Read Online Vampire Manifesto by Rashaad Bell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rashaad Bell
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power and conviction that I never possessed in the real world.
I wish I was as strong as her. I wish I had her singular vision of authoritative dominance. She welded the Blade of Osiris as if it was her own, like the strange translucent metal was just an extension of her arm, then a mere weapon. I tried to gain a better vantage point, to examine what the Blade really looked like, but upon coming closer, it emitted some type of solar flare, a bright, blinding flash of brilliance that overwhelmed and bewildered my senses all at once.
I turned my attention instead towards the Vampires in front of me, if that’s what they truly were. They looked normal enough, nothing very Vampy about them. Nothing except the eyes. The glowing eyes that seemed to drip with death and destruction. If I saw nothing else but them, nothing except the eyes alone, I would be in fear. They reminded me of the Man in Black. The way his eyes looked every time he punched me. His weren’t as venomous of course, nowhere near as defiantly demonized as theirs, but they were of the same brood, belonging to those whose only intent was to do me harm.
“ Reverse.” I said out loud.
The dreamscape followed my orders explicitly. The world around me moving in rewind as I watched it all unfold methodically, searching for something that I didn’t even know existed, yet knowing I would recognize it nonetheless once my eyes fell upon it.
The Vampires disappeared back into the forest. The dead Vampire rose from the ground, my Dreamself rising in the air, to be held in his grasp, pulling the Blade of Osiris out of his chest. I’m hiding it behind me now, the Vampire is falling backwards into the mud, covered in black smoke and crackling blue lighting.
The splintered tree reforms. Lightning from the Vampires chest flies into the sky. I'm chanting now. The Vampire is talking, yet I don’t understand his words because they are in reverse. He’s staring at me, cold and calculating. He’s not moving, not breathing; he’s not doing anything other than casting his menace in my direction
I wonder what is going on in that mind of his? What exactly do the dead dream of? I can’t shake his stare; the venom that’s woven into it so intricately, one could not separate it from the other, not knowing were the one ended and the other began. I could feel his hatred, so strong that it was almost palatable.
That’s when I noticed it. When I realized that he was staring at me! He had long stopped paying attention to my Dreamself, giving her no more thought; yet he could not keep his eyes off of me. The real me! The me that was in control of the dream!
I awoke, jerking myself foreword, choking off a scream. We were pulling into the driveway to my home. I think I scared Abigail; her face was pale white, no doubt do to my sudden night terror thrashing out the blue.
“ I’m okay.” I managed, cutting off any response she could muster. I wasn’t in the mood to explain myself. Not right now. All I wanted was the safety of my own bed. I didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to explain what happened to me at The Dave’s, nor did I wish to speak of dreams one could vaguely extrapolate the meaning of.
Ethan put the car in park. My Ethan. My beautiful Ethan with the emerald treasure chest eyes. How could someone be so beautiful? It was more than that though, something deep rooted that was impossible to explain, yet remained evident nonetheless.
Even as he opened the car and helped me out the back seat, a part of me was glad he wasn’t there with the gunman. He would have tried to do something, tried to save me, tried to prevent...everything. More than likely he would have just ended up getting hurt.
He is only human.
I hugged him in the parking lot, refusing to let go. I felt safe in his arms, like nothing could harm me as long as he was around. I breathed in his scent, smiling inwardly. He really did smell like oranges.
I loved it.
I could hear Abigail and Aiden talking
I wish I was as strong as her. I wish I had her singular vision of authoritative dominance. She welded the Blade of Osiris as if it was her own, like the strange translucent metal was just an extension of her arm, then a mere weapon. I tried to gain a better vantage point, to examine what the Blade really looked like, but upon coming closer, it emitted some type of solar flare, a bright, blinding flash of brilliance that overwhelmed and bewildered my senses all at once.
I turned my attention instead towards the Vampires in front of me, if that’s what they truly were. They looked normal enough, nothing very Vampy about them. Nothing except the eyes. The glowing eyes that seemed to drip with death and destruction. If I saw nothing else but them, nothing except the eyes alone, I would be in fear. They reminded me of the Man in Black. The way his eyes looked every time he punched me. His weren’t as venomous of course, nowhere near as defiantly demonized as theirs, but they were of the same brood, belonging to those whose only intent was to do me harm.
“ Reverse.” I said out loud.
The dreamscape followed my orders explicitly. The world around me moving in rewind as I watched it all unfold methodically, searching for something that I didn’t even know existed, yet knowing I would recognize it nonetheless once my eyes fell upon it.
The Vampires disappeared back into the forest. The dead Vampire rose from the ground, my Dreamself rising in the air, to be held in his grasp, pulling the Blade of Osiris out of his chest. I’m hiding it behind me now, the Vampire is falling backwards into the mud, covered in black smoke and crackling blue lighting.
The splintered tree reforms. Lightning from the Vampires chest flies into the sky. I'm chanting now. The Vampire is talking, yet I don’t understand his words because they are in reverse. He’s staring at me, cold and calculating. He’s not moving, not breathing; he’s not doing anything other than casting his menace in my direction
I wonder what is going on in that mind of his? What exactly do the dead dream of? I can’t shake his stare; the venom that’s woven into it so intricately, one could not separate it from the other, not knowing were the one ended and the other began. I could feel his hatred, so strong that it was almost palatable.
That’s when I noticed it. When I realized that he was staring at me! He had long stopped paying attention to my Dreamself, giving her no more thought; yet he could not keep his eyes off of me. The real me! The me that was in control of the dream!
I awoke, jerking myself foreword, choking off a scream. We were pulling into the driveway to my home. I think I scared Abigail; her face was pale white, no doubt do to my sudden night terror thrashing out the blue.
“ I’m okay.” I managed, cutting off any response she could muster. I wasn’t in the mood to explain myself. Not right now. All I wanted was the safety of my own bed. I didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to explain what happened to me at The Dave’s, nor did I wish to speak of dreams one could vaguely extrapolate the meaning of.
Ethan put the car in park. My Ethan. My beautiful Ethan with the emerald treasure chest eyes. How could someone be so beautiful? It was more than that though, something deep rooted that was impossible to explain, yet remained evident nonetheless.
Even as he opened the car and helped me out the back seat, a part of me was glad he wasn’t there with the gunman. He would have tried to do something, tried to save me, tried to prevent...everything. More than likely he would have just ended up getting hurt.
He is only human.
I hugged him in the parking lot, refusing to let go. I felt safe in his arms, like nothing could harm me as long as he was around. I breathed in his scent, smiling inwardly. He really did smell like oranges.
I loved it.
I could hear Abigail and Aiden talking
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