dead_junebugs

He turned to Noé. “Now then. Do you want a drink?”

Noé looked up at him in disbelief. An amused smile found its way on Vanitas’ face.

“That’s not the kind of drink I meant,” He chuckled. ”Stay put and I’ll be back with the kettle.”

_____

On a moonless night, Noé descended into an abyss within his dreams. He was falling into a liquid void, downward progress defined by rising bubbles. The fall was timeless, seemingly eternal, but a perceptible change crept into his anonymous surroundings. The liquid became air, and at last his feet settled on firm earth. All around him was a black, empty void. No light penetrated his surroundings.

You have been asleep for far too long, Noé.

Suddenly, a strange man appeared before Noé. He wore a suit but had the head of a goat’s skull. From the bleached bone sprouted flowers, like an offering to a grave. The Ram spoke with a voice that was painfully nostalgic.

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Noé asked, fear crawling in his skin.

Instead of answering, the Ram reached out a gloved hand and covered Noé’s eyes. When the hand was pulled away, Noé could now see the Moon hanging in the sky, over the Ram’s shoulder. It was pure red.

It’s time to wake up, Noé.

Noé awoke in a cold sweat in his oppressively silent hotel room. When he remembered where he was, he realized he had just had a nightmare. And in that dream the strange figure had a voice from his memories… he banished the thought. Feeling somewhat rattled, he threw off the covers and got to his feet. The hotel room was quite dark, but it was a far cry from the pit of pitch he awoke from. Wanting to at least get the sweat off his face, he walked to the basin at the corner, which he knew had a pitcher of water nearby. He poured the water into the basin and splashed it into his face. Looking up, he caught his reflection in the mirror. That was when he saw them looking back at him: red eyes that glowed in the darkness.

***

Noé, once again, was met with a heavy oak door. There was nothing else he could think to do but come back to the alchemist he had left a few days prior. Neither archeology nor any science would be of use to him here. If this alchemist offered panaceas to the townsfolk, he hoped he would have something to offer him too.

He knocked, and this time his wait was anxious. The moments passed painfully, even though this time Vanitas opened the door sooner than before.

“Noé?” The expression of puzzlement made Vanitas look less unearthly than he did the first time. More like the fellow his own age that he was.

“Vanitas.” Noé, ever straightforward and open to a fault, showed all of his anxiety on his face. “I need your help. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who else to go to.”

Vanitas grew slightly more serious. “Come inside, then.”

Noé made his way directly to one of the chairs he had seen before, in the center of the room. He threw his hat onto the table in front of him, next to that gear-studded book, and leaned forward with steepled hands. He was the picture of bundled anxiety.

Vanitas was dressed in his usual robes, but unlike before he struck a casual posture. He rested his hands on his hips and considered the nervous wreck before him.

“All right.” He finally said. “Noé. Tell me what happened.”

Noé recounted the uncomfortable dream, and the sudden change of eye color right after. At the end of the tale Vanitas thoughtfully paced around the room. The hourglass at his wrist glittered.

“Well. That’s quite the dream you’ve had. And you saw the Moon, but it was red?”

“Yes.”

“The Crimson Moon does have a particular meaning. Ordinarily, the tinctura rubea is the hot and dry element of the Sun. It means transformation. And soon after you saw it, your eyes were red too…”

Vanitas turned to look at Noé.

“Are you thirsty right now?”

Noé looked at him in confusion. This question came out of nowhere. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I think you’re a vampire, Noé.” Vanitas appeared thoughtful.

Noé looked at him in disbelief.

“But that doesn’t make sense? It’s broad daylight and I walked by the church…”

“I don’t mean that kind of vampire, Noé.” Vanitas said impatiently. “In my studies, I’ve come across the Crimson Moon. It is said that it can transform people into vampiric beings. You can drink blood and do extraordinary feats. You have eyes that can rewrite the fabric of the world.”

All of this sounded unbelievable. “There’s no way this can be so…” After all, he saw his reflection right after waking from a dream. What if he was just mistaken? Confusing reality with the dream he just had?

“Well there’s one way for us to find out.” Vanitas said. He started to untie his cravat.

