Bleeding Tears, Crying Blood

Something was prodding my chin. It was soft but firm, constantly poking. Deciding not to ignore it anymore, my eyes snapped open and I sat up sharply. There was a small cry as White was launched from my chest to my knees, becoming tangled in his long ears. I helped him after observing him for a moment, letting my brain sluggishly wake up and grasp what had happened.

“You were poking me.” I stated as I set him down on my legs, ears now spread out on either side of his tiny body.

“You were taking so long to wake up. I thought poking you might get a response.”

I blinked slowly as the memory of my black out returned. I remembered the pain, that sharp horrible pain, and was quite surprised when I realised it had gone. My eyes caught hold of the window and the darkness outside. The pain usually faded by night but only to a gentle throb. It had never vanished all together since it had started.

My eyes snapped back down to White when I felt hands caress my face.

“Do you remember what had happened before hand?” White asked, his mind still touching my face and hair softly.

“I remember the rain and falling and the pain, but nothing else.” I replied, trying to keep my face from blushing with joy at his touch.

White nodded then his head snapped to the door. It was then I could feel Wolfram coming, his strong powerful life making its way to my room high in the house. I frowned a little. I hadn’t been able to sense Wolfram before.

The bedroom door opened quietly and Wolfram smiled as soon as he saw me, the brief worry in his eyes completely gone. White however went from being quite calm to being tense and enraged in a few seconds. The temperature dropped sharply, turning the air into a frosty mist and everything glass crackling with ice, as White moved himself between myself and Wolfram. Wolfram simply ignored him but I was bewildered by White’s reaction. He had never shown any sort of hate towards Wolfram, only respect.

“It’s good to see that you are awake.” Wolfram said warmly as he pulled up a chair beside my bed.

“How long was I out for?”

“Thirty nine hours.” He said calmly. “Your body was quite sick, Alma.”

I frowned. “I feel well.”

He nodded as he fished out a lighter and cigarette. “And you are well.” He inhaled deeply. “You have awakened.”

I kept the surprised joy from showing but my cheeks glowed. “I have?” I never realised awakening was like that. I thought it was completely painless.

Wolfram nodded but his smile now was weak.

White, who had been growing more irritable as he stewed in silence, suddenly broke and let himself speak sharply. “Tell her already!” He snarled, his true voice bursting into existence.

Wolfram scowled but he pressed his lips together firmly and fell silent. White’s thundering growl rolled in the room and his icy rage intensified.

“What does Wolfram need to tell me?” I asked, glancing between the two.

“That he knew. He knew everything, Alma. Everything.” White said savagely, scowling at Wolfram as he breathed out a white cloud of smoke.

Panic budded. “What do you mean?”

“He knows about the dhampir.”

My eyes widened and I couldn’t stop the alarm from spreading over my normally blank face. No one knew anything about them. No one.

“Wolfram?”

He sighed heavily and nodded. “I wouldn’t say I know everything. I don’t know their history. But I know what they are.”

I was quiet now but my heart was hammering with panic and my eyes wouldn’t leave his face. How did Wolfram know something no one else had heard of? Then I realised he had said I had awakened.

“What do you mean by awakened, Wolfram?” I asked hesitantly. “You do mean I am an adult vampire, don’t you?”

“In a sense, you are.” Wolfram replied, leaning back heavily in the chair and chewed in the end of his cigarette, breathing out smoke from his nose. “But you’re not entirely a vampire. You never have been.”

Slowly the panic numbed. I couldn’t feel anything. My unemotional gaze returned, easily masking the urge to cry in panic, rage and sorrow. I knew what I was. I just wanted to confirm it.

“What am I then?”

“You’re a dhampir.”

“I don’t believe you.” I said instantly.

Wolfram scratched his head, frowning firmly. “Thought you wouldn’t.” He paused then watched me steadily. “Extend your fangs.”

“What?”

