Undead Memories Part 1

I've toyed with the idea of writing a vampire story, but held back because of current trends. I finally gave in and did it for a final project. I'll post it in 3 parts. Here is the first!


From the dark trees across the street, the house looked just the same as it had the last time Edie had seen it. In her memories, she could see the bright sun filling the sky as she and Victoria played in the grass – now brown and withered. That’s all she had left of the sun these days. Memories.

The blue shutters were still there, along with the matching blue door with the gold mail slot. The red brick that made up the façade was perhaps not as bright as it was from childhood, but that’s what happened with age. Things faded.

This was risky, coming back here after all this time. Nikolai had tried to reason with her. In the end, Edie always did what she wanted. At least to the best of her abilities. It was easy for her, being Warrick’s great creation and all – not that she ever asked for any of it. But how often did catastrophic events ask permission before striking?

Warrick could go to hell for all she cared. This was not about her, or him. This was about Victoria, and seeing her one last time. It was a risk she was willing to take. They had been lingering in this town for weeks, but Edie had saved this visit until the last possible moment.

“Once he finds out you don’t plan on coming back, you know this is the first place he’ll look. And if that boy has anything to do with it, you know what he’ll do.”

Edie didn’t look over her shoulder to meet Nikolai’s reason. “Well, then I have some time,” she said, clearly avoiding addressing the subject of Landon.

She had to keep reminding herself that this was not about Landon. This is about Victoria, she thought.

“And if Warrick comes, and asks me directly, I’ll have no choice but to tell him.”

“You breathe a word before that inevitable point in time, and I’ll rip your head off.”

She didn’t have to see him in order to detect the sudden jerk of his body. There was no doubt that she could, and would, rip off that head of his. Not that she wanted to. He was a loyal officer, and was already risking his life for her.

“I can’t keep lying for you,” he whispered.

Of course he couldn’t, especially when it came to Warrick, but she couldn’t show weakness now. “I thought you were my officer.”

“I’m whatever Warrick tells me to be.”

She finally tore her eyes away from the house. “Would you cut off my head and stake me through the heart if he told you to?” she snapped.

He winced. “He wouldn’t.”

“He would. You know it.”

She turned again, unable to keep away from a dead, forgotten life that was somehow trapped within those bricks.

“If you wanted to leave, why here? It’s been . . .”

“A long time? Yeah, I got it. But I just had to come back, even if it was for the last time. My sister . . .”

Edie would not permit herself to say more. Though Nikolai was no threat to her at the moment, she still did not trust him. Including herself, there were ten members of her clan. Though three of them had dared to leave with her, they were all still Warrick’s followers. They had been travelling for months. Nikolai was required to report back to him. They would have to return to him eventually. But Edie had no intentions of fulfilling that promise. Her biggest ally was herself, and that was it.

“Leave me,” she ordered.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she growled.

That was another thing about being Warrick’s. Though she technically had the authority to tell Nikolai what to do, it was still his duty to watch over and protect her.

He disappeared without a sound. She didn’t have to look back to verify.

Why did she feel so human? The undead didn’t get shaky hands. If her heart hadn’t died nearly fifty years ago, it’d be bursting out of her ribcage. She could still remember what it felt like. Now that she was technically dead, what did her heart look like? Was it still there and just shriveled up inside her chest, or was she hollow inside? Maybe she’d perform an autopsy someday. She would love to see what Warrick’s insides looked like.

She took a deep breath – out of habit, not need – and emerged through the trees. The house was just as dark as the night sky. She moved like a graceful feline to the front door. At any moment she expected a traitor to leap out of the shadows and stop her from having this moment. She expected Ruthie or Joel to cower and expose her to Warrick. They would have to kill her before she would let them steal this from her, too.

Nikolai told her it was easier once the ties to human life were gone. Edie didn’t believe that. Memories didn’t die. Even Warrick still clung to his past. She would always remember being torn from her family. She would always remember the look on her little sister’s face when they took her away. Years later, she finally learned why Warrick did it, why his sights had set on her. It had all been out of a selfish, ironic need – she reminded him of an old life he thought he had lost. That was the part that sent her over the edge. He had defied the rule he had helped enforce and turned her when she was only sixteen. For that, Edie would never forgive him.

For a brief moment she considered knocking. That seemed absurd. Though it had been a long time, this was still where she grew up. Edie knew who was inside. Victoria. And Edie also knew she was alone and ill.

The spare key was still underneath the loose brick below the window. The door opened slowly, welcoming her in. She hadn’t been inside since she was forced to leave. It smelled different – like decomposing food and soiled laundry instead of orange cleaner and cut flowers. There were no lights on except for the hall on the second floor. She wanted to explore and see if the décor still matched the images in her head, but she would not permit herself to do so. The less time she was there, the better. Still, she automatically looked down at the large rug in the entryway. That damn thing was still there. She could hear her mother’s high-pitched voice like she was alive and present. It demanded that she wipe her feet exactly six times before proceeding.