“What are you doing?” Noé asked. He was at a loss about how this action was supposed to help.

“Here,” he said, after he finished unbuttoning the top of his shirt. He had pushed it as well as the top part of the robe aside to reveal one shoulder. “Drink my blood.”

“What? How am I supposed to do that?”

“If what you said is true, then chances are you’re a vampire of the Crimson Moon. This test will determine it. I won’t become a vampire or anything, if that’s what you’re worrying about. Vampires of the Crimson Moon can’t create more vampires.” Vanitas was matter-of-fact about all of this.

Noé was still wide-eyed and entirely unconvinced.

Vanitas’s eyes narrowed. “You had red eyes last night Noé. You have them now.”

Noé saw in Vanitas’s face that he was telling the truth. The alchemist fetched a hexagonal mirror from his pocket and offered it to him. Noé immediately got up to look.

There, in the impartial light of day, were those same red eyes.

“Noé.”

He looked up. Vanitas took a step forward to stand in front of him.

“Either you are or you are not. It’s better to make certain, and then think about what to do next once we know.”

Vanitas took the mirror out of Noé’s hand and returned it to his pocket. Noé, at last, conceded to this idea and didn’t bother to move away. But what on earth was he supposed to do next? He felt like a fool standing in front of Vanitas.

Noé’s gaze shifted to Vanitas’s neck. He saw perhaps a hint of a scar making its way up the alchemist’s back along the curve of his shoulder, and the translucent veins under his skin. Standing this close to him, he noticed the faint scent of rosemary emanating from his robes. And then, suddenly, he noticed something else. An enticing fragrance with which he had no familiarity. Under Vanitas’s skin, he heard the call of his blood.

It’s time to wake up, Noé.

Noé gripped the other man’s shoulders, being struck by the urge to drink. Outside Noé’s awareness, Vanitas’ dispassionate eyes flicked across the archeologist’s face and took note of the fact that he now had fangs. It took less than a moment for Noé to sink them into the alchemist’s neck.

In that instant Noé understood that, from then on, he would always yearn for other people’s blood. The unnamed fragrance was contained in that blood, and he became overcome by a terrible thirst he didn’t realize he had. The more he drank, the stronger his relief. It was as if he had a thirst his whole life that would at last be sated.

When he was satisfied, he raised his head. Without realizing it, he had put the alchemist in a tight embrace. He wondered what came over him, having done all that without even realizing it. He loosened his grip and leaned back. He saw the smear of blood on Vanitas’ neck, as proof of what he’d done. And also Vanitas giving him a wry smile.

“Well, we have our answer.”

***

Noé had returned to his chair. He was in a daze trying to juggle the new thoughts that had been forced upon him. It was undeniable now. He was a vampire, if a strange kind at that. And he noticed that he felt energized after what he’d done. What is he supposed to make of that? Would he need to drink blood to survive now?

The alchemist’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“Now that we got this cleared up, I know what to do.” Vanitas had dabbed the pair of puncture wounds with some cotton, and started buttoning up his shirt, and fixing his robe. “I will have to return to those volumes that referenced the Crimson Moon. I should be able to get more details about this species of vampirism and its symptoms.”

He turned to Noé. “Now then. Do you want a drink?”

Noé looked up at him in disbelief. An amused smile found its way on Vanitas’ face.

“That’s not the kind of drink I meant,” He chuckled. ”Stay put and I’ll be back with the kettle.”

When he came back with the kettle, Vanitas had prepared for the two of them not real tea, but a kind of herbal tisane which, on tasting, revealed itself to be mint. Noé found it refreshingly ordinary after drinking human blood. But the alchemist appeared no worse for wear. And in honest truth Noé liked drinking his blood. Vanitas appeared to have picked up on that.

“It’s not good to go against your nature,” said Vanitas. “You’re not what you once were anymore. You’ll have to accept that. But.”

He took a sip before he spoke again.

“You won’t have to do this alone. I myself want to know what happened to you, and what charlatan changed you in this way. This amount of interference makes me uneasy.”

Vanitas picking up the kettle, preparing to return to the kitchen. He paused for a moment.

“You know,” he said with a grin. “I’ve never been a vampire doctor before.”