“Vampires are able to extend their fangs at will. Dhampirs can’t. So, as you were able to extend your fangs while as a child, you shouldn’t be able to now.” He explained calmly. “Extend them”

I hesitated then did as I was told. I extended them. Or at least I tried. I couldn’t feel them growing, pushing themselves out of my gums. My fingers probed and prodded but my teeth remained the same. Just like a human. Wolfram smiled grimly when I stared at him, realisation and wordless admission slamming into my chest.

I tore my gaze from him and fixated on the narrow ancient window. So I was a dhampir. I was what Cian said I was. His kin. And I wasn’t what I believed myself to be. A vampire, just like my parents. Like my whole Clan. I wasn’t like them. I was something completely different and, all of a sudden, I felt lost.

“I don’t feel any different.”

“You wouldn’t notice a change in yourself, Alma, not when you simply awoke.”

White’s aura slackened slightly and the room warmed gradually. His face was turned up at me, watching me carefully.

“How long have you known?” I asked quietly.

“That you were a dhampir? Since you were born.”

“And about the dhampir?”

He hesitated as he thought. “I was ten when I was told about them, I believe.”

White’s interest perked up instantly. “By who?” White demanded.

“My parents.”

“And who are they?”

Wolfram simply smiled through the cloud of smoke then ignored him and turned his attentions to me, his smile waning a little. “I am sorry, Alma. I was told not to tell you anything while you stayed with me.”

“Who ordered that?” I asked stiffly.

“I would say your parents but it was mostly your mother. She was adamant I was not to tell you about the dhampir.” He said.

The urge to cry intensified. My mother. The woman who supposedly gave birth to me. She didn’t. She can’t have. She was a vampire. I had to have a human mother, a witch, to be a dhampir. That woman wasn’t my mother. She never had been.

“What now then?” I asked quietly.

“I will tell you the basics but other than that, I can’t go into much detail. Your parents wanted to be the ones to tell you. They wanted to be there when you awakened. Gabor however has ruined their plans.”

“But why keep it from me? Why lie to me?” I whispered in a strained tone. The tears were becoming harder to hold back.

“I don’t know. Only they can answer those questions.” He studied me for a moment before he sighed and stood. “Rest a little longer, Alma. I’ll tell you tomorrow evening about what I know.”

I didn’t respond, even when he waited for a reply. He sighed again and left the room quietly, leaving the smell of smoke behind him.

White pulled himself back onto my lap and stared up at me, his aura calming to only a faint chill in the room. “I am sorry Alma.” White said softly, his real voice still being heard and his invisible hands stroking my cheek and neck gently.

But for once I could not hear the voice I loved so much or felt the hands I longed to touch me. Betrayal was filling me. Despair. Anguish. It was whirling within me, creating a dark gaping hole. I didn’t know what I was. Who I was. Where I belonged. I knew nothing now. I felt so lost.

But there was one person who knew everything. One person I was kindred with.

Cian.

Suddenly I jumped out of bed, knocking White aside, and ran for the door. Ignoring the panicked shouts of White, I ran out of the house, moving faster than I had ever been able to in my life, and into the dark cool night. Soon I was inside the church with mud sprayed up my legs and clinging to the hem of my nightdress. My hair and dress were wet from the rain that was beginning to fall. I leapt down the steps and dived into the crypt as soon as my eyes caught hold of the old door.

Standing tall in the middle of the room, humming softly as he quietly listened to the world, was Cian. He smiled at me, his old eyes crinkling warmly.

“Good evening Alma. I guess I should congratulate you on your awakening.”

I crumpled then. The tears broke through as I cried out in anguish, not even noticing the blood that was now mixed with my tears. Cian stepped towards me, enveloping me in his arms and stroked my unusually chaotic hair, not paying the slightest attention to the wet red stains growing on his shirt. He whispered words of kindness and comfort but I couldn’t stop crying. I had been betrayed by Wolfram and by my own parents. They had kept this knowledge from me. They had lied to me. The man and woman I worshipped, the two people who had raised me, had lied to me.

I cried for hours then slept from exhaustion, my face bloodied with tears, beside Cian who quietly comforted me. Eventually the early hours of dawn came and took all the energy from our bodies and rendered us unconscious.