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| Part 7 - Heresy Two months later... A small booklet bound in cobalt-blue leather lying on the doormat was the first thing I noticed when I opened the door of our apartment to pick up the daily newspaper, the milk bottle and the bag with the fresh croissants the concierge usually left there for us every morning. Such an exquisite book - could someone have lost it on the landing? Curiously, I opened the thin volume only to discover that apparently it was a first edition of the poem's of Alexander Pushkin with something concealed between the pages which turned out to be a wonderful bright blue anemone. "Yeah, the imaginary blue flower ....," I mused, beginning to read the poem someone had obviously marked on this page: I loved you: love may not have died completely in my soul, but don't let it disturb you, I don't wish you any pain. When I turned the pages a thin letter fell to the floor: To Linn was written on the envelope in a beautiful somehow old-fashioned handwriting. Hurriedly, with trembling hands I tore open the letter and read: My lovely Linn, Surely you did not realize how close to eternity you were on our last night in Venice. Once -- in another life-time I seems to me now -- I made a vow that I would never ever I do this. Once I broke that vow - for love. However, when I laid eyes on you, you who so much resemble someone I had loved but lost twice, I couldn't think of anything else. I so much wanted to bring over, to make you one of us. In the end, however, when I perceived that your heart was almost bursting with panic and fear I didn't dare to accomplish what I had begun so awkwardly. When a soul is trapped in terror and anxiety in that crucial moment -- the very last moment of your life that will ever matter -- it may lead to the creation of a demented soul who will forever be prisoner to these emotions. You would no longer be that precious dazzling jewel I see in you but a dim and distorted version of your former self. And that I would have never had! So I will leave for now. Maybe you'll never see me again. Maybe I will not be able to be separated from you forever. I can't say. Only time will tell. Armand "Armand!" I almost screamed it, positively shaking with terror as well as with rage: "You abominable vile bastard! Why can't you leave us alone and simply go up in smoke like the wicked sorcerer!" But no, this surely was no fairy tale and positively not one with a happy ending. Ever since our time in Venice my life was becoming more and more of an absurd nightmare. I had been on the edge since we had came to Paris where Tyler was scheduled to start his research project at the Sorbonne and I having taken a sabbatical had planned to spend this term with him in the city of light. The city of light, ha, what an irony! I thought sarcastically. There was no light any longer in my life! There was nothing that could give me pleasure any longer, be it the spring sun in the cafés near the Seine, be it a gorgeous meal in one of the superb restaurants or be it Tyler's embrace which had become colder and less passionate since that last fatal night in Venice. Of course, he had not believed me when I had told him about Armand. "A vampire? Linn, you're indulging in fantasies! Yes, it's true, he is ... the most fascinating person I've ever met, I must admit that. I can understand that you were shocked when you saw us together. Well, I was shocked myself that these pleasures were so alluring to me ... but it's over now! I promise!" "But didn't you feel that sting when he kissed you? There was even a thin trace of blood on your face!" "Linn, calm yourself! I know all this was too much -- for both of us. But now we have the chance to make a new start - and what place could be better for it than Paris in spring time!" But I didn't care whether it was Paris or Calcutta, whether there was sunshine or rain, whether someone was near me or not. During the daylight hours and in my sleep Armand was haunting me like a phantom: I saw his face in the water of a fountain and in the clouds in the sky and now and then I almost felt his presence near me and sometimes on the brink of sleep I heard him whisper to me: "Call out for me Linn and I'll be there!" But I would not call for out him. Never ever. As I was well aware I would be doomed then, I would no longer be able to resist him, if I tasted his blood again only one more time... Nor would I want to ponder which implications this fatal attraction might have. Of course, who has not read those wonderfully scary Gothic novels or is familiar with the common Count Dracula folklore laying down the do's and don'ts for vampires: that they sleep in coffins and may not walk under the light of the sun, that they fear crucifixes and garlic and that the only way to kill them is by stabbing them with an iron pole right through their devilish hearts etc. etc.. But who would actually believe all this? True, there was something strange about Armand, something I could not really define, and I was almost sure that he had in fact drunken our blood. But would that actually make him a vampire or was he just a very dangerous freak with abnormal tastes? Well, both alternatives did not sound really promising, nevertheless I was not, under any circumstances, willing to scratch even at the surface of all these bizarre incidents, scared to discover what horrors might be lurking in the dark inscrutable waters below. If I could only lock these demons in a secret well-secured chamber in the farthest back of my mind from where they could never escape! I was so weary of all this! I couldn't bear it any longer! As if my life was slowly, but surely going to pieces and all I could do was observe this process of gradual disintegration like a helpless bystander! How I hated Armand and how I hated looking at that face in the mirror which stared back at my with infinite sadness and increasing madness! "Yes, I hate you Linn! I can't stand looking at you any longer because I see the desire in your eyes!" I howled frantically and in a desperate fury I threw the milk bottle at that large gilded mirror above the mantelpiece making it almost explode into a thousand tiny fragments that shot in all directions, the milk soiling the fireplace and the wallpaper with its intricate pattern of tiny golden lilies. "Linn, what has happened?" The noise I had made sent Tyler at once rushing from the bathroom to the foyer, in a haste he had put on only his pyjama trousers, his hair was wet and there were still tiny droplets of water on his shoulders. How pale he looked in this morning light, but also how unbearably beautiful! I had almost forgotten that because since our arrival in Paris we had been sleeping in separate rooms not able to cross the growing distance between us -- be it with words or with kisses. Crouching on my knees in the middle of the disaster I had created, I looked up to him through a veil of tears, sobbing uncontrollably and holding up the letter and the book. "Look at this!" I cried out desperately. "He knows exactly