was like a veil had been lifted from his inner eye, and he was allowed to view what others would see once he was back in his own environment around the people who knew him the best. Oh my God … it can’t be … there’s no way fantasy can collide with reality … is there?

Looking at this thing he now was for the very first time made him shiver with delight for a reason he did not know. The eyes gazing back at him were a clear blue, and the black pupils standing out in sharp contrast to the color gave them a crystallized appearance like sugar coated candy. His full lips parted in a smile to reveal even, white teeth that looked much better than his ever had during his seven years of being a homeless street rat, and the smile widened as he thought of all the action he could get with his newly polished looks.

The only disturbing thing in that lovely, disarming smile were the slightly elongated incisors that were more pointed and wicked looking than he remembered them being before his encounter with this man in the jazz bar. It was nothing he felt like worrying about, though, since the rest of him appeared to be intact despite this anomaly he’d spotted, even the tattoo of a snake wrapped around a dagger that graced his left forearm was still the way he remembered it. One imperfection in what he perceived as being flawless was to be expected … even ignored when placed against the rest of his appearance.

His blond hair fell down past his shoulders in a waterfall of gold, silver, and stark white that shone lustrous and full of life in the flickering candle light, and it looked healthier than it ever had before. The shifting highlights framed his high cheekbones and rounded chin like a halo turned horizontal, and contrasted with the icy blue of his eyes and the cinnamon hue of his bare shoulders and torso where it lay loosely over the skin.

It was longer than he remembered it being, but that thought was squashed when his mind interjected that hair didn’t grow several inches overnight. It had taken him two years to get it down to his shoulders so having it touching his shoulder blades now was a little off-putting and caused quite a few misfires in his neurons. It’s not flat and dull either … not the dirty blond it was last night.

Michael ran his fingers through the silky strands, and inhaled the delightful scent of spring flowers in bloom that it gave off instead of the smell of harsh soap, car exhaust, and cigarette smoke like it usually did. At this moment he only knew the sheer happiness that was inside him, tingling throughout his entire body. The sensation was that of a light electrical shock buzzing through every fiber of his being, and it was something he’d never felt before. It was almost too intense.

Something that sounded like an amazed sigh escaped the lips of the man standing behind him, and a smile made the features even more handsome in the candlelight. “You are now a part of me, Michael. An ever living, eternally beautiful child of my creation. Take into yourself everything this world has to offer for it all belongs to you now.”

The man moved closer until Michael could feel his presence almost against his bare back and a hand rested on his shoulder that felt neither warm nor cold, only a pressure. “You have much to learn about this life I am giving you. There are rules to it just as with the cattle you were once a part of, and you will obey those laws with more accuracy than you did those of the lower breed.”

Rules? Laws? What the hell is he going on about? I’m a criminal … breaking the law is an occupational hazard. Michael let the words sink into his muddled mind a moment before he turned to face the man. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask, and his thoughts seemed to become paralyzed the longer he stared into those mysterious, emerald eyes. It was like looking into a vacuum of both nightmare and daydream with no separation between the two. “Are you…”

The man chuckled as a parent whose child has spoken his first word might. “I am as dark an angel as can be found, my little darling one. I am everything you want me to be, and yet nothing you want to encounter in a dark place alone.”

He swept his arms out to encompass the room around them and stared at Michael through lowered lids. “I am your master, your friend, and your mentor … if you accept the laws and do as you are told.”

Michael thought about this for several long moments, and his mind rejected the word ‘master’ almost immediately. Authority had never been something he respected, and he’d spent most of his life bucking against any system that presented itself, including those imparted by his long defunct parents. He had an idea of what he had now become, but without assurance of this nonsense as being reality … he couldn’t very well bow down to anybody.

It just wasn’t in his nature to follow directions or adhere to any laws that he felt weren’t right. It’s worth a shot, though. He has done a lot for me so far. I can wait it out and see what his plans for me are. “What do I call you? You do have a name, right?”

The man’s lips tilted into what appeared to be a smirk, and his eyelids opened a little more, the penetrating gaze boring into Michael. “You may call me Master Loren.”

When Michael opened his mouth to protest this highhanded order, Loren held a hand up and cocked his head to the side charmingly. “You must understand a few things first before you start rebelling, Michael. The world as you know it is gone … completely gone.”

Gone? What the hell does that mean? How can …

“Easy,” Loren interjected with a smirk when Michael jerked at having his thoughts answered in such a way. “You have been here with me for fifteen years going through your change. All the people you knew before are grown to adulthood, some with families of their own and others with nothing but grave dirt covering them. They have moved on while you were in limbo.”

Fifteen years … oh fucking hell … If what Loren was saying was in fact the truth, it would make Robbie, Andre, and his other acquaintances in their thirties while he was still frozen in time at seventeen. Just the thought of this made him wonder if anybody had missed him over the ensuing years he’d been here with this man, and if anybody had bothered to search for him when he disappeared. Surely his friends would’ve wondered where he went and so would his boss when he didn’t show up to work his corner the next night.

A wave of cold washed through Michael as the enormity of this situation finally settled into his frozen mind, and he understood what he truly was now. The teeth, the hair, his eyes … everything boiled down to one answer, and it was an answer that he hadn’t considered beyond a fleeting thought of amusement upon first glance at his newly restored appearance. A vampire … a blood sucking leech that feeds off of humanity.

Loren’s smirk softened into a complacent smile, and he dipped his soot black head into a nod of acquiesce when Michael stared in wonder at him. “You are no longer a part of the cattle class, Michael. You are my creation … my servant to do as I bid and to obey my whims.”

Michael licked his suddenly dry lips and started to shake his head in denial, but settled for running his fingers through his luxurious hair once more. “This is just a dream. Vampires don’t exist. You’re just a figment of the bourbon and whatever was dropped into it.”

His face brightened as his mind latched onto that out with sharp claws in an effort to cling to something he knew. “That’s it! I got a hold of some rotten hooch at the bar, and it’s made everything warped and dented!”

A low chuckle came from Loren and he crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head. “This is indeed reality, my child, and not some dream brought on by … rotten hooch, as you called it.”

He smiled wider to reveal his own elongated incisors, pearly white and intimidating against the red of his lips. “You will come to grips with what is expected of you soon enough.”

Turning away from the man, Michael stared into the mirror once more and frowned as a thought hit him. “If I’m a vampire, why can I see my reflection in the glass? Why can I see yours?”

Loren’s eyes widened with humor, and he laughed outright this time. “Myths tend to be over exaggerated, Michael. The shit you have read in books was written by those who have never been in our society. Real elites know better than to trumpet about the truth of our existence or to pass along our closely guarded secrets to those who would use them against us.”

He let his arms drop to his sides and his eyes narrowed. “The lower species tends to be frightened by things that are superior and different than they are. Enlightenment breeds panic and witch hunts among them when something they do not understand is revealed.”

I don’t understand it myself … Michael shifted his gaze from Loren’s reflection and focused on his own once more, the frown fading as he took in the beauty that had been present in his childhood and had been lost to him when he took to the streets so long ago. Depending on the rules and laws, maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. He didn’t know why Loren had chosen him for this ‘experiment’, but he was almost flattered that he had … almost.

He smiled as their conversation in the jazz bar came back to him, and he was reminded of the quote Loren had said that night about the afterlife … words from some dude named Seneca that Michael had never heard of before.

The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of eternity …