Vlavine
by Marinke
(South Africa)
Chapter 1
Vlavine
(My story)
I grew up in the beautiful, untouched country of Moldova. Where exactly is Moldova, you may ask? I get that question all the time...
Moldova, a poor, but exquisite country, wedged between Ukraine and Romania. There was never anything really special about our little country, or so it used to seem to me.
Why am I telling you this?
Because this is my story.
This is the story of how I became one of them. This is the story how I became one of the myths, one of the old folklore stories, one of the creatures from your worst nightmares.
I am Vlavine Zingrich.
My family has lived in a small town, in the middle of Moldova, named Kishinev, since 1483. They came here in search of refuge, after the Black Disease broke out in southern Romania. We were one of the four founding families (the Zingrichs, Volchimers, Balcans and the Kishvarias) and my ancestors believed that they could outrun the disease: the disease that made the blood run dry in your very own veins.
Only now I know the truth...
We were a small town of six hundred and ninety three residents. This meant, of course, that there weren't a lot of kids when I was growing up. I did not mind playing all by myself: I preferred it that way.
Why?
Why would I want the company of a half-fledged mind, when my own imagination was the only companion that I need? Books were the fuel my mind required. The drug it craved to satisfy its needs. Everything started with one book. I read a book about bloodsuckers in Egypt. As time went on I became more and more intrigued by these mythical creatures. Ignorant of my own collision with the curse of the sun.
That one book was the spark, too an everlasting flame, in my eight-year minded brain.
When I got older the fascination grew into an addiction. These creatures were like my own personal brand of drugs ? designed to be the only thing to satisfy my inner addiction.
I spent most of my days researching these mystical creatures and then I?d toss and turn at night, dreaming about them.
My parents were out working all day, so I had their library to use for my studies. Through the years I always kept track of my findings. I used to think of myself as a mad scientist: always making observations.
Friday, 13 August, 1591
I was looking for the different names for these creatures. I found a few and made a list:
Bloodsuckers, Cold ones, Demon of the night, Vampire...
Monday, 16 August, 1591
I also made a list of their qualities:
Strong, impossibly fast, pale white and ice cold, they turn to ash in the sun, sleeps in coffins during the day, need the blood of a human too survive, fangs, talent to compel people.
That's what I found so far. I also know they supposedly originated from Romania. (That?s so close!)
It's a shame I can't meet them. Wish they were real...
In 1899 the obsession with Vampires faded gradually until I never thought of them at all. I was starting my final year of school, in September, I was more matured and my father was looking for a potential husband for me. That's when the Harbingers moved into town.
Mr and Mrs Harbinger had only one child: Crispin. He was the most beautiful human I'd ever seen in my short sixteen years. He was tall, mysterious, nineteen and dangerously handsome.
Every father wanted Crispin for his daughter and every mother wanted him for themselves.
Come to think of it, I never saw Crispin's parents. Later on the story went that they worked as teachers at the University in Phaistos: teaching the evening classes, so they slept during the day.
Over the next three months, Crispin became the centre of my thoughts. It was a habit for me to be obsessed with something. Although the subject changed, an obsession was always present. Sometimes I'd caught myself standing still at the side of the road, staring at him on the other side, walking.
Almost gliding.
Friday, 13 June, 1599
His name is Crispin and he's new in town. He arrived yesterday, but how to describe him?
Tall, intriguing, golden hair curling in his neck, perfect features, the snow white hue of his skin, unmarried (how?s that possible? He is so perfect!), but he is so mysterious!
There?s something so dangerously alluring about him. Sometimes it feels as if I?m drawn to him. Like there is some kind of magical force pulling me closer to him.
Sunday, 15 August, 1599
It's nearly autumn, the leaves are starting to die out and turn yellow. Father wants a wedding.
I've got to talk to Crispin.
I need to get to know him and he has too know me, but when? Next month is the Halloween festival. I'll invite him to come.