where we are! He's stalking us again!" "Quiet, quiet, my darling, "he murmured gathering me in his arms. "Everything will be all right again ..." "No! Nothing, nothing will ever be all right again! Here, read his letter! He's only spared me because he was afraid I might become some sort of manic zombie! But he may change his mind any minute!" "Linn, this is not true!" "Oh yes, it is! As it is true that you're starting to hate me. With my over-nervous temper I'm getting more and more a burden for you, a nuisance!" "No, Linn, no! Don't say something like that! This is agonizing!" From his broken voice and the miserable look on his face I could sense that his despair was almost equal to mine. But words had become all meaningless. There was only one way to stop me from crying and to prove that he had spoken the truth ... with a kiss. How I had hungered for these kisses, I felt that the very moment his lips touched mine and instantly my body began to respond, maybe a little too eagerly, getting all pliant and receptive to his caresses. Without becoming aware of it, we had lain down on the bare parquet floor embracing, kissing, touching each other with growing fervour. How I loved to feel his weight on top of me, the delicious demanding hardness I could feel straining against my body and when he started to pull down the straps of my silk negligée I did not offer any resistance. Yes, love me, I thought. This is the only way to forgive you. The only way to make me forget! While pinning me down on the floor with his hands he started to kiss his way down my body, but suddenly I felt a terrible ache in my hand which made my cry out, this time not of lust but of sheer pain. Tyler stopped abruptly: "What is it?" I looked at my hand which was cut by one of those splinters that were covering the floor. Blood was slowly welling forth from the wound. For a long moment we both stared at the crimson red and with pure horror I saw Tyler's sapphire eyes darken and too fast from me to react he pulled out the splinter and quickly licked the blood away. Under normal circumstances I would not have given it much thought, but after all we've been through I was horrified beyond words. "You don't mean this excites you?" I cried aghast. "Tyler, what is happening to you?" Looking at me with a blank expression on his face, he tried to claim my mouth again, but I used this moment of surprise to shove him off me. "Let me go! This gives me the creeps!" And before he could even answer, I fled into my room, locked the door safely behind me and collapsed on my bed. Again my mind was in turmoil, sheer despair threatening to engulf me. Sleep, let me sleep again, just sleep and no dreams to haunt me! I thought while washing down some narcotics hastily. All I want is to be at peace again and be it only for a few hours or I'll loose my mind completely! *** When I finally woke up late in the afternoon Tyler, as I noted with some relief, was apparently gone from the apartment. The first thing to dissipate the paralysing drowsiness from the sleeping pills and to set my mind working again was to fix myself a strong coffee. Looking out from the kitchen window over the black and grey rooftops of our quarter and inhaling the strong aroma of the coffee I was racking my brains again: What should I do now? Was I already so worn out and my mental health already so shaken that I had totally overreacted? Should I blame myself or, on the contrary, was something wrong with Tyler? But no, I had not imagined that strange greedy look in Tyler's eyes when gazing at the tiny drops of blood! What was going on with him? What if ... he was ... still seeing Armand? Sure, he had promised that everything was over. But what if not? This thought had never occurred to me before, but all of a sudden some odd details came back to me to which I had not paid much attention before: how many times had he returned to the apartment not until early in the morning claiming that he had simply forgotten the time over his fascinating studies? And didn't his skin looked paler and paler, somehow anaemic? And what about his inexplicable restlessness and the peculiar fire glowing in his eyes which seemed to consume him from within? But worst of all, I was not sure whether I was really concerned about Tyler's well-being or whether I was simply jealous that Armand obviously preferred Tyler to me. Be it what may, I had to find out whether there was something to my assumptions or not. Moreover, I had to make sure whether Armand actually was in this city or whether this idea was only a product of my over-heated imagination. The night was already coming on when I finally left the house heading for the next metro station to check up the university address Tyler had once given me and where I hoped to find him. But what a shock when I finally found his colleagues in the large anonymous building and they told me -- with a concerned look on their faces -- that Tyler had not shown up for more than a week! This only confirmed my worst fears! But where should I go, where should I look now? I had not the faintest idea, so it was back to our apartment, maybe I could find some clues there? Ah, all this was so agonizing: that I should be spying after him like a cheated frustrated wife, but, after all, I felt cheated and I was so sure by now that he had not been open to me, not at all, and I had to know! I stumbled through the chilly night, thoughts racing incoherently in my head, not minding my steps, not paying any attention to where I went. I felt miserable beyond words, confused, cold despite the few glasses of red wine I had gulped down in a small bistro, just to keep me going, just to soothe the pain that was threatening to tear my heart apart. Ban those images from your mind! Try to forget! But I couldn't. I saw them so clearly before my eyes as if they were standing -- or maybe I should better say -- lying right in front of me, both naked, Armand offering his slender body seductively ... Ah, that accursed Ganymede with an evil smile on his lips! And Tyler making love to him, servicing him so exquisitely that shivers of ecstasy ran over the boy's lithe body and he buried his sharp fingernails in Tyler's masculine shoulders drawing blood, sweet hot red blood ... It was unbearable: their glistening bodies entwined in a wild passionate struggle, their short sighs, their moans of abandon ... I was hardly conscious where I stepped and probably a car would have hit me as I stumbled into the heavy traffic on a large six-lane chaussée, if it hadn't been for someone to stop me, grab me by the shoulders with strong hands and pull me back. I turned round and looked into a face as white as Armand's, lavender eyes shining like a mysterious gem in the darkness, ash blond hair, the casual appearance of a student. A student? "But who are you?" I murmured totally perplexed. "A friend," he answered. "But, you ... you are like Armand! I can see it from your eyes!" "Yes, I am. But maybe I'm the only one to help you, after all." |
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