Edie ran her fingertips across the walls as she walked up the stairs. The green and white patterned wallpaper was gone. In its place was a beige paint. It was probably for the best. That fan pattern had been more repellent than chic. With all of the money her parents had, Edie always found it fascinating how stylistically challenged her mother was. But it had always been home.

Victoria still slept in the same room at the end of the hall across from their parents’ bedroom. Her scent grew stronger and stronger. It nearly stopped Edie’s footsteps. It was such a sad smell – the smell of someone who didn’t have long.

Don’t feel, she told herself. Don’t feel. But it didn’t matter what she told herself. The door to Victoria’s bedroom was opened just a crack. She peered inside and slowly pushed the door open, expecting to find someone waiting for her. There was only one person there, though. The room was bland and sterile, like everything personal had been stripped from inside except the bare essentials of a dying woman. Edie could not bring herself to meet Victoria’s sleeping visage. She did not want to see what that twelve-year-old face had turned into. Not yet, anyway. She wanted the old recollections to finish scrolling first. In the corner of the room, next to the window, used to sit a towering dollhouse that Victoria wouldn’t play with. Instead, she would meticulously rearrange the furniture. There used to be a desk next to the dresser that had neat stacks of books and drawings. Victoria used to spend hours drawing and would insist Edie sit perfectly still as she drew her portrait. That was all gone. There was no hint that any of it had ever existed.

Edie’s eyes moved closer to the old woman, but she paused. She locked on a photograph on the tiny nightstand instead. She moved across the room in an instant and picked it up. It was the last photograph the family had taken together. Her parents were standing behind them, not smiling of course. They never smiled in pictures. But that’s not why she held the frame so hard. It was never her parents that had gripped her so tightly to her past. Of course she had loved them, but it wasn’t the same. She focused on Victoria’s small, young frame. Her hair had been so long and golden, contrasting with Edie’s red, wavy hair. Victoria had been clinging to her hand. She couldn’t help but look at her own smiling face. Edie examined the teenager in the photograph that was supposed to be her. She still looked like a replica of her, but they were nothing alike. That young girl would have never been caught dead coating her eyelids with dark paint or wearing a leather jacket.

The picture frame snapped in her hands. Her eyes darted to Victoria. She was looking up at her. Edie’s shriveled heart dropped. Victoria’s cheeks and eyes were wrinkled and sunken in. Her hair was almost completely gone; only a few wispy patches remained. Her hands already looked like skeleton. Edie tried not to be repulsed, but she could not help it. If the undead could be capable of developing nausea, humans plagued by disease and old age would do the trick.

The old woman did not seem frightened. “Edith?”

Edie did not move.

“Is it really you?” She struggled for air for a moment and closed her eyes. “I always knew it would be you I saw when I died.” She opened her eyes. “But you don’t look like an angel.”

“I’m sorry I don’t look more comforting,” Edie finally said.

Tears welled up in Victoria’s withered eyes. “Why did they take you from me? Why did you leave? Why?”

“I’m sorry,” Edie whispered.

“I’ve thought of you every day since. I prayed that you would come back.”

“I’m sorry.” Edie didn’t know what else to say. This was a moment she had envisioned for decades, but it was no use. Visions had not helped prepare her for this. The sight of her only sister and last living relative on her deathbed set her core on fire. She was not sad that Victoria was dying. She did not want to take her hand and comfort her. She did not want to hear her croaky voice. Every instinct wanted Edie to leave this pitiful creature to its slow, sad death. And that was why her black blood boiled.

Something else seemed to take hold of Victoria. “It’s your fault,” she hissed. “It was never the same after you disappeared. I was alone! It’s your fault. Yours!”

She gasped and clutched her throat. Edie wanted to do something to ease her pain, but did not know what to do other than end it forever. It was something she could never do to Victoria.

Victoria’s accusations burned new scars inside of Edie. It was true that Victoria’s life had never been the same. After she was gone, their parents did not know how to handle both the loss of a child and having to raise the other. Edie had watched from afar as her family suffered in grief until her mother finally grew sick and died. Victoria had succumbed to fear and phobias; she hadn’t left the house in over fifteen years. She never married or had children, and had few friends to check up on her. She never had a normal, thriving human life. Warrick had destroyed her entire family without as much as a sympathetic sigh.

“Edith?” Victoria’s voice was weak and strained. “Edie?”

Edie finally set the broken picture down and sat on the edge of the bed. “What is it, Victoria?”

“Don’t leave me again. Please.”

There was a frantic desperation in Victoria’s eyes that Edie could not ignore. “I’ll be right here.”

Victoria reached out her skeletal hand and Edie took it.

It did not take long for Victoria to die. The stars were still out. Edie sat for a long time, staring at what used to be her sister. She saw the little girl who used to look up to her, who Edie took care of because their parents were too busy, who used to wake in the middle of night and slip into bed with her. And now she had to leave her again and let some poor nurse find her body in the morning.

Nikolai had been wrong. Nothing was better now that Victoria was dead. What she felt for Warrick was no longer definable. One way or another, Edie would succeed in sending him to hell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My favorite vampire movie. Oh, Tom Cruise. What happened to you over the years?