Yeah. I'll make as if it's my duty too welcome him? Being the great-great-great-great granddaughter, or something, of the founding family. Yes, that's what I'll do.
Hope it works...
So I did as I said I would. The following day I went too Crispin and with a lot of mumbling and fumbling I finally managed to ask him to the party. I was concentrating really hard on every detail of his perfect features, that I had a hard time trying to find my voice and the right words to use.
He was very friendly. He eagerly wanted to come. So everything was settled. All I had needed after that was the perfect Halloween costume. I so badly wanted to impress him.
Everything started with Crispin.
Crispin was the reason why I am what I am. His residence in Kishinev had compelled my life in the complete opposite direction from what I had planned for myself. Crispin's existence flamed the old fascination with the unreal again, after that one night at the Halloween party.
The world started to shift and form in front of my tiny eyes and my puny, human mind couldn't process what was happening. Crispin opened a whole new world to me. I should be grateful I suppose, but it is hard to think positive when you're condemned.
I am also definitely sure that this wasn't what he had expected. He probably expected me to worship him. To see him as my creator and therefore thought I owed him something, but he was as far from the truth as the North is from the South.
I follow no one. I am no one's slave.
For I am Vlavine. Goddess of Moldova.
Chapter 2
Vlavine
(1599-Beginning)
It was an unnatural, warm winter evening: there was no stir of the chilly wind in the barren, dead trees as a Nightingale was singing her sleepless song. I could not hear anything besides her song and the harmonious pounding of my falling footsteps, as I made my way back to the house of Kishvaria. I decided to tread the long way, through the oak-covered lanes, across the fields of wheat.
My memories kept dancing back to the brightly lit Town Hall, which I left behind me with all its festivities still going on. No matter how hard I tried, my memories were twirling out of my control. Tonight was supposed to be the night that Crispin Harbinger became mine: my husband; my lover, but he barely gave me one glance and stomped right back out of the Town Hall's front doors. I thought my costume would astound him, everyone else was really jealous of my striking vampire outfit, but no! He came in the door, no not even inside the doors? He only stood in the door frame. I made my way through the crowd to him.
He stood as still as a silhouetted statue as the mass of people danced between us. When our eyes met, I could feel mine going all sparkling with wonder and what happened next, I was sure was burned into my mind for all eternity - his eyes went gigantic with disgust. He was a handsome prince charming and I, the monster in the night. I just turned and almost ran away.
Everyone laughed at me, because everyone knew he was my escort for the evening and he just left me forsaken in the middle of the dance floor. I was so in thought, that I got a terrible fright when a magnificent, white owl gracefully, swooped low over the road in front of me.
It only now occurred to me where I was: somewhere I took a wrong turn and I was now finding myself standing in the middle of a crossroads. Looking up, I saw in front of me, at the top of a hill, the Harbinger?s mansion. No lights were on, but the silver moon lit the low floating fog, giving the mansion a ghostly appearance.
Fog! I did not notice the fog up until now. I could only see a few feet in every direction as I slowly turned. The fog came as if out of nowhere and seemed to be alive like the breathing of an enormous sleeping beast: ready to devour anything that dares to awake it from its slumber.
That was when I saw him. I was making my third circuit around the crossroad when I saw him stand about a hundred feet away. I was so mad at him! First he gave me hope, then he crushed it and humiliated me and now he has the nerve to follow me. I wanted to run at him, to yell at him and make him sorry for what he did to me, but that is not lady-like and I am a proper lady. So instead I turned my back on him and stomped away in the opposite direction.
Suddenly I became all too well aware of my surroundings: the fog felt more alive than ever and seemed to be buzzing with energy. The silver moon gave everything an eerie, out-of-focus look.
I moved swiftly, thankful for the boots I am wearing instead of heals, but I could feel him putting chase after me.
Copyright
© 2011 - Coolest-Vampire-Art-Gallery.Com
Privacy
Policy
- Contact
Us
